eupharaos

[eupharaos]

Disclaimer

This work of fiction is entirely a product of the author's imagination. All characters, events, and situations are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This book contains themes of violence, revenge, psychological trauma, sexual assault, and supernatural horror. It explores the psychological impact of loss, manipulation, emotional suffering, and the violation of personal boundaries, as well as how these experiences can shape and transform a person. The story may be disturbing and evoke intense emotional responses. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Dedication to my mother for always believing in me. No matter how damn difficult I made it.

Reader Dedication: Let it be known: this is no mere recounting, but a chronicle etched in the marrow of the earth. Mine is a tale weathered by age, spoken in the rustle of dead leaves and the hush of ancient groves. I have journeyed through shadowed epochs of the soul, where sorrow dripped like resin from wounded bark, and silence grew thick as ivy. To call these trials difficult would be to name the mountain a hill, or the abyss a well. There were years when my spirit wandered like a ghost through twilight moors, and nights when I howled not to be heard, but to be unburdened. Therapy came like the old rains—patient, cleansing— yet the grief remained, buried in roots, sacred and wild. Even now, I carry the memory of tears as the stone remembers fire, and the wind remembers names long forgotten by men.

To thosewho find kinship with thE villains— know this: your actions have stirred something far older than your understanding. You did not simply harm me. You have awakenEd an ancient wrath, a vengeancE that does not scream but smolders, waiting in the depths of time. You may feel anger, denial, or the bitter sting of guilt, but know this: your feelings are the trEmbling of the earth before the quake. I have fElt it all, and it no longer touches me. I have shed my pain like old skin, becoming something cold, something that no longer weeps, for I have walked through fire until it has burned all warmth from me. The wound you inflicted upon mE is a scar carved into the fabric of my soul, one that twists and warps the way I see the world. You will never escape the shame of what you’ve done. This is no plea. This is your judgment, spoken from realms whEre gods trEmblE and fatE is unyielding. Every word I have written is steeped in the venom of ages, saturated in the rage of the earth, and I have givEn it form, so it may rise and suffocate you like the smoke of a thousand pyres. The FuriEs hear this, and their hunger is endless. You cannot outrun what you’ve summoned. ThEsE truths will follow you like a shadow of blood, creeping beneath your skin, gnawing at your bonEs, until your very breath becomEs a whisper of regret. May you carry this mark forEvEr— a brand that cannot be erased, a wound that cannot heal, EvEn in the place where gods fear to trEad.

To thoSe who find their way here, looking for stories that huM like a lullaby, that wrap you in a Blanket of gentle connection, wheN loneliness feels like a cloud too heavy to lift— know this: you are loved. By me, by the little wanderer who still roams within you, still believes in the Magic of the moon and stars. You are worth More than the wildest dreAm, more than you’ve ever given yourself credit for. As you read these tales, know that you are never alone. I am here, a flicker in the shadows, and I’ve danced through the same storMs. When you say it hurts and the words flutter away like dAndelion seeds, I feel it too. I’ve whispered those silent sorrows into the night. Let the light find you, and carry you, even through the darK.