The sky over Edinburgh was a churning cauldron of fury that afternoon, as if the heavens themselves had decided to swallow the city whole. Lightning cracked like whips across the blackened clouds, illuminating the ancient spires of the Old Town in fleeting, ghostly flashes. It was only four o'clock, but the world had plunged into an unnatural twilight, the kind that made your skin crawl and your heart race for no good reason. The wind howled through the narrow streets, carrying the sharp scent of impending rain, and thunder rumbled like the growl of some ancient beast stirring from its slumber.
I, clutched my bag tighter as Amy and I hurried home from college. The air was thick with humidity, clinging to our clothes a second skin.
"This weather's straight out of a horror film,"
I muttered, glancing up at the sky. My voice barely carried over the gusts.
Amy, shot me a nervous grin, her blonde ponytail whipping in the wind. "Tell me about it, nabi. Feels like the apocalypse is auditioning. Remember that time we got caught in the rain last year? This is ten times worse."
We were cutting through the woods on the edge of the city—a shortcut we'd taken a hundred times before. But today, the trees loomed like skeletal guardians, their branches clawing at the sky. The path was shrouded in fog, rolling in from the Firth of Forth like a living entity, swallowing the light and muffling our footsteps. Thunder boomed again, so close it vibrated through my chest, and I jumped, my heart pounding.
"Jesus, that scared the life out of me," I gasped,
laughing it off to hide the real fear bubbling up.
Amy grabbed my arm. "Come on, let's just get through this.
Your mum's probably got tea waiting, and I don't fancy turning into a drowned rat."
As we pushed deeper into the woods, the fog thickened, turning the world into a hazy blur. That's when we heard it—low, rhythmic chanting, like a distant hum that grew louder with each step. It wasn't the wind; it was voices, human but twisted, echoing through the trees.
"What the hell is that?" Amy whispered, freezing in place.
I strained my ears. "Sounds like... people? Maybe some weird festival or something?"
Curiosity pulled us forward, against our better judgment. We crept closer, hiding behind a cluster of gnarled oaks. Through the fog, shapes materialized: a circle of figures, maybe a dozen, all draped in long, flowing black aprons that billowed like shadows. They stood around intricate designs etched into the damp earth—pentagrams, runes, symbols that looked ancient and forbidden, glowing faintly under the stormy light.
They were chanting in unison, their voices a guttural murmur in a language I didn't recognize.
Latin?
Something older?
Their hands were raised, palms outward, as if invoking—or sealing—something at the center of the circle. In the middle, a faint outline shimmered, like a person bound by invisible chains, writhing faintly.
My blood ran cold. "Amy, this is bad. We need to go. Now."
She nodded, eyes wide with terror. "Yeah, let's—"
But as I stepped back, my water bottle slipped from the side pocket of my bag, tumbling to the ground with a loud clatter against a root. The noise cut through the chanting like a knife.
One of the figures turned, their hooded face piercing the fog. Eyes glinted in the dim light, locking onto me.
"Amy, run!" I hissed, shoving her ahead.
We bolted, hearts hammering, but the fog disoriented us.
Behind, the chanting grew frantic, rising to a fever pitch. Then, without warning, a brilliant blue light erupted from the ground at the circle's center. It shot straight up like a pillar of ethereal fire, piercing the clouds and bathing the woods in an otherworldly glow. The air hummed with energy, pulling at my clothes, my hair—pulling at me.
The light was blinding, searing into my eyes.
"Amy!" I screamed, but my voice was drowned out. I felt an invisible force yanking me backward, toward the circle. My feet left the ground, and everything went black.
When consciousness trickled back, it came in fragments: cold stone beneath me, the echo of dripping water, darkness so thick it pressed against my skin like a shroud. I groaned, pushing myself up, my body feeling... wrong. Heavy. Unfamiliar.
"Where...?" I mumbled, my voice deeper than it should be, rougher.
I stumbled forward, hands outstretched, colliding with walls on every side. It was a chamber, sealed tight—no doors, no windows, just endless stone. Panic surged as I spun around, searching for an exit.
And then, in the faint glow seeping from cracks in the ceiling,I saw me.
Standing there, across the small space, was my own face. My dark hair, my clothes, my wide brown eyes staring back at me. But it wasn't a mirror. It was real. Flesh and blood.
I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat in a raw, guttural roar. "What the—?!"
The figure—me—tilted its head, a slow, sinister smirk curling my lips. It wasn't my smile; it was something darker, predatory. A low chuckle escaped, echoing off the walls like a devil's whisper.
"You..." I stammered, backing away until my back hit the wall. My hands flew to my chest, feeling unfamiliar contours—broader shoulders, coarser fabric. I looked down: a long red apron draped over a muscular frame, hands calloused and large, hair cropped short. A man's body. His body.
"No, no, this isn't happening!" I shouted, my new voice booming unnaturally. I lunged forward, grabbing the figure's arms—my arms. "Who are you? What is this?!"
The smirk widened into a full, mocking laugh.
"Oh, little girl," he said, his voice—my voice—dripping with deliberate slowness, each word laced with amusement. "You're stuck here with me. No way out. Not for you, anyway."
Tears stung my eyes, hot and furious. "Where am I? Who the hell are you? And how—how do you have my body?!"
He pulled away effortlessly, sauntering a step back with a grace that wasn't mine. "We swapped, darling. Simple as that. I'm in yours... and you're in mine." His tone was gentle, almost soothing, but utterly unbothered, like explaining the weather to a child.
My brain reeled, refusing to process. "Swapped? That's impossible! Bodies don't just—how? Why? Give it back!"
Silence. He just stared, that infernal smirk never fading.
"Tell me everything!" I demanded, my fists clenching. "How do I get my body back? What's your name? Answer me!"
Still nothing. He crossed his arms—my arms—and leaned against the wall, watching me unravel.
Frustration boiled over.
"If you don't tell me, I'll...
I'll damage this body! Your body! I'll shave my head bald, rip it apart—whatever it takes!"
He threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that chilled me to the core. "Go ahead," he drawled, eyes gleaming with malice. "Whatever you do to mine... I'll do to yours. Tit for tat, Unabi. Imagine what fun I could have."
"No!" I screamed, lunging again. "Don't you dare touch my body! Don't you dare!"
He sidestepped easily, that laugh echoing again. Defeated, I sank to the floor, knees hitting the cold stone. My mind raced: Who were those people in the woods? A cult? Demons? My mum must be frantic by now, calling the police, my brother pacing the living room. And Amy—did she make it out? Or was she...?
As despair settled in, a low hum vibrated through the chamber. The air grew thicker, charged with that same blue energy from before. The figure's eyes—my eyes—began to glow faintly, irises shifting to an unnatural crimson. "You see," he whispered, leaning close, his breath hot against my ear, "those chanters? They weren't sealing just anything. They were summoning me. And you, poor soul, stumbled into the rift. Now, your essence fuels my freedom. But don't worry... we'll have eternity to play."
The walls shimmered, revealing faint, writhing shadows beyond—demonic forms clawing at the barrier, hungry for release. And in that moment, I realized: this wasn't just a swap. It was the beginning of something infernal, a pact unbroken, with my soul as the key. What happened next would shatter worlds... or devour mine whole.