With a purpose, Alex dove into the depths of the book, reading at a speed faster than that at which the ink could relate to his. Of the love lost. Of souls consumed by stories never finished. Of people turned into characters, their lives rewritten until they faded into
The book wasn't cursed.
It was hungry.
And Elena was still inside.
He took a deep breath and grabbed a pen, doing what no one else had dared to do; he wrote in the book himself.
The character did not fade. The character fought back.
Ink writhed in violence. Pages shook with it. A scream of such sharpness split the air.
And then…silence.
The book clapped tight. The title on its cover now said:
"The Last Page."
Alex gasped, feeling warm arms wrap around him. He turned, his heart hammering - and there she was.
Elena.
Real. Alive. Holding him as though she never left.
Tears rolled down his face, and the book lay still upon the table, its hunger finally satisfied.
For the first time in years, Alex felt whole.
Some stories don't end with a period.
Some end with a heartbeat.