The inside was pitch-black. No surprise there. With the windows shuttered outside, no streetlight was let in and there were no light sources in here.

“Let’s stay here for a moment, let our eyes get used to the dark,” I sensed him remove his sunglasses. “D’you think you’re able to calm down if you drop the technique?” Colson whispered in a serene voice. He set the bag he’d been carrying down silently.

I didn’t respond for a moment, examining my resolve from the outside and in, like a spectator. There was still some panic there, but the immediate threat of feeling completely overwhelmed was gone.

“I think so,” I whispered back.

“Great. Do it.”

Letting the technique fade, my tumultuous emotions returned but not as strongly as they’d been outside. Taking deep breaths, I did my best to push it down and focus on the task at hand.

Colson’s voice came from right beside me. “How’s your vision coming along?”

“I can see faint outlines, but nothing specific,” I whispered back.

“Alright, we’ll proceed slowly. Do you know how to move silently?”

I did. I’d been taught to step forward hovering one foot slightly above the floor, setting my toes down first, keeping the weight on my back leg and I told him so.

“Textbook, kid,” he clapped my shoulder. “Grab hold of the back of my jacket, and I’ll lead, you follow. My eyes are pretty well adjusted already. If I ask you something, tug once on my jacket for yes and twice for no.”

We moved slowly and stealthily through the dark ground floor, carefully avoiding objects on the ground. My foot would hit something every so often, but because of our caution they’d gently be pushed aside instead of tumbling around making an awful racket.

Heart pounding loudly in my ears I almost missed it when Colson whispered after a couple minutes.

“See that outline over on the right? There’s a bit of light shining through, and I see some stairs. There’s nothing down here, it’s just a giant open space. We’ll try to head up. Try to step in my tracks. We’ll go floor by floor. Silence from now on.”

I tugged once on his jacket in affirmation. This was nerve-wracking.

When we made it to the staircase, Colson gently nudged the door open, careful to avoid any creaking. It slid up with only a miniscule squeak before we could shimmy through. There was a bit of light shining through an unshuttered skylight window on the top floor and we could see the steps as we gradually climbed them.

Arriving on the second floor, the light was enough to show us that access to the floor was open through an empty doorframe. Colson proceeded and we repeated our reconnaissance, my eyes adjusting again slowly. Going further into the facility, Colson peeked into several rooms along the way. When we made it to the end, there was an open space with a bunch of empty sleeping bags strewn on the floor around an old oil lamp of some kind. Squatters, probably.

“Listen,” came the barest whisper from in front of me.

Standing stock still, we could hear something moving around on the floor above us. A small thump every so often, resembling the sound you make when you walk with a cane.

I nearly bolted then and there as a jolt of adrenaline shot through my system, my imagination showering me if images of ghosts, spectres, and monsters in the dark. This was so far out of my comfort zone. The only thing keeping me tethered to the slightest bit of prudence was the vice grip I had on Colson’s jacket.

I felt him turn around and he grabbed me around the shoulders, his hot breath tingling near my ear as he whispered right next to it. It smelled of cigarette smoke, spices and… something else I couldn’t identify.

“If we encounter anything up there, you stay behind me at all times,” his voice was dead serious. “Let me do the talking, if necessary, but most importantly you stay near me. We’ll rinse and repeat, got it?”

Hesitating for a brief instance, I tugged once more on his jacket.

Doubling back, we headed towards the third floor. Repeating our performance, it took us twice as long to climb the stairs this time, Colson testing each step with his weight before committing fully.

The nearer we got to the third floor landing the more certain smells saturated the air. I could smell something rotten, decaying, and the aroma of metal was overpowering. It was so bad that I felt as if I’d accidentally bitten the inside of my cheek.

I can taste it, I realised.

Colson didn’t stop, apparently content to ignore the stench.

Arriving on the landing, we could see that the door was closed. Colson tentatively tried the handle, and it didn’t budge. Locked. He stood for a moment before coming to a decision and pulled a lockpicking set from his inner jacket pocket. Rolling it out he selected a couple of tools, focusing his attention on the door. He fiddled around for a bit and an almost inaudible click sounded his success.

