62. Max.. run
The mansion had quieted, though the air still buzzed with leftover dread.
Maximilian walked down the hallway toward his private suite, every step heavy with exhaustion he refused to acknowledge.
His cousins were sedated.
Kyron was triple-checking the security.
Medics whispered fearfully behind his back.
But Max ignored everyone.
He stepped into the shower.
Hot water slammed into his skin, washing away the dried blood, dust, and the metallic scent of fear.
The water around his feet turned red.
Then pink.
Then clear.
He stared at his reflection in the fogged mirror afterwards—
bandaged head, bruised cheek, cuts down his forearms.
He didn't look like a billionaire CEO.
He looked like a man who had been fighting demons.
Real ones.
He changed into a fresh black shirt and coat, buttoning it with controlled precision.
His jaw was tight.
His eyes colder than steel.
He grabbed his phone.
A dozen missed calls.
Half from the hospital.
Half from Uncle Adrian.
He called him back while walking out.
Adrian answered almost instantly.
"Maximilian—thank God. Are you alright? We heard there was… something… at your mansion. And now the hospital—"
"I'm fine."
Max's voice was flat.
Aunt Liana's voice joined the call, shaky and frightened:
"Max… sweetheart… please tell me Aiden and Chloe are safe—"
"They're shaken, injured. But alive," Max said.
"And staying here under lockdown."
There was a long silence.
Max could hear Liana crying softly in the background.
Adrian finally spoke, voice low:
"This thing… whatever it is… it wants your family."
Max's eyes narrowed.
"And it's going to fail."
He hung up before either of them could respond.
Kyron was already waiting by the front door, hair messy, clothes stained from earlier chaos.
"Sir. The convoy is ready."
Max nodded once, stepping into the bulletproof SUV.
As it drove off the Brooks estate, Kyron glanced at him.
"Sir… do you want sedatives or painkillers? The doctor said your head—"
"No."
"But you're in pain—"
"I don't feel pain right now," Max said simply.
Kyron swallowed. He knew what that meant.
Maximilian Brooks was in battlefield mode.
The SUV screeched to a halt in front of the hospital.
Dozens of patients and staff were outside, some crying, some shaking, some whispering prayers.
The building… looked normal from the outside.
But everyone's faces told the truth.
Fear.
Pure, raw fear.
When Max stepped out, people recoiled—not from him, but from what they remembered.
A nurse rushed forward and bowed her head.
"M–Mr. Brooks… the things we saw… we thought we were losing our minds."
Max didn't waste a second.
"Where is my mother?"
The nurse pointed down the hall.
"Room 407… but sir… please be careful. I–I swear she was floating above her bed less than an hour ago."
Kyron almost tripped.
Max didn't blink.
He walked.
The hall was filled with flickering lights, cracked tiles, overturned equipment.
When they reached Eleanor's room, Doctor Hyes was waiting, pale as death, hands shaking.
"S–sir… we, uh… we restrained her after the incident. For safety."
Max's eyes darkened.
"Unstrap her. No chains. No ropes. No sedatives."
Doctor Hyes stammered.
"But sir—she—she killed five patients just by…"
Max stepped closer.
"I said.
Unstrap.
Her."
The doctor obeyed.
Eleanor lay unconscious on the bed, face peaceful, breathing steady—
as if she hadn't terrorized the entire hospital minutes ago.
Max's throat tightened.
This was his mother.
His gentle, loving mother.
And yet…
Not her at all.
He approached slowly.
Placed his hand on hers.
Warm.
Human.
But the moment his skin touched her—
Her fingers twitched.
Kyron jumped.
Doctor Hyes gasped.
Eleanor's eyelids fluttered once…
twice…
Then her lips parted—
And in the softest, faintest, most horrifying whisper, a voice escaped:
"Max… run."
Not her voice.
Not her tone.
A demon's warning disguised as concern.
Max's jaw locked.
He leaned forward, eyes burning.
"I'm done running."
The lights above them blinked violently.
Kyron grabbed Max's arm.
"Sir—we need to get her out. Now!"
Max nodded once, sharp.
"Transfer her to the convoy.
She comes with me."
He looked down at his unconscious mother.
His voice dropped to a cold whisper.
"If you think you can take her from me…"
He straightened.
"…you picked the wrong son to fight."
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