#immortal1ty

Characters:

Ethan Wilson-Keene – central figure (the survivor)

Talia Walker ( @vipersunion ) – central figure (the survivor)

Terry Silver ( @opponentcompel / @valleykarate ) – phantom adversary (the orchestrator)

Ezra Nephus ( @immortal1ty ) – phantom adversary (the manipulator)

Allison Argent ( @taughtwrath ) – phantom adversary (the executioner)

Robby Keene – a ghost of fear & grief, serving as a haunting reminder of what Ethan is terrified of losing (the dead)

synopsis: ethan & talia have been missing for weeks, hunted like animals through the endless stretch of woods after barely escaping their captors. tortured, broken, & running on nothing but sheer willpower, they have no choice but to keep moving—because the hunters tracking them are real, their bullets are real, & the next mistake they make could be their last.

but the nightmare isn’t just in the chase. somewhere along the way, a hex was placed on them, tangling their minds together in a cruel, shared hallucination that blurs the line between reality & delusion. exhaustion makes it impossible to fight against, leaving them trapped in a waking dream where familiar ghosts whisper from the trees, their voices dripping with malice.

talia sees ezra—her ex-boyfriend, the warlock who once had her addicted to his blood, who wormed his way into her life & tore it apart from the inside. he moves through the forest like a shadow, taunting her, his presence as suffocating as it was when she was under his spell.

ethan sees allison, her bow raised, her aim perfect. the ghost of a girl who once stood for something righteous now lurks in the dark, her arrows pointed at the people ethan loves. but the worst part isn’t the way she smirks when she looses her shot—it’s who she’s aiming at.

then there’s silver, the voice behind it all. the puppeteer pulling the strings of their delusions, whispering commands like they’re still his to control.

they stumble through the undergrowth, trying to tell themselves none of it is real, but it’s getting harder to believe when the hallucinations keep bleeding into reality.

talia: (hollow, distant) "what if the pack doesn’t find us?"ethan: (gritted teeth) "stop. don’t think about that."talia: (flat) "maybe they’re not even looking."ethan: (sharper than he means to be) "they’re looking."talia: (voice wavering) "if they were looking, they would’ve found us by now."ethan: (firmly) "we’re gonna be fine."talia: (disbelieving) "yeah? you sure? ‘cause last time i checked, it’s been weeks, ethan. weeks."ethan: (shaking, desperate to hold on) "we just have to keep going. they’ll find us soon."talia: (quietly) "what about silver & allison?"ethan: (tensely, icily) "i can fucking handle them both."talia: (pressing) "can you?"ethan: (jaw clenched) "i’ve made it this goddamn far, haven’t i? what about you with ezra?"

a voice cuts through the trees, cold & commanding.

allison: (from nearby) "targets are in range."ezra: (mocking, smug) "sir, permission to fire?"silver: (calm, cruel) "granted, soldiers. fire at will."

talia turns her head, & there they are—ezra, allison, & silver, standing just beyond the trees, watching. waiting. her heart pounds in her chest, panic rising in her throat. she sees them—sees ezra lift his gun, sees allison nock an arrow, sees silver’s cold eyes watching from the shadows.

talia: (whispering, fearful) "ethan..."

a shot rings out.

the impact sends ethan crashing to the forest floor, blood blooming across his chest like a spreading wound of fire. his breathing falters. his fingers twitch. his gaze locks onto talia’s—confused, desperate, like he’s trying to understand what just happened.

then his body stills, blood staining his shirt, his eyes wide open & unseeing.

talia freezes.

talia: (screaming) "no!"

but the hallucinations don’t stop there.

bonus: ethan’s hallucination of robby dying in front of him, killed by allison, a nightmare born from his deepest fears

across the clearing, ethan watches in horror as allison turns, bow drawn, & this time, the arrow isn’t aimed at him—it’s aimed at robby.

his breath catches.

the string releases.

the arrow flies.

robby crumples to the ground.

satisfied with her kill, allison smiles.

ethan stumbles forward, the world twisting, the hallucination wrapping its hands around his throat, & his voice breaks as he barely chokes out the only name that matters.

ethan: (softly, shattered) "...robby?"

you’re sitting on one of the decks in miyagi-do, trying to keep your breathing even like how mr. larusso taught you to. thanks to the re-opening, the dojo buzzes with activity—paze doing kata exercises with aspen, miguel helping henry adjust his stance, calla offering pointers to harper as she tries to paint the fences, dami, cosette, seth & chase chatting with robby near the koi pond. the hum of normalcy should feel comforting, but it doesn’t. it feels thin, like a sheet of paper stretched over something sharp & jagged, ready to tear.