Pocketing his tools, he tried the handle again and it turned, opening the door. The stench became overpowering, and I gagged mutely, almost throwing up on the spot. Pinching my nose and covering my mouth with my free hand, I tried breathing through it, and it improved marginally.

What is that?

Colson pushed forward slowly.

Entering a long hallway, I couldn’t see much except for his giant frame, but I thought I saw some flickering ahead, like from a candlelight. Someone was definitely here. Moving forwards carefully, Colson made sure to check any of the side rooms for signs of activity. Not finding any, he proceeded straight ahead with me right on his heels.

I stepped in something soft and squishy at one point and almost slipped but managed to catch myself by holding onto his jacket and reaching for the hallway wall. Colson tensed at my pull, but I think he realised what was happening and braced himself. I found my footing and gave his jacket a tug.

There was a faint yellow light ahead of us now, in a room to our right. Colson peered through the door carefully and whatever he saw made him turn around and face me with a stern expression. His eyes were hidden in the shadow of the door frame, but I could tell from the way his mouth was settled. “Ethan, enter tranquil mind. Now.”

Doing as he asked, I slipped into meditation faster than I’d ever managed it before.

He looked at me for a couple of seconds, then nodded and proceeded through the doorway, me in tow.

Entering a large square room, a large number of candles were casting an unsteady glow on the scene before us, and I realised what I’d been smelling.

Death.

There were bodies strewn everywhere, in various states of decay. Intestine, blood, and viscera filled the space before us, blood spatter painting the ceiling and walls, and bones from several limbs piled in one corner.

My conscious mind rebelled against the meditation, screaming, and yelling at me; run, escape, flee. I managed to hold on, just barely, and catalogued the scene before me with a strange detachment. There would be a reckoning when I couldn’t hold the technique any longer.

Focusing on the body parts nearest to where I was standing, I noticed they had all had bite marks. Walking further into the room I looked to the bones in the corner and could see that the bones were also scratched, some of them broken cleanly through.

Thump

With a start, I turned toward the noise. While I’d been analysing the scene, Colson had moved to one of the windows where part of a shutter was broken off, a gentle breeze wafting in. He removed some bone from a long piece of what I think was a vein, that was stuck in the window, and I moved to join him.

Similar to what happens in so many horror movies, the wind had played a trick on us. Except this wasn’t a movie, this was very much real.

“It’s not here,” Colson concluded, voice cold. Enraged.

“Colson. What’s going on?” I asked, the pressure on tranquil mind increasing frantically.

“Kid, sorry you had to see this. I didn’t expect it to be this bad. When I saw what was in here I didn’t wanna send you back down by yourself and I need to examine the scene. I only originally expected to find André, maybe one other, not… this.”

“What’s happened here, some kind of cannibalistic serial killer?” my voice was frantic, fearful.

He looked around the room for a moment, before gesturing at something I’d missed. A green footprint, smudged by blood and wear.

“Nothing human did this,” his voice was stone. “It’s an empousa. A humanoid maneater. It’s why all the bodies have bitemarks.”

The pounding increased. “An empousa? A maneater? W-what? Are you kidding me? We have to get out of here!” I felt my grip on the technique slip slightly before I managed to steady it again.

“Ethan. Try to calm yourself. I realise the situation isn’t ideal–”

“IDEAL?!” I screamed, my tenuous grip on tranquil mind breaking entirely. “Colson what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fu–”

My stomach content landed on the floor as I threw up and it kept on coming.

He clapped me on the back.

“Let it all out, kid. Try to steady your breathing as well as you can. Again, sorry for the abrupt introduction. I’d hoped we would find the empousa first and incapacitate it, so I could tell you about it when we had it locked down. Evidence in hand, so to speak. Seems like it’ll be the other way around.”

I didn’t answer, I just tried to dry heave up more stomach acid, as he kept on talking.

“Yeah. Monsters are real. This one’s a nasty bugger. Not very strong, but devious. Shapeshifter, lures people to its lair and eats them. Men, women, it doesn’t discriminate. The footprints are residual oxidized copper that it leaves behind. Means it’s probably young, to make mistakes like that.”

“But h-how- why, w-what the hell are we doing here if monsters are real and EATING people,” I managed between breaths.

