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Chapter 2 - I'll Take 'Ignorance and Death' for 500, Please

"What am I? I'm the guy whose idiot friend Jake needed a wingman."

My heart hammered against my ribs hard enough to hurt. "I'm the guy who spent three hours listening to wannabe YouTubers talk about EMF readers and cold spots and other bullshit. I'm just a guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time because his friend wanted to get laid! That's what I am!"

The furnace of purple energy pressing against my skin retreated. Not much. Just enough that I could breathe without feeling like my lungs were being crushed.

Amelia tilted her head, causing her white hair to cascade over her shoulder.

"An interesting narrative. You say you were with your friend, Jake Mendoza. The ghost hunter."

She made air quotes around 'ghost hunter' without using her hands, just with her tone.

"Tell me about it. Start from the beginning." She popped the rest of the takoyaki in her mouth.

Okay. If I could just explain, walk her through the mundane reality of last night, she'd see there was no way I could've done this.

I was just Rome. Regular guy. Construction worker. College student. Nothing special.

"Fine. Okay." I swallowed hard. "It started at Java Junction. That shitty coffee shop on Fifth Street."

===

The smell hit me first when I walked in. Sugar and burnt coffee beans, the signature scent of every overpriced "local" cafe that wanted to pretend that they weren't Starbucks.

Jake was already there, saying something ecstatically at a corner table. He'd actually dressed up in a button-down shirt that still had creases from the package.

I was just surprised I didn't see a price tag sticking out.

Three girls sat across from him. The leader was obvious immediately. Mid-twenties, intense eyes, hair pulled back in a messy bun. She had that true believer energy rolling off her in waves.

"Rome! Dude, you made it!" Jake's relief was palpable. He'd been drowning in estrogen and paranormal theory for at least twenty minutes. "This is Chloe, she runs 'Spectral Seekers.' And that's Madison and Bree."

Madison looked bored, her fingers dancing across a laptop covered in paranormal investigation stickers. Bree kept gasping softly every few seconds in her own little workd.

"So you're the muscle?" Chloe's eyes raked over me.

"I'm the friend who has to work at six AM," I corrected, sliding into the booth next to Jake. "What's this about?"

"It's about the Riverside Plant." Chloe leaned forward. "We've been tracking spiritual energy fluctuations in that area for weeks. And for some reason, last night's readings were off the charts in that specific area."

Madison turned her laptop around. Graphs and squiggly lines that could've meant anything danced across the screen.

"EMF spikes at 11:47 PM. Temperature drops of fifteen degrees. Multiple EVP recordings." She tapped the screen. "Something big is happening there."

Bree gasped again. "I can feel it. Even from here. The veil is so thin there."

I gave Jake a sideways glance. He gave me his trademark puppydog expression.

"It'll be fun," he said weakly.

"You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means." I muttered back.

===

"See?" I looked at Amelia. "Normal, boring shit. No demons. J

Amelia's expression hadn't changed. She finished her takoyaki, set the empty container aside. It landed on what I now realized was a small table covered in files. My files, probably.

"Riveting," she said dryly. "And when you arrived at the warehouse? Describe the moment you walked inside."

Of course! We walked into the plant, the girls had their equipment and started setting up. Jake was trying to look useful to Chloe. It was all—

The memory fractured.

I opened my mouth to answer and instead of words, my head filled with static. Not the visual kind. The kind you feel when you touch a live wire. The buzzing on my skin exploded into a roar that made my teeth ache.

The warehouse door. Heavy metal. Jake pulled it open and...

A growl. Low and guttural, vibrating through the floor and up through my bones. Not from any single direction. Everywhere. Nowhere.

No. That's wrong. There wasn't—

That's not what happened. The warehouse was empty. Just dust and—

Rage.

I jerked back so hard the chair scraped against concrete. I shook my head from side to side trying to erase that image from my memory.

"I..." My voice cracked. "I don't remember. It's fuzzy."

Amelia straightened. She crossed her arms, which did interesting things to her figure that my brain absolutely should not have been cataloging in this moment.

"Fuzzy," she repeated.

"You... this has to be a prank." The words came out higher than I wanted. Desperate. "Jake put you up to this. You must have drugged me for the video, that's it!" I tried to laugh. "What the hell did you give me? Some new designer shit? Because I am feeling very not sober right now."

"A drug that leaves a demonic signature capable of being tracked by the Four Great Clans?" Her voice was soft. Conversational. Like we were discussing the weather. "A prank that leaves three humans as hollowed-out husks?"

