The air was covered with mist. But not the kind that glides gently through a field.
This mist pulled at the skin. Cold. Dense. Breathing like it was alive.
Scattered across the stone floor of this place were massive rocks — smooth, ancient, and shaped like door frames. Dozens. Hundreds. Each one held a door — some wooden, some rusted iron.
A low creaking echoed.
From the fog rolled a creature — hunched and shriveled — its body covered in purple pox that pulsed like boils.
Its face had no eyes, and instead of a nose, there were three narrow slits that flared open with every breath like leaking steam vents.
It dragged behind it a cart made of black bone, the wheels squealing like tortured metal.
On that cart?
Bottles.
Dozens of them.
Each one glowing blue like captured souls turned to liquid. The glow danced and shimmered in the fog like trapped lightning.
The creature stopped at a door with claw marks etched into the frame.
It opened it without knocking.
SSSSHHHHH!!!
A flash of blue light screamed out from inside, laughing as it shot into the mist like a banshee let loose.
"NO!" the creature screeched in a raspy growl. Its gnarled hands fumbled for the runaway bottle, but the light zipped left, then right, then disappeared.
The demon hissed, panic swelling in its shriveled gut.
It looked around, then bolted — dragging the cart in a frenzy.
It skidded toward a door made of dark woods, its frame dripping black ichor.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A voice called from inside.
"Come in."
The demon shoved the door open and stepped inside.
—
Inside the room… was a club.
Music pulsed from speakers shaped like twisted skulls. The floor was lava-glass. Bottles floated midair. The color scheme was neon and demonic.
But the main attraction?
A human.
Curled in a booth. Sobbing.
He clutched a beer bottle like a lifeline, muttering the same words over and over.
"I didn't mean it… I didn't mean it…"
He raised the bottle.
Drank.
Smashed it on the table.
It rewound.
He clutched the bottle again.
"I didn't mean it…"
It was a loop. An emotional purgatory.
At the end of the club, seated on a throne made of coiled serpents and broken angel wings, sat a figure.
Blue-skinned. Reptilian. Scaled.
Its tail swayed lazily over the dance floor, its yellow eyes scanning nothing.
A soul-binder. A demon lord.
One of Hell's archivists.
The panicked demon dropped to one knee before it.
"M-Master Xorth," it stammered.
The demon lord didn't look up.
"What is it, Drogh?"
Drogh twisted his bony fingers. "It's… it's bad, master. One of the bottled ones—he's gone."
Xorth's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean 'gone'?"
Drogh winced. "Escaped. Slipped through a door. To the mortal world."
There was a pause.
Then—
The club went silent.
The music screeched to a halt.
The crying man in the booth flickered and froze mid-sentence.
Xorth rose from his throne.
All seven feet of him.
His claws flexed, his forked tongue flicking the air.
"A soul escaped containment?"
Drogh nodded frantically.
"I-It happened just moments ago, but it was a tagged soul. One of the defiant ones. We had it marked for eternal suppression but—"
"And the Judge?" Xorth hissed.
Drogh dropped lower. "He doesn't know. Not yet. The mists haven't reported."
Xorth's tail cracked the floor like a whip.
"We CANNOT allow this to reach him. If that soul bonds with a living vessel—"
He stopped.
Then growled.
"…It could destroy hell's heirachy"
Drogh trembled. "W-What do we do?"
Xorth's eyes burned like twin suns.
"We hunt it."
He turned to the wall behind him — where a giant black mirror rippled like water.
"Find the soul. Bring it back. Dead or broken. But do not let it bond with a mortal."
Drogh nodded, scrambling back toward the door.
"And Drogh…"
The demon froze.
Xorth smiled. It was not kind.
"If you fail again…"
He lifted a hand.
And just like that, one of the bottles on Drogh's cart exploded, releasing a scream that shook the walls.
"…You'll take its place."
Drogh didn't need to be told twice.
He vanished into the mist.
Lucas grumbled under his breath as he dragged the overstuffed trash bag out the back door, the porch light flickering like it wanted to give up on life too.
The cold bit into his skin. Damp air. Midnight silence.
He tossed the trash into the bin with a loud *thud*, wiping his palms on his jeans.
And then—
Bark. Bark. Bark!
His head jerked to the right.
A dog?
No. Not just any bark.
