Lucas didn't know why, but the air in the room suddenly dropped as if someone had opened a window straight into a snowstorm.
A sharp chill crawled up his back, and his fingers trembled before he could stop them.
There were no windows here or the sound of wind at all but still, the temperature kept dropping.
He shook his head. He was a man of logic. He didn't believe in ghosts, demons, or anything his patients claimed to see.
"Alright. You're my last patient for morning rounds, so I'll listen to your story after this. Deal?"
He wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Layla's arm. She leaned in close, her breath brushing his cheek. He held his own, silently praying this part would end quickly.
"You do know you're handsome, right, Lucas?" she whispered.
Her fingers brushed his forehead, lifting his bangs. "Cut this hair a little and you'll be perfect."
He forced a laugh and kept his eyes on the monitor. Normal blood pressure, good. He pulled a thermometer from his pocket, pressed it against her temple, and waited. The digital beep showed twenty-four degrees Celsius.
Too cold for a human but normal for her.
"Alright. Time for your medicine."
Lucas placed the pills in her hand and fetched a chilled water bottle from her mini cooler.
Layla was allowed a few comforts since she had no history of self-harm and never attacked any staff or tried to run away from her room in the past six months, though her parents insisted she be placed in isolation anyway.
They feared she would escape or hurt someone.
Layla swallowed the pills and handed the bottle back. Lucas let out a quiet breath of relief, then sat across from her.
"Okay. You can tell me your dream now."
She didn't start speaking. Instead, she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling lightly.
"Why aren't you sitting beside me? This story is too secretive. I want you close. Right here." Her smile held a hint of seduction, enough to bring heat to his cheeks.
But he straightened. "This chair is fine, Layla."
She frowned, crossed her arms, but began anyway.
"I dreamed about this place back when it was still an old jail," she said softly. "I saw someone calling a demon for revenge, consumed by rage after being imprisoned unjustly. She was a witch."
Lucas kept his smile polite, though something heavy settled in his stomach.
"Then the demon appeared. It worked. The sacrifice was one hundred sinful souls. I saw all of it."
Layla leaned closer, her voice dropping into a low hum. "Hunger. Thirst. Fury was so strong they couldn't control it."
Her eyes gleamed with unsettling pleasure.
"They started eating the other inmates. Alive. Bit by bit. The whole jail drowned in screams and chewing and blood. It was like a celebration of madness."
Lucas's breath caught. Her tone didn't match her words. Her expression was ecstatic, her emerald eyes glimmering like she enjoyed every detail.
"When they finally escaped their cells, they tore the guards apart and feasted on them too. Laughing and screaming like children at a festival."
Lucas swallowed hard. The room felt even colder.
"In the middle of it all, a circle of fire appeared. Some of the cannibals combusted into ash, like their bodies couldn't contain the demon's presence anymore." Layla's breathing quickened, her body shaking with excitement.
"Then I saw her. The beautiful demon. Asmodei stepped out of the flames, free from the gate of hell."
Lucas forced himself not to step back. Her story matched rumors he had once read in a news archive about this building.
Reports of possessions, attacks, and strange phenomena such as spontaneous human combustion.
No mention of cannibalism, though.
Realizing this makes him shiver. Something behind him felt… wrong. Like someone watched him from the corner of the room.
He stood too quickly. "Well, that was quite the story. Very imaginative. Full of charm. Lovely nightmare, really."
Layla stared at him, confused. "Nightmare? I told you it's precognition. And a good one. I failed to call Molok, but maybe I can summon Asmodei here instead."
Lucas pressed his lips together and reached for the door. This girl wasted all her beauty on madness. If she were normal, half the city would fall at her feet. Even he wouldn't be immune.
But she was strange and now straight up creepy.
Before he could step away, Layla caught his wrist and yanked him back. He stumbled onto the edge of her bed as she leaned in until her breath brushed his cheek.
"Why don't you help me, Lucas? You know a man's seed holds a tremendous amount of life. It's one of the purest mana sources."
Her fingers slid boldly to his crotch. The sudden touch sent a jolt through his body, sharp and instinctive.
"If you help me, Asmodei will grant you one wish, even give you a grimoire. Anything you want." She tugged at his waistband while Lucas tried to push her hands away.
"Layla, stop! What are you doing? Get a hold of yourself." He tried to pull his pants back up, but her strength surprised him.
She stripped them down to his ankles in one swift movement, leaving only his thin underwear between him and humiliation.
"And you are still a virgin. That makes it perfect for a soul bond." Her grin stretched, wild and triumphant.
"Think about it. You could get revenge on your pathetic family. That lecherous doctor Alan, his spoiled daughter, and your precious stepmother."
Her voice dropped to a hiss. "Especially your stepmother, the one who killed your parents. You still don't know, do you?"
Lucas froze. His hands stopped fighting. His breath stilled. "What are you talking about? My mother killed my father and herself. How could she be involved?"
Layla clicked her tongue with mock pity. "So innocent. Poor Lucas, raised by the woman who murdered your parents and treated you like a servant."
Her laughter burst out sharp and cruel, pushing something inside him past its limit.
His jaw clenched and he grabbed her shirt, fists shaking. "Shut up. Don't mock me. You are lying. You are insane. Stop talking!"
His voice cracked with raw anger, louder than he meant, louder than he had ever allowed himself to be.
Layla went silent. Her grin, however, stretched wider, almost delighted.
Lucas dropped her, eyes wide, breath breaking into uneven gasps. "I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
She tilted her head, studying him with eerie calm. "It feels good to let it out, doesn't it?" Her tone softened, almost coaxing.
"You learned in school what happens to people who bury their anger. Illness, madness, delusions. You don't want to end up like me, right?"
He shook his head slowly. The room felt colder by the second.
Her hand slid across his chest as she leaned in to smell him, her breath gliding from the curve of his neck to the shell of his ear.
"Then work with me." Her voice slipped into a whisper. "Let me regain the mana I lost. And you will gain the strength to destroy everyone who hurt you."
Her tongue traced a slow line across his neck. "All you need to do is sleep with me. It isn't that difficult, is it?"