She shook her head. White hair caught the dim light like fresh snow under moonlight.

"Your friend isn't that creative, Rome."

The chair groaned as I strained against the zip ties. My wrists burned. The plastic cut deeper, and I welcomed the pain. It was real. Concrete. Something I could understand.

"Then what? What the hell happened to me?"

Amelia moved. One moment she was three feet away, the next she was leaning over me again. The temperature around her felt wrong. Not hot or cold. Just dense, like gravity itself was heavier in her immediate vicinity.

"Your mind built a wall to protect you." Her breath smelled like takoyaki sauce. Sweet and savory. Completely at odds with the horror she was describing. "It's showing you a coffee shop, a bad date, a story you can live with."

Her eyes filled my vision. Twelve petals rotating in perfect synchronization. Purple light pulsed in time with my heartbeat.

"Because it knows you aren't strong enough to see what really happened in that warehouse."

My pulse thundered in my ears. What the hell was she saying?

"You have your story." Amelia's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I have the truth."

She paused. Let the silence build until it felt like physical pressure.

"Would you like me to fill in the blanks for you?"

"No." The answer came automatically. Instinct. Self-preservation.

"No?" One perfect eyebrow arched. "You'd rather continue believing in fuzzy memories and convenient gaps? Rather cling to your version where you're just an innocent bystander?"

"Yes! Yeah, that's exactly what I want!" My voice cracked. "Because the alternative is that I'm some kind of monster who killed three people and doesn't even remember doing it!"

"Monster is such a loaded term, darling." Amelia straightened, giving me space to breathe. "Demon, shaman, hybrid. These are just labels for phenomena you don't understand yet."

She walked in a slow circle around my chair. Her footsteps echoed. Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

"That necklace you wear. The seal. Do you know what it's suppressing?"

"No."

"Do you want to?"

"No!"

"Liar."

The word hit like a slap. Because she was right. Some sick, curious part of me did want to know. Wanted to understand why I'd never fit anywhere. Why weird shit followed me. Why I felt different in ways I couldn't articulate.

"I see the hunger in your eyes," Amelia continued from behind me. "The same hunger I saw in that warehouse. You're starving for answers, Rome. For truth. For connection." Her hands landed on my shoulders. The contact sent lightning through my nervous system. "For power."

"I don't want power. I want a normal life."

"And how's that working out for you?" Her fingers squeezed. Not painful. Almost comforting, which made it worse. "Fourteen foster homes. Constant rejection. Always on the outside looking in. That's not a life. That's survival."

I hated that she was right. Hated the way her words sliced through my defenses like they were tissue paper.

"What do you want from me?" My voice came out small. Defeated.

"Right now?" She walked back around to face me. "I want to know if you're worth saving."

"What?"

"You're either a threat that needs to be eliminated, or a student who needs to be trained." She pulled over a second chair, spun it around, straddled it like we were just having a casual chat. "The evidence suggests you drained three people of their life force using an ability no human should possess. By all rights, I should execute you right now."

My stomach dropped into my boots.

"But." She held up one finger. The nail was painted deep purple. "Your reaction suggests genuine ignorance. Your memories are suppressed, not fabricated. And that seal..." Her eyes tracked down to my chest where the obsidian pendant hung hidden under my shirt. "That seal is old magic. The kind that requires both power and intent."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning someone cared enough about you to lock away something dangerous." Her eyes met mine again. "The question is: are you the danger, or is it what's locked inside you?"

I wanted to throw up. My entire worldview was crumbling, replaced by something I couldn't process.

"Let me tell you what happened," Amelia offered.

"And if I say no?"

"Then I kill you, dispose of the body, and move on with my day."

"You're actually serious."

"Always am when it comes to potential threats, darling." She leaned forward on the chair back. "So what's it going to be? Ignorance and death, or truth and the chance to live?"

My mouth went dry. Every fiber of my being screamed to reject this. To cling to my safe, mundane version of events. To die not knowing what I really was.

But I'd never been good at taking the safe option.

"Please, show me the truth." I whispered.

Amelia's smile sent a shiver down my spine.

"Good boy."

She stood, walked to the light switch I hadn't noticed. Her hand hovered over it.

"Fair warning, Rome. Once you see this, you can't unsee it. Your comfortable delusions will shatter. The normal life you wanted? It never existed."

"Just do it."

"As you wish."

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