“It’s the job, kid. Find out what’s going on and neutralise the threat if one’s present. Do some good, bring in evidence, get paid.”

“You do this shit for a living?” my voice was incredulous, scandalised.

“Not this specifically, but it’s sometimes a part of it, yeah,” his voice had taken on a hint of sadness. “Been a while since I’ve seen carnage like this, I’ll admit.”

“And you felt it was important for me to know about this now? The hell… why?”

“Answer’s two-fold. You’re basically one bad day away from imploding. We need to shock your system so badly that whatever’s blocking your Sigil breaks. And I thought it would be polite to introduce you to everything before you’ll have the first fight for your life.”

“Abilities? What abilities? Implode? Fight? Wha–”

“Heads up.”

“WHAT THE FU–”

“I was not expecting company,” came a smooth female voice from the door we’d entered. My head went up, nausea present, but forgotten.

A beautiful woman filled my vision. Porcelain skin and wavy blond hair framing a heart shaped face with piercing yellow eyes. She was wearing a flattering summer dress and I absently noted that her right leg was gleaming a coppery colour in the candlelight.

Looking at her, the horrible scene surrounding us faded away and I felt myself getting slightly pulled in her direction. My mind seemed cloudy as I started thinking of ways I could be helpful to her, ways I could please her.

As I started moving towards her, there was a flicker of something on her face, like it glitched for a moment, and I saw what was hidden underneath. A humanoid creature with slitted yellow eyes, scaley skin and jagged teeth. Then her – no its – human visage was back.

Something entered my field of vision, and the pulling stopped immediately. Colson had moved in front of me, blocking it from my sight.

“Aw, you are no fun,” the voice carried a sinister undertone as it addressed Colson. “Why not let me take the young one off your hands? He looks delicious.”

Colson was hot. Literally. I could feel waves of heat emanating from him, the air shimmering and distorting slightly just off of his skin.

“Shut your mouth. You’ve already eaten your fill. If it was up to me, I’d just kill you and take your head to my employer, but we’ve got things to do first.”

“Hah, take my head fleshling? I would love to see you tr–”

“I said. Shut. Up.” Colson spat, holding it by the throat.

There was no warning, no sound. One moment Colson was within arm’s reach, the next he held it aloft, air rushing to fill the vacuum he’d left behind.

“NGH!” came its only reply, eyes glaring at him in hatred.

He squeezed around its throat, his hand shimmering in the dark. It tried to scream, but only managed a strangled noise as the skin around its throat began to melt. He held it like that for a good minute before dropping it on the floor. I was too stunned to move, let alone speak.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, filth,” his voice was rife with disgust. “You’re gonna be fighting the kid here,” he gestured at me, “you’re to use bodily abilities only. If I sense any external manipulation like that little charm ability you tried to use, you die. If you pick up a weapon, you die. If you try to run, you die,” he listed the terms coldly, its hatred replaced with fear as he squatted down to its level.

“Wait, Colson, what are you–”

“Listen up, kid. We’re gonna go down to the ground floor. It has a nice open space, and we can light it up using these candles and our phones.”

“What makes you think I’ll go along with this? The hell, Colson, you’re asking me to k-kill someone in cold blood or die trying? I won’t do it,” I protested.

“If you don’t do this now, you’ll die soon. I know you can’t feel it, and this may sound like bullshit, but something is restraining your Sigil. Keeping it from connecting to your soul. And it’s not cold blood, you’ll be fighting the thing that’s been killing people in this area. Twenty-six, by my count.”

“Sigil? Soul? What the shit. What, so my choices are to die, or die? What kind of a choice is that?”

“Your choices are to win or die kid. On top of all the stress you’ve been put through tonight, a prolonged fight for your life should be enough to wear down the barrier dividing your soul. That’s Imara’s theory at least.”

“Wait, THEORY?”

“The only certainties in life are death and taxes.”

“FUCK!” I shouted in frustration.

I took a deep breath. “This is really the thing that killed all those people?”

“It is.”

“I am,” the empousa supplied.