That sound was wrong.
It echoed, doubled… distorted. Like it was barking through water—or a speaker tuned to nightmares.
He stepped forward cautiously, peering past the neighbor's hedge. Across the street, four buildings down, a thin blue mist coiled up from the ground like smoke unraveling.
Then—it formed a shape.
A ghost.
It rose slowly, flickering, crackling with electric blue veins. It laughed—high, cold, not human—and then shot forward like a missile, phasing straight through the side of the apartment complex.
Lucas stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own shoes.
"What the heck…?"
He darted back inside, shutting the door like it would protect him from whatever the universe was cooking now.
His voice was low but urgent as he stepped into the cellar. "Kade! Kade, I need you to come out right now!"
No answer.
"Kade," Lucas hissed again, trying not to shout. "I saw a ghost. Like… like you. But worse. It went into someone's house. Four buildings over."
Silence.
Then—
A pop and a flash.
Kade phased through the ceiling and floated down with a lazy yawn. "Sorry, had to mentally bleach my brain. You do know your dad's been on the same page of that magazine for an hour, right?"
Lucas blinked. "Why would that—wait." He squinted. "Why were you staring at my dad?"
Kade shrugged, gesturing toward the hallway. "Thought he was reading something knowledgeable . Turns out he's been flipping between ads and low-resolution nudie pics."
Lucas's face twisted in horror. "Oh my God—dude!"
"Right?!" Kade shivered. "Trauma. Real trauma. Don't worry, I'll start charging him rent for the mental space he's taking up."
Lucas groaned, gripping his forehead. "Forget my dad. Did you… did you bring any other ghosts with you when you came?"
Kade raised a brow. "What? No. Why would I? This isn't group therapy."
"Because I just saw one. Like, blue mist, evil aura, dog-barking sound. It went into someone's house."
Kade's face shifted. A flicker of seriousness.
"No one leaves Hell without the Judge knowing," he muttered. "Unless…"
"Unless what?" Lucas asked.
Before Kade could answer, a voice rang out from the kitchen above.
"Lucas!"
It was his mom.
He groaned, then answered with the weariness of a soldier on his last day of war. "Yes, Mom?"
"Make sure you wash my laundry before you sleep!"
Lucas exhaled. "Yes, Mom."
Footsteps shuffled away. Doors creaked. A distant "Goodnight" floated from her lips to the other kids.
Kade hovered in the air, watching all of it.
"You okay?" he asked, more quietly now.
Lucas just nodded. "I'm used to it."
Kade looked away, then muttered, "Gonna… go check the attic."
He phased out again.
And for a moment, everything went quiet.
Until—
SCHHHH!
A swirl of dark mist tore open behind Kade in midair. A portal, crackling with demonic energy and leaking heat.
From within stepped a figure.
Xorth.
He stood in the air like it was a solid floor, arms folded.
Kade flinched. "Oh crap. The lizard king's here."
Xorth's voice dripped with false politeness. "I see you're still floating around like pond scum."
Kade smirked. "Nice to see you too, Xorth. What's with the surprise pop-in? "
Xorth's eyes narrowed. "A soul has escaped Hell."
Kade blinked. "Wait—escaped?"
Xorth stepped forward, mist curling behind him. "A tagged soul. One of the defiant. It slipped through containment… and entered the mortal world."
Kade's humor dropped.
He floated backward, brows furrowing. "So you want me to find it."
Xorth nodded. "Correct. Hunt it down. Bring it back. Dead or broken—I don't care."
Kade crossed his arms. "What's in it for me?"
There was silence.
Then—
Xorth smiled. Slowly.
"I'll have your memory… erased."
Kade froze.
That one word hit harder than any threat.
He looked away, eyes distant.
And for a flicker—just a flicker—a soft memory bubbled up.
A little girl.
Smiling.
Running toward him with arms wide, barefoot in a flower field.
"Daddy!"
His breath caught in his ghostly lungs.
He hadn't heard that name from her in decades.
He shut his eyes.
Then opened them again, cold.
"…Fine."
Xorth's smile widened.
"The clock is ticking. Find the soul. And remember—don't let the Judge know."
With a hiss of air, the portal twisted shut.
Kade hovered alone in the dark for a long moment.
Then whispered to himself—
"…This is gonna mess everything up."
