Happy birthday to: 

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"ℕ𝕆 matter what I do," Henry groaned through clenched teeth, sweat beading along his forehead as something twisted inside him, "you are going to die."

His voice trembled with agony and conviction. "Yes... evil is a disease," he rasped, like it was poison in his throat. "A pestilent, pustulant infection... burrowing its way into our souls." His eyes briefly glazed over, fighting something—someone—just beneath the surface. His muscles strained as if resisting invisible chains. Veins bulged along his neck. And for a second, the madness flickered behind his gaze.

Everlyn, bound in his grasp, narrowed her eyes with precision and sudden resolve.

Then—crack—she bit down hard on the man's hand. He let out a pained hiss and loosened his hold just enough for her to whip her head backward—thud!—delivering a sharp headbutt that made Henry stumble. She dropped to the floor.

In the chaos, Nick lunged forward, ripping the injection from Henry's shaking grip.

"No!" Henry roared, trying to snatch it back, his voice caught between pain and fury.

"Okay, we're just gonna take a minute," Nick said, breathing heavily, adrenaline spiking. "We'll all just... come up with a new plan, alright?" Henry clutched his temple as though something inside was clawing its way out. His breath became ragged, each inhale laced with panic and rage. "We have to go..." he muttered, almost to himself.

Everlyn turned, confused, glancing from Nick to Henry.

"You don't know what you're doing," Henry warned, voice trembling and guttural now, a low groan rising from within.

Nick, unfazed, snapped, "Really? Because I know exactly what I'm doing."

But Henry's body jerked suddenly, unnaturally, and when he looked up again, his face had changed—his entire demeanour warped into something darker, something cruel.

A deep, accented voice—not Henry's—echoed from his throat.

"Oh, my dear Henry Jekyll..." the man sneered, his yellowed eyes glittering with malice. "If ever I've seen Satan's signature upon a face... it is on that of your new friend."

His gaze turned sharply to Everlyn.

Before anyone could react, Everlyn dashed forward and ripped the injection from Nick's hand, slamming it down on the table in front of the struggling man—Henry... or whatever he'd become. "Okay, hey, hey!" she said, breathless. "Take it! Take it!" The man grabbed Jenny by the arm instead, dragging her with shocking strength toward the exit. "Run, Ms. O'Conner," Henry's true voice bled through, pained and desperate.

Everlyn didn't hesitate. "Don't have to tell me twice."

She snatched Nick by the wrist, and they bolted toward the exit as the heavy security doors began to hiss shut.

Nick dove through just in time.

But Everlyn didn't make it.

The doors slammed with a final clank, sealing her inside.

She slowly turned... her back pressed to the cold steel.

And she was no longer facing Dr. Henry Jekyll.

The man before her stood taller, crueller. His hair damp with sweat, his eyes a blazing, unnatural yellow. A wicked smile curved his lips.

"Not Henry..." she whispered, recognizing the horror standing before her.

Hyde.

He took a step forward, shoulders squared like a predator.

Before he could utter a word, Everlyn moved like a shadow. She lunged at him, slamming his face into the biometric lock pad. The device blinked, scanning his hand with an electronic buzz.

IDENTIFYING... ERROR... ACCESS DENIED

NAME: HYDE, EDWARD

Red light flooded the panel.

Hyde threw his head back with a laugh—a deep, bone-chilling laugh that echoed off the metal walls.

"They won't let me out, Everlyn," he purred. "They never do."

Suddenly, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her face into the lock. The glass cracked beneath the impact. Dazed, she tried to stand, but he threw her like a ragdoll across the room. She hit the floor hard, groaning, vision blurred. But she pushed herself up just in time to see Hyde toss the metal bed aside like it weighed nothing.

He was on her again.

Grabbing her by the arms, he hurled her into the glass display that housed ancient relics. Glass shards scattered around her as she scrambled up, grabbing the nearest thing—an ancient skull.

With a scream, she swung—crack!—striking his head.

Again.

And again.

Until Hyde growled and caught her wrist in a crushing grip.

He slammed her against the unbreakable glass separating them from the archive chamber, the ancient tomes, and relics beyond flickering under dim light. She gasped, struggling, as his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing.

Just as her vision began to blur—

A hand grabbed Hyde by the back of the collar.

With monstrous strength, the figure ripped him away from Everlyn and flung him across the room, sending him crashing into a metal cabinet that collapsed under the force.

