Hollow Cherub!

With no time to spare, Jin conjured an illusion—a phantom of himself darting to the right as he veered left. The creature’s blade tore through the decoy, missing him by inches. But he knew the reprieve was fleeting; another strike was imminent. Desperation fueled him as he retaliated, swinging the hefty wrought-iron fire poker.

But the Hollow Cherub dodged with a grotesque twist, its head receding down its throat in an unnatural contortion to avoid the blow.

What should have been a clean miss turned into a miraculous hit. Jin’s shadow elongated, its limbs stretching grotesquely like a monstrous troll. The shadow’s blackened arms slammed into the Hollow Cherub, hurling it across the tent. It tumbled and skidded to a halt on the rough floor, only to erupt into a spine-chilling, echoing laugh. The creature’s gaping mouth twisted into a jagged grin as it clawed at the ground, dragging itself forward with relentless, jerking motions.

Jin’s breath came in ragged gasps. He scrambled back, feet tangling in discarded bedding as panic set in. The Hollow Cherub lunged again, eyes glistening with malice as it closed the distance. Its chest scraped along the floor, talons extended, a living nightmare ready to tear him apart.

Suddenly, a flash of emerald light swept through the dim tent, accompanied by the sharp, metallic sound of slicing air. A shadow in the shape of a mantis appeared, its serrated limbs slicing through the Hollow Cherub with deadly precision. The monster screeched, a sound of rage and surprise, as its body was cleaved cleanly in two.

May stood in the entrance, her eyes cold and fierce, casting a sharp silhouette against the canvas backdrop. Her shadow mantis retracted its bladed arms, folding them like a predator ready for the next strike. The halves of the Hollow Cherub twitched once, twice, and then lay still, dark ichor pooling around them.

“You took your time,” Jin panted, forcing a weak grin as relief washed over him.

May didn’t respond immediately. She moved with the grace of a warrior, surveying the remains of the monster to ensure it wouldn’t rise again. Satisfied, she turned her gaze to Jin, eyes softening slightly. “Stay alert,” she said, voice steady. “This isn’t over. The Night Tide has arrived.”

Jin nodded, pushing himself to his feet. The ground beneath them shuddered as distant roars and battle cries grew louder. May’s shadow flickered, its mantis form poised and shimmering with lethal energy, eyes glowing a gorgeous cyan. It was sharper, more physical, and deadlier than Jin’s lumbering troll, and watching it made him feel both awe and a pang of humility. A mantis was an apex predator, and that’s what he felt when under its unfathomable presence.

The power of a Tier 4…

“Can you stand?” she asked, already looking for the next threat.

“Yeah,” Jin said, straightening and summoning his shadow back to him. It loomed protectively at his back, not nearly as refined or powerful as May’s, but ready to defend nonetheless.

The noise outside the tent intensified—a clash of metal and the hiss of unseen creatures. May’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward, her shadow following with predatory elegance.

“Let’s clear a path,” she said, casting Jin a fleeting glance that brimmed with unspoken trust.

With May at the front, they cast away the tent flap and entered a larger section. Most of the sight line was obstructed by large boxes and long, neverending clothing racks full with a variety of different furs and dresses.

Using them as a wall, Jin and May crouched down and scuttled toward the vault—a smaller room attached to the side of the huge circus tent.

What happens if I die here? Jin thought as they scrambled through a clothing rack. Would my mind shatter? Or would I just make up something else?

Jin glanced down, a habit he had earned in only this world, watching his feet—feeling the muscles in his leg. Everyone; the nurses, the director, his own mum, told him that this world—his imagination—was slowly killing him. If he let it consume him, he’d truly turn insane. Whatever that meant.

And yet, why was it only here that he truly felt… alive?

May’s calloused, yet soft hand, palmed his chest. He stopped, and noticed there was another Hollow Cherub in the distance.

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May closed her eyes, and when she opened them half a second later, an illusion formed only ten feet in front of them, next to a box. She had formed a perfect image of herself. The slight pink hue of her cheeks, the vibrant pink of her dyed hair—it was a spitting image.

The monster caught sight of her right away. The real May and Jin were hidden on the other side of a large wooden crate.

Jin caught a glimpse of her shadow. It looked at him. Jin thought he saw humour in those glowing cyan eyes, but the next moment, his attention latched onto the Hollow Cherub tearing right for May’s illusion.

