Coven House - Stay (停留)
Not all monsters bite. Some just hold you.
Make sure to read - Coven House - Safe (安全的)
“Home is where the blood runs… cold.”
Meilin had no shortage of nightmares to pick from when she was able to find time in her godforsaken life to sleep.
Up until now, they’d been of family lost.
Harsh times in an unforgiving orphanage back in China.
The Triad boss and his street wolves, always just a step behind.
Half-dressed men in massage rooms — predators with soft hands and harder eyes.
Streets that didn’t forgive stumbles.
Food with more legs than ingredients.
And then… America.
She hadn’t expected her nightmares to multiply here.
Not just the sirens and gunshots and too-bright convenience stores at 3AM.
But things like bathrooms — public, sterile, strange.
Doors that didn’t close all the way. Gaps wide enough to see the knees of the person next to you.
The fear that someone could see her. Or worse — reach in.
Why build everything so big, but leave privacy so small?
Back home, even the outhouses had decency.
Here, everything smiled on the outside, but inside — it all felt exposed.
Like this whole country didn’t understand what it meant to hide.
To stay hidden.
To stay safe.
No shortage of nightmare fuel to pick from.
And yet tonight, a new cinema was opening up in the poor girl’s subconscious.
Starring: young Black girls who tear apart drunk men with broken glass bottles in dark alleys on random Tuesdays.
Come get your tickets. Seats.
And what was it that Americans eat at the movies…?
Popcorn. Candy. Soda.
Omalyn — Onyx — had told Meilin to close her eyes and keep them shut.
And from what she’d heard in the last few moments… that was probably for the best.
The sounds of the man dying — yes, dying, no doubt about that — had faded.
And all Meilin could hear was…
Feeding?
Drinking?
It didn’t make sense.
Her mind kept throwing those words at her like darts, hoping one would stick.
But none fit — not with only one sense in play.
Well… make that two.
There were smells.
Not just the alley — though that was always there:
Piss-soaked bricks.
Hot garbage cooking in a dented dumpster.
The ghost of cheap weed and wet dog somewhere down the block.
But layered on top of that… copper.
Thick and sharp. Blood.
Not leaking — flooding.
It filled her nostrils like smoke. Heavy. Inescapable.
Then came the stench of sweat and shit — the human body in its final, failing moments.
He’d pissed himself. Maybe worse.
Something in his bowels had let go.
She knew that smell. Had smelled it once in a morgue, when bodies were kept too long before someone remembered they needed burying.
And beneath that — like an aftershock — something darker. Feral.
Not rot. Not decay.
Consumption.
Whatever Onyx was doing… it wasn’t clean.
It was hunger, without manners.
Slaughter, without distance.
Meilin’s stomach flipped.
Bile crawled up her throat.
But still — she didn’t open her eyes.
Because something deep in her bones whispered:
If you open them, you’re next.
What she did instead was take a few cautious steps back.
And away.
Distance seemed like the smart move.
The farther, the better.
Whatever was happening here — this alley, this night, this not-quite-human girl — Meilin would just exit out of it.
Disappear into the cracks.
Become small like a mouse.
Find a hole to hide in where the men — and now monsters — wouldn’t even bother to look.
Li’l Dragon.
Onyx’s voice.
And something else.
It was like hearing two voices say the same thing at the same time — in perfect cadence —
but one was just slightly off.
Too low.
Too smooth.
Like glass on glass.
Wrong.
Meilin’s eyes snapped open on instinct, and —
Oh God.
She wishes she hadn’t.
Onyx. Mid-transformation.
Predator and paradox.
Eyes still burning.
Breath steady.
Whatever she was before, she isn’t just that anymore.
And Meilin?
She’s watching.
Because she didn’t keep her eyes closed.
She turned — heart already thundering, ready to sprint.
Run fast. Run far. Never look back.
But the moment she completed the turn — she froze.
Her breath hitched.