“Shut up,” Colson gave it a glare and it looked at the floor sullenly. What kind of power did he have to pacify a seasoned killer monster so easily? My brain was in overdrive, trying to rationalise what I was experiencing. If I didn’t do this, I could die. Assuming I believed him. I wanted to believe him, to believe he wasn’t leading me on for some sinister reason. And that thing had killed people. Steeling myself, I made a decision, my conscience screaming in protest.

“Fine. But you owe me big time, after this. I want an explanation, and not some half-assed flimsy excuse mentioning souls and destiny and the chosen one.”

Colson snorted, “I never said you were the chosen one.”

“Shut up and let me have my moment here,” I quipped back. I had no idea where this humerous side of me appeared from.

A fight I could handle. A fight I could do. I’d been fighting my whole life. Death? Well, there were still many things I’d love to do, but if it meant getting rid of a serial killer, or monster, then that wouldn’t be the worst way to go. Right?

When I reflected on my emotional state for most of the evening, I don’t know where this acceptance and apathy was coming from, but I clung to it like a drowning man to a piece of lumber. Maybe it was the anticipation of a fight, rearing its head, or maybe I simply knew this thing deserved to die.

Colson instructed the empousa to pick up as many of the candles as it could carry, and we each equipped ourselves as well, then headed downstairs.

It took us a while to space and light the candles, angling our phones so we had a properly lit area where I could see the entire floor. I suspected this was mostly for my benefit. It probably had me at a disadvantage concerning night vision.

We stood opposite one another, almost like a sparring match back home.

“Before we begin, I have a couple of questions for you,” I said.

“Ask your questions then, meat,” its voice was disdainful.

“Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

It shrugged. “Not really. Life is cheap, death is cheaper. We all die.”

“Why’d you kill all those people?”

“I was hungry,” it tilted its head at me.

“That’s it? Couldn’t you just have stolen meat from a butcher?”

“It is not the same, I need lifeblood to–”

“Enough,” Colson’s voice interrupted. “Ethan, I’ll answer your questions when the fight’s over.” He rummaged around in his right boot and brought up a small double-edged knife, handing it to me.

“I thought you said no weapons, firekeeper,” it sullenly reprimanded.

“No weapons for you, but you don’t need it, do you?”

“Hmm, I suppose you have a point.”

“Ethan, get ready. Tranquil mind. On behalf of the Board of Enforcement, I hereby stand witness to this battle between Ethan and the empousa – whatever the hell your name is, I don’t care. The battle is until death. Should the empousa win, it will be immediately killed by I, Colson, for its crime against the people of Earth.”

Shaking, I took a ready stance. I brought the knife up in front of me with my right hand and took a couple of deep breaths, finding my focus. I half expected resistance, but it came as easily as breathing this time. I tried not to let his words affect me, succeeding partially. It was disturbing.

While I did that, its demeanour changed, and the pretty face shimmered and melted away to reveal the creature I’d briefly glimpsed earlier. Its teeth elongated as it unhinged its jaw while its fingers turned into sharp hooked claws.

Holy sh–

“Fight,” came the command.

It bore down on me, and damn was it fast. In the blink of an eye, it was in front of me, swiping its claws at my face.

Narrowly dodging below its wild movement, I managed to slap at its arm to throw it off balance. It worked, the added force making it stumble, and I swiped the knife across its cheek, narrowly missing the throat.

Retreating slightly, I waited to see what it would do. To my surprise it only stood up, running the back of its hand across its cheek. Looking at the blood for a second, it narrowed its eyes at me, cocking its head to one side.

“Oh he has claws, does he? I am going to skin you and gobble you up.” Then it came at me again, even faster this time. I concentrated on dodging as it threw itself at me, movements wild and uncontrolled. A finger caught me on the forearm as I had to block one of its blows or be eviscerated, rending a gash a couple of inches long.

In retaliation I managed to kick its left knee and it buckled for a moment. Using the moment to my advantage, I stabbed it in the armpit, the knife going in up to the hilt.

Yes!

It screamed, a hideous noise that no human could ever reproduce, dazing me slightly while it swiped at random. I hurriedly danced back but not before it managed to score me across my lower abdomen, superficially.

Both of us bleeding on the floor, we stood in silence for a moment, breathing heavily.