The air was covered with mist. But not the kind that glides gently through a field.
This mist pulled at the skin. Cold. Dense. Breathing like it was alive.
Scattered across the stone floor of this place were massive rocks — smooth, ancient, and shaped like door frames. Dozens. Hundreds. Each one held a door — some wooden, some rusted iron.
A low creaking echoed.
From the fog rolled a creature — hunched and shriveled — its body covered in purple pox that pulsed like boils.
Its face had no eyes, and instead of a nose, there were three narrow slits that flared open with every breath like leaking steam vents.
It dragged behind it a cart made of black bone, the wheels squealing like tortured metal.
On that cart?
Bottles.
Dozens of them.
Each one glowing blue like captured souls turned to liquid. The glow danced and shimmered in the fog like trapped lightning.
The creature stopped at a door with claw marks etched into the frame.
It opened it without knocking.
SSSSHHHHH!!!
A flash of blue light screamed out from inside, laughing as it shot into the mist like a banshee let loose.
"NO!" the creature screeched in a raspy growl. Its gnarled hands fumbled for the runaway bottle, but the light zipped left, then right, then disappeared.
The demon hissed, panic swelling in its shriveled gut.
It looked around, then bolted — dragging the cart in a frenzy.
It skidded toward a door made of dark woods, its frame dripping black ichor.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A voice called from inside.
"Come in."
The demon shoved the door open and stepped inside.
—
Inside the room… was a club.
Music pulsed from speakers shaped like twisted skulls. The floor was lava-glass. Bottles floated midair. The color scheme was neon and demonic.
But the main attraction?
A human.
Curled in a booth. Sobbing.
He clutched a beer bottle like a lifeline, muttering the same words over and over.
"I didn't mean it… I didn't mean it…"
He raised the bottle.
Drank.
Smashed it on the table.
It rewound.
He clutched the bottle again.
"I didn't mean it…"
It was a loop. An emotional purgatory.
At the end of the club, seated on a throne made of coiled serpents and broken angel wings, sat a figure.
Blue-skinned. Reptilian. Scaled.
Its tail swayed lazily over the dance floor, its yellow eyes scanning nothing.
A soul-binder. A demon lord.
One of Hell's archivists.
The panicked demon dropped to one knee before it.
"M-Master Xorth," it stammered.
The demon lord didn't look up.
"What is it, Drogh?"
Drogh twisted his bony fingers. "It's… it's bad, master. One of the bottled ones—he's gone."
Xorth's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean 'gone'?"
Drogh winced. "Escaped. Slipped through a door. To the mortal world."
There was a pause.
Then—
The club went silent.
The music screeched to a halt.
The crying man in the booth flickered and froze mid-sentence.
Xorth rose from his throne.
All seven feet of him.
His claws flexed, his forked tongue flicking the air.
"A soul escaped containment?"
Drogh nodded frantically.
"I-It happened just moments ago, but it was a tagged soul. One of the defiant ones. We had it marked for eternal suppression but—"
"And the Judge?" Xorth hissed.
Drogh dropped lower. "He doesn't know. Not yet. The mists haven't reported."
Xorth's tail cracked the floor like a whip.
"We CANNOT allow this to reach him. If that soul bonds with a living vessel—"
He stopped.
Then growled.
"…It could destroy hell's heirachy"
Drogh trembled. "W-What do we do?"
Xorth's eyes burned like twin suns.
"We hunt it."
He turned to the wall behind him — where a giant black mirror rippled like water.
"Find the soul. Bring it back. Dead or broken. But do not let it bond with a mortal."
Drogh nodded, scrambling back toward the door.
"And Drogh…"
The demon froze.
Xorth smiled. It was not kind.
"If you fail again…"
He lifted a hand.
And just like that, one of the bottles on Drogh's cart exploded, releasing a scream that shook the walls.
"…You'll take its place."
Drogh didn't need to be told twice.
He vanished into the mist.
Lucas grumbled under his breath as he dragged the overstuffed trash bag out the back door, the porch light flickering like it wanted to give up on life too.
The cold bit into his skin. Damp air. Midnight silence.
He tossed the trash into the bin with a loud *thud*, wiping his palms on his jeans.
And then—
Bark. Bark. Bark!
His head jerked to the right.
A dog?
No. Not just any bark.
