Night had already completely taken over the city when the convoy crossed the final security gate.
The police car moved slowly along a narrow road, flanked by tall metal fences, illuminated by white floodlights that cast harsh shadows across the ground. There were no signs indicating where they were. No symbols. Only concrete, steel, and silence.
Francielly watched everything through the window, in silence.
The building appeared ahead like a massive block, almost buried into the terrain. No visible windows, just a wide entrance protected by thick automatic doors. The car stopped. A scanner was activated. Another gate opened.
— Welcome to the place where unexplainable things end up — Hamilton said, breaking the silence.
She didn't respond.
As they stepped out, the air felt different. Colder. Drier. The sound of their own footsteps echoed strangely, as if the place were perpetually too empty.
Two agents escorted them inside the building. The doors closed behind them with a heavy, final sound.
The main corridor was long, illuminated by continuous white ceiling lights. The walls were smooth, gray, devoid of any decoration. Everything there seemed designed to leave no trace.
— Have you ever been somewhere like this before? — Hamilton asked, walking beside her.
— No — Francielly replied. — And I hope I never come back.
Hamilton gave a brief, nearly nonexistent half-smile.
— Not everyone gets that lucky.
They entered a wide, metallic elevator. Hamilton pressed an unnumbered button. The doors closed, and the elevator began to descend.
— How many floors? — Francielly asked.
— Enough that no one would hear if something went wrong — he replied, without irony.
The elevator stopped. The doors opened to another corridor, even quieter. At the far end, a reinforced glass door led to the main research room.
On the other side, technicians moved carefully, wearing gloves, masks, and protective suits. Equipment blinked, screens displayed incomprehensible graphs.
Francielly stopped when she saw, through the glass, the creature.
The body lay on a metal table, restrained by supports. Even motionless, it still seemed… wrong. The skin didn't reflect light as it should. The shape of the torso was slightly asymmetrical, as if it had been assembled in a hurry.
— That's what I killed — she murmured.
— Yes — Hamilton confirmed. — And it probably wasn't the first.
He turned to her.
— I want to understand something. — Pause. — How do you think this got into your apartment?
Francielly thought for a few seconds.
— I don't know. When I arrived, it was already there. — She took a deep breath. — It seemed… scared. Like it was running away.
Hamilton frowned.
— Running from what?
— I don't know. I just know it wasn't there by accident.
He nodded slowly.
— We're starting to believe these things… — he glanced at the body — aren't irrational. They avoid cameras. Avoid records. Isolated places. People who are alone.
— Then it picked the wrong person — she said dryly.
Hamilton stared at her a second longer than necessary.
— Maybe.
They walked to a nearby table. Hamilton rested his hands on the metal.
— How old are you, Francielly?
— Fifteen.
Hamilton raised his eyebrows slightly, surprised.
— Fifteen… — he repeated. — And your parents?
She hesitated before answering.
— I don't have any.
The silence that followed was different from all the others in that place.
Hamilton looked away for a moment, took a deep breath, like someone who hadn't expected that answer — or didn't want to hear it.
— I understand — he said finally. — Let's continue.
Some time passed. Francielly remained seated, watching the scientists work. She didn't understand the numbers or the graphs, but she felt this was far from something simple.
A side door opened, and a man in a lab coat entered hurriedly, holding several printed pages.
— Commander — he said. — We have something solid.
— Go ahead, Michael.
The scientist handed over the report. Hamilton began reading, scanning line by line, his expression growing increasingly serious.
Francielly watched in silence.
— Intense energy field… — Hamilton murmured. — Not compatible with common matter.
Michael nodded.
— We detected a constant signature around the body. It's not electricity, nor any known radiation. It's… something else.
— Spirit? — Hamilton asked bluntly.
— In a way. — Michael adjusted his glasses. — A physical spirit. Something that should be intangible, but possesses material form.
Hamilton turned the page.
— And its nature?
Michael hesitated for a second.
— Malicious. Extremely.
The commander closed the report.
— So what we're looking at here is…
— A demon — Michael finished.
Francielly felt a chill run down her spine.
— You're… serious? — she asked.
Hamilton turned to her.
— I've never been more serious in my life.
Michael pointed to a note on the paper.
— We've provisionally classified it as Y119. Just a code. Until we better understand what we're dealing with.
— Y119… — Francielly repeated, looking at the body again.
— And what are you going to do now? — she asked.
Hamilton carefully folded the report.
— Prepare the world for something it doesn't believe exists.
