A Moment Ago
Layla watched as Lucas's body was swallowed by the shadows and dragged into the gaping hole within the corpse. She didn't flinch.
The moment it happened, she knew the summoning had succeeded. Now all she had to do was wait.
Because of the soul bond, some of the power Lucas obtained would flow to her as well. It wouldn't be perfect, but power was power, and she had learned long ago not to be picky.
She didn't even blink when the white witches raised their swords and pointed them at her.
"Stop the ritual," the old man said coldly. "Or your head will be on the ground."
Layla yawned lazily. "Aren't your patrons angels? Then you should know I can't stop it even if you kill me. Nothing can."
She tilted her head and smiled faintly. "Anyway, you've been here longer than I have, and you still couldn't make Lucas choose the so-called light. Isn't that pathetic?"
"The Lord works in mysterious—"
"Yeah, yeah," Layla interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "That's exactly why you people never win."
She sighed. "Sometimes suffering doesn't bring humans closer to their God. Sometimes it does the opposite. Haven't you ever heard of the dandelion and orchid theory?"
"Shut your mouth," the younger one snapped, glancing at the old man. "Let's just kill her."
They hesitated for only a moment but it was enough for her to move.
Layla reached for the candles beside the bedside table. Before either of them could react, the flames turned black, swallowing the light and plunging the room into unnatural darkness.
She whispered softly, her voice threading through the smoke.
"Search for me in the light, and you will find nothing. Let this fire consume me and turn me into smoke."
"What?! What the hell is she chanting?!" the younger man panicked.
Layla vanished. Only smoke remained, curling through the air, accompanied by soft laughter that mocked them from every direction.
The white witches instinctively turned back to back. The old man spoke sharply, trying to keep control.
"Calm down, Daniel. This is an illusion. She can appear anywhere. Stay focused."
"Really?" Layla's voice whispered.
She appeared directly in front of Daniel. He barely had time to gasp before her hand closed around his throat.
Panic took over. His sword swung wildly, but her body dissolved into smoke mid-strike as David shouted.
"I told you to calm down!"
Daniel's blade collided with David's sword, metal ringing sharply through the room.
"I—I'm sorry!" Daniel stammered, clutching his neck. "She was right in front of me—"
His fingers trembled as they brushed his skin. The memory of cold hands strangling him felt terrifyingly real.
David closed his eyes. He could feel her now. Everywhere. In the smoke, in the air, in the space between heartbeats. She was trying to confuse them, to turn them against each other.
His eyes snapped open. His hand shot forward and grabbed something solid.
A woman's scream tore through the room. Layla materialized fully, clawing at David's grip around her neck, her nails digging deep into his wrinkled skin until blood welled up.
"You are a witch who chose the Abyss," David said grimly. "As a white witch, I will kill you and purify your stained soul—"
But before he could finish his words, blood spilled from his mouth.
Layla's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she burst into laughter.
"Oh," she said delightedly, "you're the one who's going to be purified by my Lord."
David released her throat and staggered backward, clutching his chest. A shadow had pierced straight through him, deep and merciless.
"No… I—I can't die like this—"
The shadow withdrew and David collapsed onto the floor.
Within the writhing tendril lay his beating heart. It pulsed weakly once, then burst into black fire, burning to ash before it could hit the ground.
"David! No!" Daniel screamed. "You filthy creature! Go back to the Abyss, where you belong!"
He swung his sword at the tendril. The blade cut through it with a shriek so sharp it rattled his bones, and the shadow collapsed onto the floor, writhing.
Daniel's lips curled into a grin as he realized it was working.
The sword glowed brighter in his hands, its light searing the other tendrils that crawled out from the corpse's torn stomach, forcing them to recoil as they screamed in agony.
"This is all you've got?!" Daniel shouted.
He stabbed downward, impaling a tendril that tried to sneak up behind him. Swing after swing, he cut them down, driving them back as the shadows finally began to retreat, slithering toward the corpse as if dragged by fear itself.
Daniel stopped only when the last tendril disappeared, wiping the sweat from his temple as his breathing steadied.
He turned around to see Layla was staring at him. Her face was blank. No fear, not even a hint of surprise.
He didn't care. This was over. He just needed to kill her and end the madness.
But suddenly her eyes widened, and she dropped to her knees.
Daniel laughed. "What, now you want forgiveness?" He shook his head. "I'm not as merciful as David."
He raised his sword high. "May God forgive—"
The words died in his throat. He could feel it, something was behind him. It was overwhelming that his entire body began to tremble.
His sword lowered on its own as blood seeped from his eyes like crimson tears. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"Ah… fresh air," a deep voice murmured, amused and ancient. "After thousands of years trapped behind the Abyss."
The room was bathed in red light as crimson eyes ignited the darkness. The presence turned its gaze toward Daniel.
"A follower of the so-called new God?" the voice continued calmly. "Your existence displeases me."
An invisible force lifted Daniel into the air. His hands clawed at his throat as if trying to pry away something that wasn't there.
His face turned blue as his struggles weakened, his body jerking once before going limp.
He died without another sound.
The figure standing there wore Lucas's body, but it was only a shell now. Darkness spilled from behind him, thick and endless, coiling like a living void that moved with intent.
"Lord Asmodei," Layla said reverently, lowering her head. "I am your faithful follower. Please bless me with your darkness."
"So," the demon replied, amused, "you are the Seer."
"Yes," Layla said quickly. "I have followed your shadow since I came here. I prepared a vessel perfect for you—"
"Shhh." Asmodei cut her off. "You talk too much."
Layla clenched her hands as sweat ran down her temples. Even for her, the weight of Asmodei's presence was nearly unbearable.
"Lucas is not my vessel," Asmodei continued calmly. "He is my slave. He will follow my will. And you will follow him in return."
He turned his gaze toward the darkness outside the room, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Now," he said softly, "why don't we start the party?"