In a realm where demons don't sharp suits and hidden desires can turn painful, Ezra's curse comes to life... The shrill sound of the alarm clock cut through the silence at 6:47 AM, yet Ezra Kane had been wide awake, staring at his ceiling for hours. His rundown apartment in the depths of New Avalon was alive with the low hum of cheap enchanted wards—flickering like a faulty neon sign, barely keeping the shadows away.
Ezra climbed out of bed, his muscles sore from last night's freelance hacking gig. Working on security systems for less-than-reputable clients kept the bills paid, but it left him feeling empty, as if he had auctioned off parts of his soul to the highest bidder. Glancing at his reflection in the bathroom mirror felt like being deceived: a sharp jawline, disheveled black hair, eyes resembling stormy skies. At just 28, he already looked like he'd tangoed with death itself.
He reached for coffee—black and bitter, no sugar—because he preferred the bite over the sweetness that soothed others. As he poured it into a chipped mug, the steam swirled upward like a lover's gentle caress. Then, it hit him: an unsettling tug deep in his stomach, pulling him toward something dangerous and taboo.
This world had its own rules. A half-mortal, half-shadow existence meant Ezra had always evaded the abyss's siren call. But today? Today, the abyss seemed to stare right back at him. The subway jolted and shook, filled with people completely unaware of the rift-walkers brushing past them. Ezra held onto the pole tightly, feeling a chill as if unseen eyes were watching him. Was it just paranoia, or was the curse beginning to unravel?
At Apex Dynamics, the towering glass structure stood like a testament to corporate misdeeds. In her corner office, Ms. Hale barked out instructions—another day of sifting through data and battling deadlines. Just as Ezra was in the middle of fixing a glitchy algorithm, his monitor started to distort. The code morphed into ancient symbols that seemed strangely alive.
"Ezra? Are you alright?" Lila, who sat next to him, looked over with concern. Her presence felt perfectly normal and human—no signs of demonic influence. Lucky her.
"I'm fine. Just a little... glitch," he replied, forcing a smile. But inside, he felt a stronger pull toward the executive floors. Toward him.
Kael Voss—the name slithered through whispered conversations in the boardroom. He was the heir to the Voss dynasty, a pureblood demon with a smile that could break any barrier. Why was he involved? And why now?
Ezra's hands tingled at the thought of his hidden athame. Should he confront this, or just run? The world had never offered him an easy choice. It simply consumed everything in its path.
And it had sharp teeth.