Arm distorting into jagged, mangled flesh and bone, it lunged its created blade right through May’s heart. Her body dissolved. May’s shadow moved at almost the same time. Just as the monster’s attack landed, so did May’s. Her shadow’s scythe lopped the baby’s head off with unparalleled effectiveness and grace.

“Keep going,” She said, pointing to the bunker tent. “I must find the others.”

Jin nodded. He knew his current strength, knew of what was out there. It wasn’t just Hallow Cherub’s. Under the guidance of May, he bolted the short distance and entered the smaller tent. At the centre, a gloomy stairwell led deep down into the earth. Just like he had done a few times before, he followed it all the way down.

There was no door, yet no monster dared come down here. The walls were ladened with enchantments and various spells that would tear into any spirit that dared wander down. Just the aura it exuded was enough to ward them off. Although Jin couldn’t feel their power. He wasn’t an Inscritpionist, and he had only heard of techniques to discover them.

Entering, he nodded to the other disciples that lined the underground hall. All of them wore an assortment of different circus costumes. Clowns, leotards, old military uniforms, taoist robes. And those were just some of what they wore.

“Jin,” A dainty voice said from the other end of the hallway. She had short blue hair, cut messily into a bob. She wore a long, flowing, eastern dress with the sides cut out of her torso. She bowed, displaying the extreme grace of an eastern lady. “The master has called for you.”

Jin grimaced. Nothing ever good happened when someone was called to meet the ringmaster. He walked up to Yuna and kept walking, she quickly caught up.

“Why was I in the dorms all alone?” Jin asked, looking down at Yuna as they walked side by side.

“You had another episode, Jin,” She said, not an expression on her face. “You know the rules, when the Night Tide comes, you drop everything and head into the bunker.”

“Could have picked me up.”

“Couldn’t. Not with you thrashing around, legs kicking us in the face.”

“Hmm,” Jin squinted his eyes and inspected the girl by his side. Apart from May, he had spent the most time with Yuna. She was a taoist. Someone that performed exorcisms for entertainment. She didn’t follow the same path as Jin, the ringmaster, or May. But she wasn’t to be looked down on. Petite or not.

Jin noticed a speck of blood from her reddened nose.

“I kicked you, didn’t I?”

She glared at him.

Jin smiled. “My bad. I do get a little crazy sometimes.”

“We’re here,” She said, stopping in front of a set of large stone doors. They were inscribed with various images of shadows and smiles. He heard screams coming from within. She added, her voice lowering, “And remember, show some respect to the ringmaster. He may have shown you leniency because of your condition, but don’t expect it to last forever—”

Jin strode forward with a smile and opened the curtains wide. What he saw shattered his otherworldly confidence.

The young master who had helped him break through to the next tier of his path, was bound and bloodied next to an oversized mortar bowl. This was the first time Jin had seen this room. The ringmaster was very particular about who was let in.

The room was large, the ceiling expansive. It was so tall, in fact, that Jin couldn’t see the top. The floors were lined with old stone tiles, grey, maybe once white. A pillar stood tall next to the ringmaster.

“Jin,” His master said, voice gloomy and detached. “What do you think?” The ringmaster grabbed the young master by his long hair, and moved him in front of the pestle. “Should I spare his life?”

Jin froze. None of this was real. Did it matter what his answer was? But, Jin didn’t like the idea of someone just… dying.

“Too late,” his master said, throwing the young man into the mortar. His shadow, as life-like as a stone giant, extended its arms into the bowl.

At what he was about to do, Jin ground his teeth together.

None of this is real. This isn’t real, he repeated in his thoughts, trying to wake himself up.

The young master screamed, yelling out that his parents would slaughter the sect. But The ringmaster turned a deaf ear. Clad in his red uniform and tall black top-hat, he began kneading the young man with his enormous Reflection, and ground his flesh and bone into a sloppy goop that swished in the bowl.

Jin’s mind spun as nausea assaulted him from every way. He stumbled and held his mouth. He closed his eyes… and when he opened them, he was back in the hospital room.

Jin gathered himself, panting for air. He still heard the sound of grinding, the wretched scream that only lasted a single second. Jin forced himself up and into his wheelchair, wheeling himself over to the table where his mirror lay, and gazed into his reflection.

It was the same as always. Blood-shot eyes, bags underneath, pale face, not a smile to be seen…

And a single spec of blood on his white shirt. Jin checked himself, his tongue, nose, face… He hadn’t bled. His heart thumped.

Where did the blood come from?