Her heart, mid-beat, forgot what it was supposed to do.
Onyx was standing there.
Right in front of her.
Eyes wide, Meilin did a double take.
She looked back — the alley, the body, the blood.
Onyx had been there, straddling him just seconds ago.
She turned forward again —
There she was.
Impossible.
Somehow, the Black girl had moved —
from one end of the alley to the other —
in an instant.
No sound.
No blur.
Just there, then here.
They stood locked in place.
One: apex predator.
Lips stained red. Breath calm. Eyes burning with something ancient.
The other: terrified Chinese girl.
Struggling to breathe. Lungs tight. Logic unraveling.
Predator and prey.
Protector and threat.
Friend and something other.
“I won’t stop you,” the thing that used to be Onyx said, stepping aside.
Meilin’s eyes darted toward the alley’s mouth like it was the gates of heaven. Freedom. Safety. Or at least the illusion of it.
“I get it,” Onyx went on. “You’re spooked. After everything you’ve been through, I wouldn’t blame you. There’s probably nothing I could say right now that’d make this better… or make sense.”
Meilin began inching by, slow and steady.
Each step measured like she was passing a sleeping tiger.
One wrong move, one breath too loud, and it would all be over.
Her eyes never left those inhuman orbs — silver, glassy, dangerous.
“But I’m not going to hurt you,” Onyx said, gently now. “I promised you’d be safe. That man… he was going to hurt us. Or worse.”
“So… you eat him?!” Meilin blurted, her voice cracking like something inside her had finally split open.
“I mean… I drank him, if we’re being specific?”
“Not. Helping!” Meilin snapped, her breath coming faster.
“Right, right — but come on. What was I supposed to do?”
“You run!” she shouted, louder this time. “You run!”
Onyx watched her, quiet.
Meilin was right at the edge. One more step and she could bolt.
Every muscle in her body was poised to explode. Every instinct screamed GO.
Then Onyx’s face shifted —
Apologetic.
Then soft.
Human.
Her eyes dimmed.
And her voice… it came quiet.
Almost too small to belong to the creature that had just ripped a man apart.
“But… don’t you get tired of running?”
That stopped her cold.
Meilin turned to flee — legs tensed, arms pumping —
But those words…
They landed like a rock dropped into a deep, still pool.
Echoes.
Tired.
Of running.
Of hiding.
Of not having anywhere — anyone — to stay for.
Suddenly, all the fire in her legs vanished.
The breath in her chest hitched.
Her fists went slack at her sides.
“You’re just gonna keep running your whole life?”
The alley fell silent.
Not just quiet — holding its breath.
Like even the city wanted to hear her answer.
“Please, Li’l Dragon…” Onyx said, softer than soft. “Don’t go. Stay… with me.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t reach.
Just stood there — not as a threat, not as a monster.
But as a girl.
Open. Raw. Waiting.
“Please.”
A whisper. A plea. A thread of a voice wrapped in heartbreak.
Meilin stood frozen.
Seconds stretched, each one a decision in itself.
Inside her: war.
Her bones told her to run.
Her stomach told her to fear.
But her chest — her heart — wanted to believe.
Could she believe?
No one ever asked her to stay.
Not once.
Not without strings. Not without cost.
Not without owning her.
But Onyx didn’t ask for anything.
She just stood there — covered in blood, yes, but asking, not taking.
And that… that made something in Meilin crack.
She turned, slow. Voice trembling.
“I… I am safe with… Onyx?”
And Onyx stepped forward.
Her arms opened, not like a hunter closing in —
But like a shelter being offered.
She pulled Meilin into a hug —
Not tight, not urgent — just… warm.
Steady.
Her chin rested lightly on Meilin’s shoulder.
A hug so full of life…
you could almost forget those same arms had just taken one.
Almost.
“Meilin is safe with Onyx,” she whispered.
“Always.”
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Don’t run, Meilin—sometimes safety sounds like a monster asking you to stay.
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