The Oracle’s Silver-Eyed Vengeance

I was born with a pair of silver eyes that could see the future.

With that ability, I told my father which stocks to buy to save the company.

I told my sister that her boyfriend was a player who was scheming against her.

With my warnings again and again, my father’s company grew bigger and bigger.

My eyes were overdrawn more and more severely, until, after my sister set me up, my father decided my eyes were no longer useful.

They tied me to an altar, gouged out my eyes, and sacrificed me to a demon.

I jerked awake and clamped a hand over my left eye—there was no blood.

The wall clock ticked on, and the calendar had shown: my eighteenth birthday. In my last life, my eyes had been carved out while I lay on this bed. Somehow, I had been reborn.

The door slammed open. My father burst in, his tie crooked, the edge of his neck mottled with livor mortis—marks from the high-ranking demon he had bribed with money for leverage.

“Code.” He grabbed my shoulder. “Give me a stock that’s going to skyrocket. Now.”

I stared at his face. In my last life, these hands had pinned my head down while someone dug out my eyes. I lowered my gaze and acted as if the silver eyes were backfiring in pain. “Zenith Bio. Go all in at the open. It’ll triple before the close.”

Greed flared in my father’s eyes. He shoved me aside and stormed out, shouting for them to max out the leverage. In the crack of the door, Vivian’s shadow had been retreating—my dear sister. At that moment, she must have been calling the broker to short it. I didn’t stop her.

Barefoot, I walked to the window and pushed it open. Cold wind poured in. In the yard next door, a blond boy in a white T-shirt was chopping wood. He looked up and smiled at me. “Hey! I’ll bring you apple pie tonight!”

My silver eyes had flickered on without warning—I saw his axe blade never touch the log, yet the round of wood still exploded into two. I yanked the curtains shut. I needed to survive tonight first.

…

At midnight, a scream rose from downstairs.

I went to the second-floor railing. My father was rolling on the carpet, his skin turning ashen, flesh sloughing off. The contract had backfired.

“Elara!” Vivian clutched the trade confirmation and pointed at me. “Her prophecy failed! The funds got margin-called!”

My father crawled up the stairs like a monster, seized my hair, and dragged me down. “If you can’t make money, then we’ll use your eyeballs to plug its mouth!”

The basement door was kicked open. The stench of blood and sulfur filled my nose. A dark-red array glowed, deep crimson light flowing through it. I was thrown onto the stone altar at its center, and Vivian raised her silver knife beside my face.

The tip came down. I twisted my head away.

“Wait!” My voice shook, hoarse and raw. “Dad, if you gouge out my eyes today to feed the demon, what are you going to feed it tomorrow?”

My father’s hand paused.

“If I stayed alive, I could keep making you money. I could give you the code for any stock that was about to surge; I could tell you the fatal weakness of any rival who was about to go under. I could earn you enough to buy permanent protection so you’d never have to sacrifice again each year. If you killed me today, you’d only have one pair of eyes to spend—and once they’re used up, you’ll still die.”

From deep within the array came the demon’s low breathing, like it was urging them on.

My father stared at me in silence for a long time. Then he let go, yanked me off the altar, and threw me onto the basement steps.

“Go back to your room. Tomorrow morning, you’ll give me the codes for two stocks. One more mistake—” He pointed at the silver knife. “You won’t even get the chance to beg.”

I lay on the ground, my knees throbbing from the impact, but I didn’t dare stop. I crawled out on hands and knees.

I slid down the hallway wall and sat there, clutching my collar and gasping for air. I touched the cut on my cheekbone—pain flared. It wasn’t a dream. I really had survived.

I pushed myself up, went back to my room, locked the door, and drew the curtains. Outside, the neighbor’s light had already gone out. The boy chopping wood was probably asleep.

I crouched in the corner, buried my face in my knees, and cried for a while.

Since they had done that to me in my last life, in this one, they couldn’t blame me for pushing them into the abyss.