He gestured to one of the agents.
— Take her back. She has nothing more to add here.
Francielly stood up.
— And if another one appears?
Hamilton looked at her, serious.
— Then it won't be an accident anymore.
She was escorted out. As she walked back through the cold corridors, the image of the body lingered in her mind.
A name had been given.
And that, more than anything else, meant it wasn't the last.
The door closed behind her.
And deep within the laboratory, the Y119 report became the first file of something that could never be erased.
DEMONIC
Season 1 — Episode 2
Part 2: Observer
The police car moved through nearly empty streets, lit only by spaced-out streetlights and storefronts long since dark. The engine's hum was constant, almost hypnotic, breaking the stillness of the early morning.
Francielly sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed over her body, staring out the window without truly seeing anything. The officer drove without saying a word, respecting the heavy silence inside the vehicle.
— Do you live alone? — he asked after a few minutes.
— I do — she replied, without turning her head.
The officer nodded.
— Must have been… a difficult night.
She didn't respond this time.
The car turned the corner onto the street where everything had happened just hours earlier. Francielly felt her heart instinctively speed up.
But something was wrong.
There was no police tape.
No patrol cars.
No onlookers.
Not even the damaged car.
The officer parked as if dropping someone off after a normal workday.
— We're here — he said.
Francielly stepped out slowly, looking around. The street was clean. Silent. Too normal.
She stared at the spot where the car should have been.
Empty.
— The… car — she murmured.
— What car? — the officer asked, confused.
She closed her mouth. Swallowed.
— Nothing. Thanks for the ride.
He nodded and drove away, leaving only the sound of the engine fading into the distance.
Francielly stood still for a few seconds, feeling a chill creep up her spine. It was as if the previous night had been erased with a giant eraser.
She entered the building.
The hallway was clean. No marks. No scratches. No signs of struggle. The walls even looked freshly cleaned.
— As if it never happened… — she whispered.
Inside her apartment, she closed the door carefully, turning the key slowly. Everything was exactly as she had left it. The window intact. The floor clean. No trace of blood.
No knife out of place.
She rubbed her face, trying to organize her thoughts.
— Y119… — she murmured, remembering the cold, technical name.
She walked into the small kitchen. Opened the fridge. Grabbed something simple, almost automatically. The sound of the pan on the stove felt far too loud in the apartment's silence.
She sat at the table and ate slowly, without hurry, without hunger. Each bite was another effort to convince herself she was still there, still real.
The laboratory.
The body.
The money.
The name.
Everything felt distant, as if it had happened to someone else.
After eating, she went to the bedroom. Lay down on the bed without changing clothes, staring at the ceiling.
— A demon… — she thought. — And I killed one.
She closed her eyes.
Sleep came heavy, far too fast.
Darkness.
There was no ground.
There was no sky.
There was no sound.
Francielly opened her eyes and felt her stomach drop.
Everything was black. An absolute black, without depth, without texture. She tried to take a step and realized she wasn't moving, as if the space around her didn't obey normal rules.
— Hello? — she called.
No answer.
A chill ran along her neck.
Then she felt it.
She didn't hear it.
She didn't see it.
She felt it.
She turned slowly.
The creature was there.
Humanoid. Far too thin. Far too tall. Tall in an impossible way — over six meters, its body elongated as if stretched by force. Its arms hung at its sides, long and slender. Its legs seemed to touch a ground that didn't exist.
The face… was the worst part.
The eyes formed two deep white "X" shapes, fixed on her.
And the smile.
A white smile, far too wide, stretched from ear to ear, unmoving.
The creature didn't breathe.
Didn't approach.
Didn't attack.
It just watched.
Francielly screamed and tried to back away, but her body didn't move as it should. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from her chest.
— NO! — she screamed.
The creature tilted its head slightly to the side.
That was all.
Like someone curious.
She slowly realized that nothing was happening. No attack. No words. No movement beyond that small gesture.
The fear was still there… but something else began to surface.
— You… — her voice trembled. — You're not going to do anything?
The creature remained still.
The smile didn't change.
The "X" eyes stayed locked onto her, as if analyzing every detail, every thought, every heartbeat.
Francielly struggled to breathe, but began to understand something terrible.
It wasn't there to hurt her.
It was there to observe her.
Tears streamed down her face, not from pain, but from pure despair.
— What do you want from me? — she whispered.
The creature didn't respond.
The darkness around them seemed to close in slowly, as if the space itself were breathing with her.
The smile remained.