Kairo darted through the streets like a shadow swallowed in twilight. His breath was sharp, his steps rushed, and every corner turned carried the weight of dread. He needed to get home, but not to stay. He had to pack up, disappear, vanish from the map. He couldn't sleep in that apartment again, not after what had happened. Not after what he'd seen.
The problem?
He had no place to go.
No family.
No friends except one.
And his bank account? Laughable. Just barely enough to buy a meal, not rent a new place. He didn't even have a job, and at this point, the thought of applying for one felt like a cosmic joke. None of that mattered, though. Not right now. All he knew was that he needed to get his things, his few belongings, and get the hell out of the radar.
As his apartment building came into view, a sharp, thunderous boom erupted from the sky, louder than anything he'd ever heard. The shockwave smacked into him like a truck, knocking him off balance.
He stumbled, catching himself on a lamppost, blinking through the dust that now filled the air. Smoke and debris clouded his vision. He coughed, heart pounding as he squinted forward.
Where his apartment once stood, there was nothing.
Nothing but a collapsed ruin of bricks, metal, and flame. It had crumbled like paper, completely flattened, like it had never existed.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, eyes wide.
He was too late.
"Fuck," he said again, louder this time, turning on his heels and sprinting away, faster than before. He didn't know where to go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere that wasn't ground zero of a demon's revenge.
They had his name, his location.
And they were coming for him!
Some time later
In the cold locker room of an empty school gym, a single boy lay stretched across one of the metal benches. His back rose and fell with the rhythm of sleep. The silence hung thick like fog, no whistles, no chatter, just the hum of distant ACs.
Then he slipped.
Kairo drifted off the bench and thudded onto the ground.
"Argh" he groaned as his eyes blinked open. For a split second, there was a flicker of red in them, like a glitch, a flare of something ancient waking up in a modern world.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his shoulders as if trying to warm his soul. Without saying a word, he pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the shower.
After the explosion, he had nowhere else to go. He couldn't risk sleeping outside, what if one of those monsters found him in his sleep? Ripped his throat open like paper? He couldn't let that happen.
So he came here.
The school didn't have tight security. No cameras in the gym. A side window that didn't lock properly. It was perfect, for now.
After showering, he dried himself off with an old towel he found stuffed in his locker. Thankfully, a gray tracksuit still hung there from a few days ago. He wore it, his only piece of clean clothing left.
Then he heard noise.
Music?
That's weird, he thought. Today should be a weekend. No one should be here.
He walked out of the locker room, following the muffled sounds. As he stepped into the school hallway, he was hit by a wave of light, music, and voices. The corridor was packed with students drinking, laughing, dancing like the world was ending and maybe, it kind of was.
Kairo sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Right, it's the goddamn graduation party," he mumbled.
He would've been part of this.
He should've been here celebrating the end of school.
But now, all he had was fear.
He started looking for Caster. He was sure Caster had heard about the explosion. He would've been worried.
As Kairo pushed through the crowd, people gave him weird looks. A tracksuit in the middle of this? In a place full of glitter, tuxedos, and short dresses?
He didn't care.
Then he saw him.
Caster wasn't dancing. He was off to the side, leaning against a wall, staring at his phone, trying to call someone. His brow furrowed in worry, his thumb shaking slightly.
That "someone" was obviously Kairo.
He really is worried, Kairo thought, something warm tugging at his chest.
Suddenly, a girl approached Caster. She swayed seductively, placing a hand on his chest.
"Wanna dance?" she asked, biting her lip.
Caster didn't even look at her.
"Not interested," he said coldly, brushing her off.
Kairo chuckled from a distance. "He really is gay," he whispered to himself, amused.
He was about to walk toward him when he froze.
His eyes flickered red again.
A smell hit his nose.
Faint.
Rotten.
Like rotting flesh soaked in expired eggs.
That smell.
He knew it.
That scent had ruined his life.
They're here, he thought.
They found me again.
I need to leave, now!
He looked at Caster one last time from afar, eyes softening.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll come looking for you later."
Then he turned and slipped into the crowd, blending into the dancing bodies like smoke through wind.
He didn't know where the demon was.
He was just following his instincts, an urgent feeling pulling him away from danger.
Then it hit him.
The scent grew stronger.
He turned his head, sniffing.
It was the basketball court.
He stopped, staring at the double doors.
His heart pounded like a drum in a death march.
The demon is inside.
His hands trembled.
His breathing grew ragged.
Flashes of his last encounter burned in his mind, how they had almost eaten him alive like he was some juicy steak. His throat tightened.
Run.
That was the only sane thought in his head.
But his legs didn't move.
"What the hell are you doing?" he screamed to himself internally.
Move!
Run!
But his hand rose, almost on its own, and grasped the door handle.
"What am I doing?" he whispered.
He didn't know.
Maybe it was anger.
Maybe it was fear.
Maybe it was the desire for revenge, for control.
Even though his brain screamed to run, his body had its own plan, and the body was winning.
His palm pressed down.
The handle turned.
The door felt like it weighed a thousand tons.
A single thought crossed his mind trying to make sense of this madness as the crack between the doors widened.
I've killed demons before, maybe I can learn how I did it.
He stepped in.
The air inside was cold.
A metal blade pressed against his neck.
It wasn't sweat.
It was steel.
"Who are you?" a female voice asked from behind him, her breath cold against his ear.
He gulped.
"RIP," he muttered.