Waiter from Nowhere

The ritual was in full force now. Jay's mind was slipping, his thoughts blurring as the shadows closed in. He could feel the cold emptiness creeping through his veins, chilling him to the core. His limbs felt heavy, as if the very essence of his being was being drained away.

The waiter's voice echoed in the depths of the dungeon, chanting the ancient words that would bind Jay's fate. "The Elixir will be ours," the waiter whispered, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "And you will live forever, Jay. But not as you were. Not as you remember."

Jay's mind screamed in defiance, but his body was too weak. The shadows held him tightly, forcing him to the ground. He couldn't move. He couldn't fight.

No, he thought, the word repeating in his mind like a mantra. I won't let this happen. I won't.

But there was nothing left to hold onto. His power, the light and darkness that had once flowed through him, felt like a distant memory. He was nothing. Nothing but a tool. Nothing but a vessel for the Elixir.

The darkness surrounded him, drowning out everything else, and Jay felt a deep, unbearable emptiness fill him. This is my fate. This is what I was always meant to be.

But even as the shadows closed in, a flicker of resistance sparked within him. No. Not like this.