Everlyn dropped to her knees, gasping, hand at her throat, eyes wide in disbelief.

She looked up—

And saw Ahmanis standing there, free from his restraints, golden eyes smouldering with fury.

"Touch her again," he warned lowly, "and I will show you what death truly feels like."

Hyde laughed—a low, guttural sound, wild and unhinged—as he staggered to his feet, blood streaking down his temple. His yellowed eyes locked onto Ahmanis, and a wicked grin stretched across his face. "You think you frighten me, desert prince?" he growled. "You're just another ghost."

But Ahmanis said nothing.

His expression was stone, his eyes burning with ancient wrath. With the smallest flick of his wrist—almost casual—Hyde's body jerked violently. A sharp crack echoed through the room as his neck twisted unnaturally.

Hyde dropped lifelessly to the floor, the laughter extinguished.

Silence fell like a curtain.

Ahmanis turned, his gaze softening the moment it fell on Everlyn, who was still kneeling, breath shaky, eyes wide with shock. Slowly, he approached her, each step deliberate and reverent, as though walking toward something sacred. He knelt beside her, gently brushing her dishevelled hair away from her forehead. His fingers lingered there for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her skin, a soft murmur in his native tongue slipping from his lips.

Then, without hesitation, he placed a delicate kiss on her lips—barely a touch, a whisper of affection—and scooped her effortlessly into his arms, carrying her bridle-style with a grace that defied time.

As he walked toward the sealed door, it hissed open before him as if the building itself recognized him, bowing to his will.

Waiting just beyond were Nick, Jenny, and the man—all frozen in place at the sight of Ahmanis carrying Everlyn.

Nick's expression darkened, his fists clenched. "Put her down."

Ahmanis didn't speak. He only narrowed his eyes—and with a single movement of his hand, a gust of unseen force blasted outward. It wasn't violent, but swift and sure, like the desert wind that shapes the dunes. It pushed the three of them effortlessly aside, sending them stumbling as though the air itself obeyed him.

He paused just long enough to speak, his voice cold and commanding, echoing with the weight of a thousand years.

"If you desire your lives... do not take my beloved from me."

With that, he turned and continued walking forward, carrying Everlyn as if nothing else existed. The heavy doors behind them slammed shut, sealing away those who dared challenge him.

Outside, the world had changed.

A sandstorm had risen from nowhere—violent, blinding, and loud. The winds howled, throwing debris and dust into the air. People screamed and fled for shelter, and the earth seemed to tremble beneath its fury.

But not a grain of sand touched Ahmanis or Everlyn.

The storm twisted and bent around them, shielding them in a perfect calm, a bubble of untouched silence amid the chaos.

Everlyn, her heart pounding, finally noticed something that made her blood run cold.

The dagger.

It was in his hand.

The blade shimmered beneath the storm's light, the blade ancient and dangerous. Her breath caught, and panic threatened to rise in her throat.

But before she could move, Ahmanis's grip around her tightened—not painfully, but protective. His voice was low, assuring.

"I will never hurt you," he said. "Nor put your life in danger."

Then, through the haze of dust and wind, Everlyn saw them—Nick and Jenny—shielding their faces, trying to fight through the storm toward them.

Ahmanis turned his head slightly, his expression darkening. He raised his free hand and pointed toward them.

The sandstorm obeyed.

A great surge of wind and dust twisted toward Nick and Jenny like a living beast, rising and crashing down to engulf them. Jenny screamed. Nick tried to pull her back—but the sand was everywhere, roaring, devouring.

"No!" Everlyn cried, wriggling in his arms.

Then, in a surge of desperation, she broke free from his hold and landed on her feet. She stepped in front of him and grabbed his wrist with both hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Please," she said breathlessly. "Don't hurt them. Let's just go... but please, don't kill them."

Ahmanis stared at her.

And for a moment, the storm seemed to pause, hovering mid-roar.

He looked down at where her hands gripped his wrist—small, trembling, but determined. His gaze softened. The wrath in his eyes dimmed like a fire cooled by gentle rain.

With a breath, he lowered his hand.

The sandstorm stilled.

In the distance, Nick and Jenny collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping—but alive. Ahmanis turned back to Everlyn, reaching for her hand. His fingers intertwined with hers, firm and unwavering. "For you," he murmured. "Anything."

And together, they walked away, side by side, as the sand parted before them like waves before a ship, carrying them into the unknown.

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By: SilverMsit707

I hope you all enjoy the story and have an amazing day today. <3