Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 135: Rage

The spirit’s bloodstained claws flexed mid-air, curled and poised just inches from Borik’s throat. Its grin was wide — too wide — when it suddenly froze.

A flicker.

A small, barely noticeable shimmer of warm amber light against the far wall.

Its head snapped sideways, the blood-red glow of its borrowed eyes narrowing sharply.

The faint shuffle of boots.

The subtle echo of motion from the hall.

Von, still slumped against the stone with a bloodied chest and one hand pressed to his side, felt it too. He turned his head weakly toward the doorway. His breath hitched. There it was — a faint flicker of light dancing against the shadows, growing steadily stronger.

Borik, though barely able to lift his head, saw it too. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus.

The flickering light wasn’t just light — it was fire.

The first shape to step through the threshold was unmistakable.

Liam.

He emerged, holding a torch high in one hand. Its flames danced across the walls and floor, sending moving shadows curling along the edges of the room. His sword remained sheathed at his side—he wasn’t here to strike yet. Jason followed right behind him, Marcus came next, Mariel still slung over his back, her body limp and unconscious.

The spirit, wearing Sophia’s face, flinched. Its lips curled back in a snarl, and its entire frame trembled—not in fear, but with a wild, thrashing fury.

Von didn’t wait. "Only fire hurts it!" he shouted hoarsely, his voice ragged from pain but steady with purpose. "Not steel. Not arrows. Fire! Fire burns it!"

Liam’s eyes landed on Von first — slumped, bleeding, barely standing. Then they found Borik — pale, weakened, eyes wide with pain. And finally...

They landed on her.

On Sophia.

Or what had once been Sophia.

Her hair was wild, her face twisted, her jaw half-hinged in a grotesque way, her red-glowing eyes staring through the group like they were meat on hooks. But it was the blood — the blood on her hands, the red smears across her dress — that made him stop in his tracks.

The spirit twisted midair, hissing so loudly it rattled the room.

"HHHRRRRRRRAAAAAAAHHH!" it screamed, eyes locked on the torch. Its fury pulsed through the air in waves.

And then it hissed—long and low, like a snake in hell—at the group. An unearthly sound that carried hatred, mockery, and a promise of violence.

Jason’s mouth fell slightly open, his body frozen.

It was like the air had gone still — except for the fire licking across Liam’s torch and the faint whimper that escaped Borik’s lips.

"Von?" Liam said, low and urgent.

Von coughed once — thick and wet — then forced himself upright, biting down a groan as he leaned against the wall.

"I said Fire," he grunted, gesturing weakly toward the sword. "Only fire can hurt it..."

The moment Von repeated those words, the spirit snarled.

Its eyes locked onto Liam.

The flicker of flame had its attention now. And it didn’t like what it saw.

It turned fully toward them, the grin wiped clean from its face. The air began to shift again, coiling and twitching, like something gathering its strength.

Then it hissed.

Not like an animal.

Not like anything natural.

It was deep and gutteral, a noise pulled from the blackest pits of the earth — hate in its rawest form — vibrating through the walls and filling the corridor with its chill.

The spirit was angry now.

And the fire... had only just begun to burn.

The torch’s flame flickered wildly as the spirit’s eyes darted from Von to Liam. With a sharp motion of its hand, the air in the room twisted. A rush of cold wind surged from nowhere, coiling through the air like an angry serpent. The flame on Liam’s torch sputtered, gasped for life—and then died in an instant, snuffed out as though crushed by invisible hands.

Darkness returned again. The only light now came from the faint shimmer of the spirit’s corrupted aura, a sickly glow that pulsed around Sophia’s levitating body. Her eyes burned with that same unnatural hue, cold and vacant, yet flickering with mockery. Her mouth curved into a grin, and her voice came low and venomous.

"You thought fire would save you? Poor little worms..." the spirit hissed, drawing a lazy circle in the air with her finger. "I warned you. I warned all of you... I’ll consume each of your souls, one by one."

But Liam wasn’t shaken. The moment the torch went out, his hand had already dropped to the hilt of his sword. He didn’t hesitate. With a flash of steel and grit in his eyes, he unsheathed the blade and uttered a low growl from deep in his chest, "Blazing Sword... Ignite."

The runes carved along the length of the weapon flared to life, glowing red-hot as flames burst out from the metal with a furious roar. The room was bathed in gold and crimson again, casting monstrous shadows against the cracked stone walls. The blaze hummed with a life of its own, furious and hungry. Marcus stood behind him, jaw clenched, holding Mariel’s unconscious body tighter, while Jason instinctively stepped closer to the side wall, squinting at the flickering light.

The spirit recoiled slightly, floating back with a hiss, its smile faltering.

"Still clinging to your toy," it sneered. "Still clinging to hope."

Liam held the flaming sword steady, though his heart twisted at the sight of Sophia’s face twisted in that monstrous expression. It was her face... her body... but the voice... the rage behind those eyes—it wasn’t her. And yet, every time he looked, he saw her.

"You won’t win," he said quietly. "Not with her. Not today."

The spirit let out a screeching laugh and suddenly tilted its head with a mocking expression. "Oh? Then what now, little knight? Will you burn her? Carve open the skin of the one who looks at you like you’re her whole world?"

Her voice dropped to a venomous whisper, a smile crawling over her lips.

"Will you murder your own lover... just to stop me?"

Liam’s grip on the sword tightened.

"Shut your damn mouth," Marcus growled from the back, his voice strained, his eyes darting between the possessed Sophia and the flaming weapon in Liam’s hand.

"Kill me," the spirit mocked again, lowering its voice and lifting its arms in an open challenge. "Go on. Prove your love, Liam. End her pain. Carve me out of her... Or maybe you’re too weak. Maybe you’d rather watch her body kill the rest of your friends one by one."

The firelight shimmered along the contours of Sophia’s body as she floated a few inches above the stone ground. The air around her rippled with unholy energy, and that mocking grin refused to fade. The room held its breath. No one moved. No one blinked.

Then Von, still clutching his side where the spirit had clawed him earlier, straightened slightly. His knees were shaking beneath his weight, but his voice didn’t waver.

"Liam," he said, hoarse and worn, but firm. "You don’t have to kill her."

Liam turned slightly, his eyes wide.

"Fire hurts the spirit," Von continued, breathing heavily, "Not just the host. When I swung the torch and that flicker touched her... it screamed."

Liam nodded slowly.

Von took another deep breath, forcing the words through his pain. "That wasn’t just Sophia screaming. The spirit felt it. It can’t take fire, not truly. And... if we use a moderate amount—not enough to kill, just enough to burn—it might be forced to flee her body."

Liam stared at him. "Are you sure?"

"I’m not," Von admitted. "But it’s all we got."

The room grew quiet again. The fire from Liam’s sword hissed and crackled in the silence, casting long flickering shadows across the floor, across Mariel’s still body, across Jason’s wide eyes and Marcus’s clenched jaw.

The spirit floated still, watching them, its smirk wavering just slightly.

But Liam didn’t speak again.

He just raised the sword a little higher, the flames dancing, reflecting in the hollow, corrupted eyes of the one he loved.

And she—no, it—hissed at them all, the smile gone now, replaced by rising rage.