That sound was wrong.
It echoed, doubled… distorted. Like it was barking through water—or a speaker tuned to nightmares.
He stepped forward cautiously, peering past the neighbor's hedge. Across the street, four buildings down, a thin blue mist coiled up from the ground like smoke unraveling.
Then—it formed a shape.
A ghost.
It rose slowly, flickering, crackling with electric blue veins. It laughed—high, cold, not human—and then shot forward like a missile, phasing straight through the side of the apartment complex.
Lucas stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own shoes.
"What the heck…?"
He darted back inside, shutting the door like it would protect him from whatever the universe was cooking now.
His voice was low but urgent as he stepped into the cellar. "Kade! Kade, I need you to come out right now!"
No answer.
"Kade," Lucas hissed again, trying not to shout. "I saw a ghost. Like… like you. But worse. It went into someone's house. Four buildings over."
Silence.
Then—
A pop and a flash.
Kade phased through the ceiling and floated down with a lazy yawn. "Sorry, had to mentally bleach my brain. You do know your dad's been on the same page of that magazine for an hour, right?"
Lucas blinked. "Why would that—wait." He squinted. "Why were you staring at my dad?"
Kade shrugged, gesturing toward the hallway. "Thought he was reading something knowledgeable . Turns out he's been flipping between ads and low-resolution nudie pics."
Lucas's face twisted in horror. "Oh my God—dude!"
"Right?!" Kade shivered. "Trauma. Real trauma. Don't worry, I'll start charging him rent for the mental space he's taking up."
Lucas groaned, gripping his forehead. "Forget my dad. Did you… did you bring any other ghosts with you when you came?"
Kade raised a brow. "What? No. Why would I? This isn't group therapy."
"Because I just saw one. Like, blue mist, evil aura, dog-barking sound. It went into someone's house."
Kade's face shifted. A flicker of seriousness.
"No one leaves Hell without the Judge knowing," he muttered. "Unless…"
"Unless what?" Lucas asked.
Before Kade could answer, a voice rang out from the kitchen above.
"Lucas!"
It was his mom.
He groaned, then answered with the weariness of a soldier on his last day of war. "Yes, Mom?"
"Make sure you wash my laundry before you sleep!"
Lucas exhaled. "Yes, Mom."
Footsteps shuffled away. Doors creaked. A distant "Goodnight" floated from her lips to the other kids.
Kade hovered in the air, watching all of it.
"You okay?" he asked, more quietly now.
Lucas just nodded. "I'm used to it."
Kade looked away, then muttered, "Gonna… go check the attic."
He phased out again.
And for a moment, everything went quiet.
Until—
SCHHHH!
A swirl of dark mist tore open behind Kade in midair. A portal, crackling with demonic energy and leaking heat.
From within stepped a figure.
Xorth.
He stood in the air like it was a solid floor, arms folded.
Kade flinched. "Oh crap. The lizard king's here."
Xorth's voice dripped with false politeness. "I see you're still floating around like pond scum."
Kade smirked. "Nice to see you too, Xorth. What's with the surprise pop-in? "
Xorth's eyes narrowed. "A soul has escaped Hell."
Kade blinked. "Wait—escaped?"
Xorth stepped forward, mist curling behind him. "A tagged soul. One of the defiant. It slipped through containment… and entered the mortal world."
Kade's humor dropped.
He floated backward, brows furrowing. "So you want me to find it."
Xorth nodded. "Correct. Hunt it down. Bring it back. Dead or broken—I don't care."
Kade crossed his arms. "What's in it for me?"
There was silence.
Then—
Xorth smiled. Slowly.
"I'll have your memory… erased."
Kade froze.
That one word hit harder than any threat.
He looked away, eyes distant.
And for a flicker—just a flicker—a soft memory bubbled up.
A little girl.
Smiling.
Running toward him with arms wide, barefoot in a flower field.
"Daddy!"
His breath caught in his ghostly lungs.
He hadn't heard that name from her in decades.
He shut his eyes.
Then opened them again, cold.
"…Fine."
Xorth's smile widened.
"The clock is ticking. Find the soul. And remember—don't let the Judge know."
With a hiss of air, the portal twisted shut.
Kade hovered alone in the dark for a long moment.
Then whispered to himself—
"…This is gonna mess everything up."