image [https://i.imgur.com/jpOYNWV.png]

A beautiful woman filled my vision. Porcelain skin and wavy blond hair framed 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 moved towards her, there was a flicker of something with 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 of me, 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.

I tried to interject, “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 what, k-kill someone in cold blood or die trying? I won’t do it,” I protested.

This was all moving too fast.

“If you don’t do this, you’ll probably die soon. I know you can’t feel it, and this may sound like bullshit, but something is restraining a part of your soul and we're on the clock. 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.”

“Restraining my soul? 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 glared at it and it looked at the floor sullenly.

What kind of power did he have to pacify a seasoned killer monster so easily?

My brain worked 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 this thing had killed people. Steeling myself, I made a decision, my conscience screaming in protest.

“Fine," I stated, "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 morbidly humorous side of me came 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? I didn't manage to convince myself fully.

When I reflected on my emotional state for most of the evening, I didn't know where this acceptance and apathy were coming from, but I clung to them like a drowning man to a piece of lumber. Maybe it was the anticipation of a fight. Or maybe I simply knew this thing deserved to die.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

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.

The empousa and I stood opposite one another, almost like a sparring match back at the school.

“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?”

“I suppose you have a point,” it conceded.

“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 me, Colson, for its crime against the people of New Orleans.”

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 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,” it declared in a raspy voice.

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 claw caught me on the forearm because I had to block one of its blows or be eviscerated, rending a gash a couple of inches long. Gash or die. I'd choose gash any day of the week.

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, 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 by its injury in the slightest. It was enraged, and 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 couldn’t quite reach.

The only problem was my knife, 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,” the empousa suddenly said in a sultry voice.

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. Pulling out the knife, the empousa considered it 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, blood pouring from its mouth.

“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 tired, 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, the empousa ran at me screaming and jumping. I slid underneath it, but it caught on and managed an incision above my collarbone. Blood ran down my arm and I bolted for the knife, the empousa bearing down on me from behind. Picking it up, I turned and swung wildly, hitting it on the side of its face, and 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 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 and falling to the side. There was a hideous tearing sound and it felt like the empousa took a good chunk of my throat with it.

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