The world was frozen.
Grayscale. Still. Like a snapshot of reality forced to a standstill.
Raven knelt on the parking lot roof, breathing heavily, staring into the red eyes of the woman—not a woman—before him. Her cold hand still rested on Raven's chin, gently but forcefully lifting his face.
"You're shaking," Azaelith said, her tone slightly amused. "Fear? Or excitement?"
Raven didn't answer. he couldn't. His throat was as dry as sand.
Azaelith released his chin, standing with a graceful movement—too graceful, as if gravity didn't really affect her. She turned, gazing at the frozen city in the distance. Tall buildings, cars stalled in the middle of the road, birds suspended mid-flight in the sky.
"This world," Azaelith began, her voice a dark melody, "is vaster than humans believe. There are layers beyond layers. Realities beyond realities." She turned to Raven. "And in one of those layers we exist."
Raven forced himself to speak. "Who are we?"
A faint smile. "Spirit. Demon. Entity. Call it what you will." She walked slowly, her heels—which should have clicked on the concrete—making no sound. "We once lived alongside humans. Long ago, before the separation."
She stopped and stared at her own hands—her skin pale, her nails black and unnaturally long.
"We're separated now," she said quietly. "But not completely. There's still a gap. Something leaks. And something is hungry." Like the monster, Raven thought.
"Yes," Azaelith said, as if reading his mind—or perhaps she did. "Like the poor spirit. Dead humans with broken souls. They're trapped between worlds, thirsting for warmth they can no longer feel."
Raven forced himself to his feet. His legs trembled, but he stood, unwilling to remain kneeling. "Then what do you want?"
Azaelith laughed—a low, melodious, dangerous sound. "Get to the point. I like that." Her red eyes glinted. "But before I answer, you need to know something."
She raised her hand, her finger pointing in the air. The space before her cracked. Like shattered glass, but it didn't fall. From the cracks, light poured out—symbols burned in the air, forming complex diagrams.
"In this world," Azaelith said, "there are those who know about us. Spirit Tamers. Humans who form contracts with spirits to protect their kind from threats like the one you just faced."
The diagram changed—revealing the silhouettes of two figures, connected by a line of light.
"There are several types of contracts," she continued, her voice becoming more formal, like a teacher lecturing. "The first: a Binding Contract. A standard contract. A Spirit Tamer binds a good spirit—a spirit that still has consciousness, one that is willing to cooperate. The Tamer gains the spirit's power. The spirit has the opportunity to grow, to evolve, to become stronger through the connection with the physical world."
The diagram changed again. Two more integrated figures.
"The second: a Symbiotic Contract. Rare. Not all spirits are capable of this. Here, the tamer and spirit share a deeper existence—minds linked, powers mingled. More powerful than Binding, but requires perfect compatibility. Choose the wrong partner, and you'll both go mad."
Raven listened intently. Despite his shattered body, despite the madness of the world, his mind was still working—absorbing information, searching for openings, searching for weaknesses.
Like in a ring.
The diagram changed again. This time, one figure controlled another.
"The third: Possession Contract. Forbidden." Azaelith's tone darkened. "The tamer allows the spirit to fully enter their body. The power is immense—but the tamer loses control. They become a puppet. And usually, the spirit doesn't want to leave again."
The red eyes stared intently at Raven. "Spirit tamers caught with this contract will be executed. Without trial."
Raven swallowed. His throat was still dry.
"And finally," Azaelith raised her hand, and the diagram changed—this time showing a figure with horns and glowing eyes. "Demon Contract. Illegal. Forbidden. The greatest sin in the eyes of a Spirit Tamer."
"Why?" Raven finally asked.
"Because demons," Azaelith said with a sharp smile, "are too powerful. Contracts with us are not cooperation. Not symbiosis. It's consumption. We take more than we give. Tamers who try to contract with demons usually die within days—their bodies can't withstand our power. Those who survive," she paused, "will become monsters."
A moment of silence. Only the wind doesn't blow.
"But," Azaelith continued, stepping closer, "there's a unique type of contract. It's not official. It's not in their books."
The diagram changed one last time—two figures overlapped, unclear which was which.
"Hybrid Demon Contract."
Her voice echoed. It was as if the world itself was listening.
"Not a full Demon Contract—that would kill you instantly. This is different. I don't take over your body. I don't consume your soul. I share."
She stopped right in front of Raven, barely an inch away.
"I give you some of my power. You give me an anchor to the physical world. We exist together. Hybrid. Half human, half demon."
"Demon," Raven finished.
"Exactly."
Raven stared into those red eyes. "And the price?"
Azaelith's smile widened. "Ah. Of course there's a price. Nothing is free, human child."
She held up a finger. Black nails glistened.
"First: the physical cost. Your body will change. Slowly. The more you use my power, the more the transformation will progress. Your eyes will change. Perhaps horns will grow. Your physical strength will surpass that of a normal human—but you will no longer look human."
A second finger rose.
"Second: the cost of the soul. Every time you use demonic power, your humanity erodes. Bit by bit. Emotions fade. Empathy disappears. You will become cold, empty. Even emptier than you are now." Her red eyes flashed. "Or perhaps that's an upgrade for you?"
Raven didn't respond.
A third finger.
"Third: the social cost. This contract is illegal. Forbidden. Spirit Tamers will hunt us down. You will be their enemy—an abomination that must be destroyed. No safe haven. No allies. Just the two of us against the world."
A fourth finger.
"And fourth," her voice dropped to a whisper, "a personal price. I will be inside your head. A part of your mind. I can see your memories. Feel your emotions—what remains. And sometimes I can take over. Partial control. When you're weak. When you hesitate."
The four fingers spread out in front of Raven's face.
"Four prices. All must be paid. Non-negotiable."
Silence.
Raven stared at the hand. Then into Azaelith's red eyes.
"Why me?" he asked quietly. "Of all people, why offer this to me?"
Azaelith lowered her hand. Her smile faded slightly—the first genuine expression.
"Because your soul is empty," she said simply. "Most humans are full of something. Love, Hope, Fear, and Dreams. All of that must be destroyed before a contract can be formed. A painful and brutal process."
She touched Raven's chest—right over his heart.
"But you?" The smile returned. "You are already empty. There is nothing to destroy. You are like a ready-made, perfect vessel."
Raven felt the cold touch sink into his chest.
"So," Azaelith said, pulling her hand away, "what's your answer? Die as an empty human being no one cares about, or live as something more?"
Raven opened his mouth—
And the world shook.
Frozen reality cracked. Like glass being struck from the outside.
Azaelith turned sharply, eyes narrowed. "Tch. Of course."
"What—"
CRACK.
Reality shattered.
Color returned. Sound returned. And Time moved again.
And something else came.
From the edge of the parking lot roof, a figure emerged.
No. Not emerged. But climbed.
Something big.
Very big.
A hand—as big as a car—grabbed the edge of the concrete barrier, shattering it to pieces. Then a second hand. Then a head.
Raven instinctively backed away.
It was a monster.