& then there’s him.

ezra.

he’s standing nearby. his posture screams fake humility, his movements calculated, like every step is designed to draw attention without looking like he wants it. you loathe it—hate how easy it is for him to worm his way into the group, hate how talia seems to be softening around him. hate how you can’t seem to stop watching him, every instinct screaming that he doesn’t belong here. not with your friends, not with the dojo, not with anything or anyone you treasure.

he says something to you, his lips move. but you don’t even register his words at first. they’re just background noise, another irritation in a day that’s already too full of them. but then his voice cuts through the haze in your mind—smooth, self-satisfied—& you realize he’s talking directly to you. whatever he said is irrelevant. every word out of his fetid mouth is fucking bullshit, anyway.

you exhale slowly, willing yourself to keep it together. but it’s not just him. it’s not just his fake grin or his cloying charm or the way he stands too close to your triplet sister like he belongs there. it’s everything.

cobra kai is spreading like a virus, infecting everything you’ve worked so hard to protect. you feel it creeping closer, suffocating all of you. no matter how hard you fight, no matter how many times you think you’ve won, it keeps coming back, stronger, meaner, more relentless.

you hear silver’s voice more frequently now, mocking you, whispering in the back of your mind. the hallucinations don’t stop, either. silver’s face, his cold, calculating smile—it shows up when you’re alone, when the room’s too quiet, when the shadows stretch too far. sometimes you almost feel his hands on you again, the crushing grip, the way he grinned as you crumpled to the ground, broken & bleeding.

& yet, here’s ezra, standing in the middle of your dojo, grinning like he’s some kind of savior. you can’t believe no one else sees it. or maybe they do, but they don’t want to believe it. that’s worse, somehow.

every instinct in your body tells you to act, to tear him apart before he can do any real damage. but you can’t. not yet. because if you’re wrong—if he really is just some oblivious dumbass playing at being charming—it could fracture the trust your friends have in you. robby, too, surely. they might not believe you if you tell them that he’s not who he’s pretending to be.

& you can’t afford to break anything else. not now. not with so much at stake.

❛ doesn’t he remind you of someone, ethan? the charm, the way he slithers into their good graces without even trying. it’s silver all over again. they eat it up—every smile, every perfectly placed compliment. you think they’re on your side? no, ethan. they’re his now. just like silver had kreese, tory, kenny… even robby. it’s happening again, & you’re just standing there, watching it unfold. ❜

his words egg you on. you take a step forward, arms dropping to your sides. you’re not even sure what you’re going to say to ezra until you say it, but the words don’t matter. what matters is the feeling crawling under your skin, the sick, twisting anxiety that comes from watching someone like him infect everything. he’s standing where he doesn’t belong. your jaw clenches, your voice cold & low when you finally speak.

you straighten up, the tension in your body growing with each step as you casually approach ezra, your movements deliberate but full of the underlying cocktail of discomfort & anger you’re trying to suppress. the latter of which you’ve been trying to suppress for a very long time, even since before you died. every nerve in your body is screaming at you to say something—anything.

❛ you see it, don’t you? that smirk. he’s not just charming—he’s a snake, pure cobra kai. & you’ll never be rid of me. you thought you escaped, but i’m still here, pulling the strings. he knows your cracks, ethan. he’ll exploit them, take everything—robby, miguel, tory, sam—until there’s nothing left. & when it’s all gone, i’ll still be here. because you’re just like me. ❜

you watch ezra with a quiet, calculating gaze, your voice dripping with irony as you take a step forward, deliberately closing the distance.

❝ you know, i’m curious, ❞ you begin, your tone casual but carrying an edge. ❝ with your… style— ❞ the charm, the manipulation, ❝ you’d think cobra kai would be a perfect fit for you. a dojo where fighting dirty’s practically a requirement. so, why miyagi-do? isn’t it a little... too soft for someone like you? ❞

you lean in slightly, watching for ezra’s reaction, your words layered with the weight of knowledge only someone who’s seen the bigger picture could possess.

❝ or maybe there’s something about this whole 'peace & balance' act you’ve got going on. ❞

❝ the truth is, i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ @immortal1ty replies.

yeah. sure. that's fucking bullshit.

god. gag. what kind of bad villain’s playbook did this piece of shit grow up reading? you expression goes blank. did he want you to laugh at that? the guy tries way too hard.

you stop a few feet from him, giving him just enough space to feel the weight of your gaze. ❝ you know," you begin, voice deliberately calm, ❝ it's interesting, how people who claim they’re ‘lovers, not fighters’ always seem to show up when things are about to get complicated. ❞