Sofia Patterson closed the front door behind her and leaned against it for a long moment, eyes shut, exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. It had been a long, grueling day at the police precinct—hours of giving the same statements over and over, answering every possible question about the Thompson family's murder.
She could still hear the detective's voice from earlier:
"When did you arrive at the house, Ms. Patterson?"
"Around 8:15 a.m. I usually arrive earlier, but I had to take the bus instead of the train today."
"Did you notice anyone suspicious in the area?"
"No, sir… The street was quiet. It always is."
"What did you see first when you entered?"
"The living room… everything was broken. Furniture, mirrors, vases… everything."
"And then?"
"I called for the family. No answer. I went upstairs and… found Mrs. Thompson at the top of the stairs. She was…" Sofia's voice had cracked here, and she'd had to look away. "Her body was ripped open."
They'd pressed her for more details—blood trails, exact times, her reaction—but eventually they'd let her go. She'd walked out of the precinct feeling like she'd been wrung dry.
Now, finally home, Sofia kicked off her shoes, padded into the kitchen, and poured herself a glass of red wine. The familiar clink of glass against a bottle was the first comforting sound she'd heard all day. She carried the wine to the living room and sank into the sofa, letting the cushions swallow her whole.
She stared at the wall for a while. She felt genuinely sorry for the Thompsons. Good people, polite, and respectful. But another problem loomed closer to home—she no longer had a job. No Thompson family meant no steady paycheck. Still… that would be tomorrow's problem. Tonight, she wanted to be still.
The front door opened.
Nick stepped inside, dropping his backpack onto the floor with a dull thud. He looked surprised to see his mother sitting on the sofa.
"You're home early," he muttered.
"Police let me go earlier than expected," Sofia replied, studying his face. His eyes didn't meet hers, and he kept one hand clenched in a fist at his side. The knuckles were reddened—split, even—but Nick shifted to hide them when he caught her looking.
She reached out to touch his arm. "Rough day?"
"I've got homework," he said quickly, brushing past her toward the stairs.
"Nick—" she started, but he was already halfway up.
In his room, Nick shut the door and leaned against it, jaw tight. He sat on the bed, staring at his hands. The skin across his knuckles burned, small flecks of dried blood visible. He hated Jay. Hated him for taking Katie—his Katie.
That hate burned hot and fast, wrapping itself around him like chains.
Then he heard it.
A voice. Low. Smooth. Slithering.
"I sense hate…"
Nick's eyes widened. He looked around the room. "Who's there?"
"I can feel it. I can taste it. You want him gone."
Nick's gaze drifted to his mirror. He froze. His reflection… was wrong. The "Nick" in the glass stared back at him with glowing red eyes, sharp, jagged teeth glinting under his lips, and unnaturally long, claw-like fingers.
Nick's breath caught in his throat. "What the hell…"
"Not hell," the reflection grinned. "But close enough."
Nick stepped closer. "You're… me?"
"I'm what you could be. Stronger. Faster. Capable of crushing the one you hate."
Nick shook his head. "I… I don't…"
"Don't lie. You want him gone. I can help you. All you have to do is say yes."
The mirror-version of Nick leaned forward, pressing its clawed hands against the glass as though it might step through. Its voice dropped to a whisper. "Say yes… and Jay is finished."
Nick's lips trembled. His fists clenched. "Yes."
The next morning, Nick's steps felt heavier than usual as he walked to school. His head pounded, his stomach churned—but beneath it all, there was a strange, electric thrill.
Halfway down the block, he saw Jay walking ahead, Ellie trailing just behind him.
Nick sped up.
Jay turned when he heard footsteps quicken behind him. His brow furrowed. Nick's mouth was slightly open, drool sliding down his chin. His teeth—were sharper. His silver hair had turned black. His eyes glowed a deep, burning red.
Nick wasn't Nick anymore.
The demon inside him grinned at Jay. Its gaze shifted past him, locking onto Ellie. It laughed, loud and wild. "The boss will be very pleased… finally, he can be united."
Jay frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Ellie's face went pale. She said nothing, but Jay noticed her breathing quicken.
The demon ignored him. "Killing you and taking her—two birds, one stone."
Jay lunged, but the demon sidestepped with ease, knocking him back with a single strike. Jay growled and let his human form fade, black markings crawling across his skin as horns curled from his head—his demon form.
The demon's eyes narrowed. "Mimic… So this is where you've been hiding?"
Jay's expression hardened. "Soliva."
"Boss thought you'd betrayed him," Soliva sneered. "That's why he sent me to find you. And here you are, protecting the one he needs most."
"I'm not protecting her for him. I'm—"
"Excuses!" Soliva snarled. "You were always weak. I'll kill you and take her myself. Besides boss already gave me permission to exterminate you."
The street became a blur of motion—punches, kicks, claws tearing through air. Jay fought back hard, but Soliva's strength overwhelmed him, forcing him to defend rather than attack. The pavement cracked under the force of their blows, and nearby shop windows rattled.
Soliva struck Jay across the jaw, sending him skidding backwards. "Pathetic," he spat.
Before Soliva could finish the job, a sharp voice rang out: "Enough!"
Chiaki stepped between them, her spear flashing into existence. Her eyes locked on Soliva, lips moving rapidly in an incantation. She lunged, the tip of her weapon grazing his arm—it sizzled where it touched. Soliva roared in pain.
Chiaki pressed her advantage, chanting faster, then reached into her robe and pulled out a vial. She flung its contents onto him. Holy water.
Soliva's scream echoed down the street, his form twisting and flickering before vanishing entirely.
Nick collapsed to the pavement, his hair returning to silver, his eyes normal. He was unconscious.
Jay straightened, breathing hard, but managed to force himself back into human form without Chiaki's help.
From above, something small shifted in the shadows. A demon no taller than twenty centimeters crouched on the ledge of an apartment building, its tiny wings buzzing. It had been watching the entire fight.
When Jay and Chiaki left, the creature spread its wings and took off, darting across rooftops until it reached the outskirts of the city.
An abandoned church loomed ahead. The tiny demon flew inside through a shattered window, landing on the shoulder of a man waiting in the darkness.
The man's black suit was immaculate, a long coat draped over one shoulder. His hat, wide-brimmed and black, cast his face in shadow.
The small demon leaned close, whispering in his ear.
The man's grin widened slowly, revealing teeth far too sharp for a human.
"I finally found you."