My wound hurt, but it wasn’t fatal, whereas my stab should have rendered its right arm useless.

Should have, being the operative words.

The empousa came at me with renewed vigour, not seeming impaired at its injury in the slightest. It was enraged, hysterical, and I heard Colson’s voice instructing me from somewhere behind.

“Killing blows, Ethan. Don’t think of it as human. Head, throat, or heart.”

Nodding absently, I got in close and tried to tackle it down. I managed to get inside its guard, catching a scratch on my back for my efforts, and pinned its arms to the ground at the wrists. it gnashed its teeth at me as it tried to bite my face off, but it couldn’t quite reach. Only problem is my knife was still held in my right hand which was now locked against its wrist.

“Well, if this is where you wanted me all you had to do was ask,” it suddenly said.

The remark threw me, literally. I thought I had us in a stalemate, but it suddenly buckled underneath me and threw me over its head.

Jesus, it’s strong!

I found my footing just in time to see it coming, barrelling towards me at top speed. We collided and the back of my head was knocked against the floor. I blacked out for a split-second and came to, to see it go for my throat with an open mouth. It hadn’t managed to pin my arms so I did the only thing I could think of.

I stabbed it through the roof of its mouth.

Blood spurted over my face, and it recoiled wildly, standing up and moving away from me. It had to turn back its claws to dislodge the knife stuck in its mouth, giving me a moment to gather myself and my aching head and clear my eyes. It considered the knife briefly, then its eyes flickered to where I assumed Colson was standing and it threw it on the floor, glaring hatred at me.

“Igh ‘onna ‘ill ou, ‘eat,” it managed.

“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full,” my detached voice replied, and I heard Colson laugh.

Where the hell did that come from?

I was tiring, I could feel it through my meditation. I had to finish this fast, or I was done for. Focusing inward quickly I saw that the cracks in my mirror were larger, small pieces having already fallen to the ground.

The next instant it ran at me screaming and jumped. I slid underneath it, but it caught on and managed an incision above my collar bone. Blood running down my arm, I ran for the knife. The empousa was bearing down on me from behind. Picking it up, I turned and swung wildly, hitting it on the side of its face, nicking its eye.

The empousa didn’t care. Blinded in one eye it still managed to grab hold of my left arm and I felt the bone crack at the pressure. Tranquil mind slipped and I briefly felt my pain and fatigue in all its glory. It shook me violently and raised its other hand preparing to strike down and on reflex I let myself fall, taking it with me in a splay of entangled legs.

We tumbled in a heap, and I managed to slip around it and get on top of its back, snaking my left arm around its throat in a chokehold, my legs locked around its midriff. Squeezing as hard as I could, it still managed to stand up again and I clung on for dear life as it ran around, thrashing wildly to throw me off. Tranquil mind completely dissolved, and I tried to force it back in place as I stabbed wildly into its chest with my knife.

I hung from its back, pulled on my technique, and stabbed. Pulled, and stabbed. In, out. Suddenly I felt something shudder. Glimpsing the mirror in my mind’s eye, I saw it vibrating violently.

Breathless I was forced to let up, my strength leaving me fast. I landed on the ground. As I lay on my back the empousa turned around and lunged for me. I managed a final stab. Using the last of my reserves, I hit it right in the temple. The knife again went in all the way, but not before it’d clamped its teeth around the side of my neck like a vice.

It thrashed and I felt my vision dim, liquid pouring down my chest.

Is that my blood? Feels like a lot of blood.

Its thrashing eased gradually, and I could hear its rattling breath give out, the body going limp falling to the side. I think it took a good chunk of my throat with it.

Hah, take that you bastard... I gurgled, unable to laugh, drowning in my own blood.

I’d done it. I’d won. I was bleeding out, but I’d won. Fumbling for my neck absently, I could feel the hole where blood was pouring freely.

There’s no coming back from that. Screw you, Colson.

In my last moments I wondered why there was no white light, my life not passing before my eyes. There was just... nothing.

The mirror in my mind’s eye broke.

I vaguely registered a bright green flash, followed by the powerful smell of soil, flowers and freshly cut grass - and then my heart gave out.