She walked through streets drowning in rush-hour chaos. Only a few hours remained until the meeting she herself had arranged, and she still hadn’t replenished her power reserves. True, her level was adequate. She even had a small margin. But it might not be enough. And besides, better safe than sorry.
Afterward, I might be blissfully indifferent, she thought, stepping into a small restaurant at the intersection of two larger streets. There was nothing worse than taking on a job on an empty stomach.
She left the restaurant full and content and headed toward the taxi stand. It didn’t look like she would find a suitable power source this afternoon, so she might as well go home and enjoy a decent cup of coffee in peace. But just as she was choosing a car from the line, she caught a flicker of shadow out of the corner of her eye.
Instinctively, she turned back and followed the disturbance.
The closer she got, the more certain she became that fate had smiled on her after all.
It was waiting beneath a tree, in a spot perfectly shielded from curious eyes. A gray mist hovered there, shapeless and unable to fully materialize. It seemed internally fractured, as if something had destroyed the core of its identity and prevented it from pulling itself together. Alice had never seen anything like it before and couldn’t fully understand what she was dealing with. She also wondered whether it could hear her at all and what it wanted, though she knew answers were unlikely.
The entity swirled, blurred, then pulled itself back together. Sounds emanated from within it, but nothing resembling human speech. Alice sent a small pulse of energy toward it, testing its reaction.
The entity absorbed the power and then returned a stronger impulse.
Alice absorbed that as well.
There was history in it. Not a story she could read, but a taste of one, and she had never been good at puzzles like that.
“What the hell are you?” she whispered, stepping closer.
The mist dissolved, only to reappear a few steps away. Alice watched it tensely, hoping she could absorb it and replenish her reserves.
But how were you supposed to touch something without a body?
Frustration welled up inside her. She felt like screaming, crying, jumping, tearing her hair out. Anything, just to do something. At any moment she might boil over like a living teakettle, and instead of reinforcing her barriers she was chasing something undefined, wasting precious time like an idiot.
On the verge of tears, she sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands.
The gray mass drifted toward her and gently enveloped her.
And then she felt it.
Not a story. History.
Blood. Pain. Suffering. Bitterness. Hatred. Loss.
Everything that was worst.
The sensation burrowed deeper and deeper, images flashing through her mind too fast to grasp. But one truth crystallized immediately.
“War,” she whispered.
The pieces snapped into place.
These weren’t souls.
They were memories.
Residual echoes of death and suffering. Energy trapped in time, imprisoned in a world where it no longer belonged. Clear, potent energy. Absorbable.
Not much, but better than nothing.
She spread her hands and let the horror flow into her, letting it find a new home within her.
As it seeped through her skin and into her core, tears streamed down her cheeks. She cried because it was all she could do. An offering to those who were gone.
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Another hour passed. She could delay no longer.
Running was pointless. She was easy to track in the spiritual plane. No. If he was coming for her, let it be now. At least she would have the satisfaction of fighting back.
She stimulated and unblocked her power, careful not to release it fully, still masking it as best she could. No better plan came to mind.
She arrived at the apartment a few minutes early. The door was opened by a young girl with deep dark circles beneath her eyes.
Fear struck Alice. Sharp and sudden, at the worst possible moment.
God damn it. I should have run.
But it was too late now. Too late for anything but confrontation.
She greeted the girl and stepped inside.
Everything was wrong.
The apartment was saturated with demonic power. Every inch claimed by it. Something this strong made Alice tremble at the lingering aftertaste alone. What kind of carrion possessed such strength?
Lights flickered. Electronics malfunctioned.
Exactly like every stupid horror movie she had ever seen.
All that was missing was a little girl wetting herself.
She entered the living room, moving slowly through the half-darkness, forcing herself to stay calm. Only when she reached an armchair did she notice, out of the corner of her eye, two figures sitting on the couch.
She nearly jumped.
How had she missed them?
She turned sharply and almost lost her balance, barely catching herself on the chair.
“Sorry, I…” she began, then stopped.
Something clicked.
A warning. A bitter aftertaste of realization.
Her inner voice grew louder, more insistent, until understanding hit her like a punch to the gut.
They have no energy.No aura.They’re not alive.
She looked closer.
Their eyes were empty. Glassy. Staring through the world rather than at it. Their bodies sat stiff and lifeless.
Her stomach twisted violently.
She half-closed her eyes and sent a thin stream of energy into them.
Inside were two mop handles.
She didn’t know whether they were wood or metal, only that someone had impaled the bodies straight through.
“Do you like them?” the girl asked from the doorway. “They were always a bit stiff.”
Monstrous laughter filled the room. Hundreds of voices howling without joy.
Alice tasted bile.
“You did this?” she asked, buying herself a few more seconds of life.
“What do you think, bitch?” the demon snarled. “I snapped their necks first, watched their heads flop around. Then I wondered if you would fall for their little nap. Took two mops and shoved them straight up their fat asses. Harder than it sounds, but I got the angle right.”
The girl thrust forward a yellow tag tied to a string. A teabag dangled from it.
“Swallow it,” she said sweetly. “Don’t make me waste time forcing it down your throat.”
Alice stared at the teabag.
If she hadn’t been terrified, she might have laughed.
Her legs shook. Her body trembled. And yet somewhere in her mind, she recognized the absurdity.
This was madness.
She sank into the armchair and covered her face. Flying objects and cheap theatrics didn’t matter anymore. This thing could kill her at any moment.
She took several deep breaths.
“Did you say your prayers?” the girl asked, approaching.
“God and I aren’t on good terms,” Alice replied, lifting her head to meet those inhuman eyes.
The demon smiled and gently stroked her cheek.
“It’s going to hurt.”
Alice smiled back.
She took the cold hand and pressed it against her own face.
“I know,” she whispered. “Fuck. I know.”
This was her chance.
Her only one.
She tightened her grip, unleashed everything she had, and struck.
Not the girl.
Her natural shields.
They shattered instantly.
Arrogant bastard. He hadn’t bothered protecting himself.
She pulled.
Hard.
Power flooded into her. More than she had ever felt.
Then pain exploded.
The demon struck her with his free hand.
Alice slammed into the wall and slid down, stunned.
That hadn’t been part of the plan.
She reinforced her barriers and forced herself upright.
“I’ve got you,” she said softly.
But the demon only smiled.
“I underestimated you,” he said. “But it’s still not enough.”
He was on her in an instant.
A slender hand clamped around her throat, lifted her effortlessly, and hurled her across the room.
Her ribs shattered. One pierced her skin.
She screamed and choked.
“I have a body,” the demon said calmly. “Barriers don’t stop that.”
“Fuck you,” she rasped.
The demon laughed and smashed her head against the wall.
Something cracked.
Then again.
And again.
She tried to grab his hand. Not to steal power. Just instinct.
He tore her arms from their sockets.
Agony consumed everything.
Her leg snapped.
Then the other.
She stopped fighting.
She welcomed unconsciousness.
But it didn’t come.
