A thick mist curled through the dimly lit streets, weaving between the cobblestones like ghostly fingers. The air carried the scent of damp earth and distant rain, sending an involuntary shiver down Evelyn's spine. She tugged the hood of her jacket closer, bracing against the bitter chill that gnawed at her exposed skin. The town was unnervingly silent, save for the distant hoot of an owl and the rhythmic sound of her footsteps against the cold pavement.
The church loomed ahead, its doors slightly ajar, inviting her into its shadowed embrace. Like always, it was open—offering sanctuary to those who sought solace, or perhaps, something more sinister.
She stepped inside, her breath misting in the icy air as the heavy wooden doors creaked shut behind her. The soft glow of flickering candles illuminated the worn pews, casting restless shadows across the stone walls. Evelyn's eyes swept across the nearly empty space before they landed on a lone figure seated at the far end of the church.
The woman wore a long black dress, its fabric pooling around her like a void swallowing the light. A hat sat low on her head, casting most of her face in shadow, while a simple mask covered the lower half—nothing like Cora's intricate one, but rather the kind that ordinary people wore. Yet, there was nothing ordinary about her.
Evelyn's pulse quickened as she cautiously approached.
"I almost thought you wouldn't come," the woman whispered, her voice low, almost reverent.
Evelyn hesitated before lowering herself onto the pew, deliberately leaving space between them. Her instincts screamed that she was walking straight into something she didn't understand, yet curiosity rooted her in place.
"Who are you?" Evelyn asked, her voice steady despite the unease curling in her gut. "And why are you helping Cora?"
The woman's gaze flickered toward Evelyn, her eyes unreadable. A long pause stretched between them before she finally answered.
"Who I am or what I am isn't important." Her voice held an eerie calmness, as if she had lived lifetimes beyond this moment. "What matters is that Cora is in danger."
Evelyn's fingers curled into fists on her lap.
"Danger from what?"
Instead of answering, the woman extended a gloved hand, revealing a small vial filled with a murky, thick liquid. It sloshed sluggishly inside the glass, its dark hue reminiscent of ink diluted with blood.
"Give this to her," the woman murmured. "She must take it before her nineteenth birthday."
Evelyn's frown deepened as she eyed the vial with suspicion. A metallic scent tickled her nose, sharp and unnatural.
"No." She folded her arms, meeting the woman's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I don't know what you're protecting her from, but if you're her mother, you should give it to her yourself. And I'm not handing over something that looks this… disturbing."
A flicker of irritation crossed the woman's features before her expression smoothed into something unreadable.
"I wasn't asking," she said softly, her tone carrying the weight of an unspoken threat. "She must take it."
Evelyn stiffened, her mind racing. The woman's attire—her hat, her gloves—everything about her reeked of another time, as if she had stepped out of an era long forgotten. The way she spoke, the way she carried herself... Evelyn wasn't sure what she was dealing with.
She pushed herself up from the pew.
"If you aren't her mother, then I don't see why I should listen to you." She turned on her heel, prepared to leave. "If it's that important, give it to her yourself."
She barely took two steps before a gloved hand clamped around her wrist. The grip was deceptively gentle, yet something about it sent ice racing down Evelyn's spine. The pressure coiled around her like a serpent, squeezing just enough to make her pause.
"Take it while I'm still asking," the woman murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but carrying the weight of steel. "Cora is my priority, and I won't let you be the reason she falls into harm's way. And tell her—" she pressed the vial into Evelyn's palm "—to stay away from the man she arrived with."
Evelyn wrenched her wrist free, taking a shaky breath before she stormed out of the church. The woman didn't stop her. Instead, she turned toward the pulpit, lowering herself into a prayerful stance.
Evelyn cast one last glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the night.
On the Rooftop
A gust of wind howled through the rooftop as Damien landed with effortless grace, his silhouette sharp against the night sky. The creature standing before him jerked its head at an unnatural angle, the bones in its neck grinding together with a sickening squeak.
Damien clicked his tongue. "I would've mistaken you for an angel of death—if you weren't so spectacularly ugly."
The creature let out an annoyed groan, its clawed fingers twitching as it took a step forward. But then its eyes locked onto Damien's face, recognition flashing through its grotesque features.
"Damien," it rasped.
A slow, smug smile stretched across Damien's lips. "I know I'm breathtaking, but must you stare like that? Makes a man feel almost bashful."
The creature lunged, clearly unimpressed by Damien's charm. But Damien was faster.
With a flick of his wrist, he dodged the strike, the creature's bony claws narrowly missing his face. The next attack came swifter, its elongated nails slicing through the air toward his throat.
Damien sighed. Predictable.
He pivoted, driving his knee into the creature's gut. It faltered, hissing in pain, but Damien wasn't finished. In one fluid motion, he pulled out the gun holstered at his waist and fired.
The creature let out a shriek before combusting into a pile of ash. The scent of burnt flesh filled the air, acrid and unmistakable. Damien crouched, dipping his fingers into the remains, rubbing the ashy substance between his fingertips.
A Grogwly.
His smirk faded slightly. What the hell was a Grogwly doing here?
Back Inside, Cora sat anxiously on the couch, her fingers curled around the fabric of her sleeves as she waited. When Damien appeared, her breath hitched.
"What was it?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Damien dusted off his hands, his smirk returning. "Nothing too exciting. Just an underworld reject that clearly lacked manners."
Cora paled. "A Night Creature?"
"Grogwly," he corrected. "Nasty little things. They can only enter this world through dark magic rituals performed by witches powerful enough to defy death itself."
Her stomach twisted. "Do you think it came for me?"
Damien leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze darkened, amusement laced with something unreadable.
"It seems you have a habit of attracting all the wrong kinds of attention, little bird." He chuckled, the sound low and rich.
Footsteps approached, and Cora's eyes widened. "My mother's coming."
"I suppose we should pretend to be asleep?" she whispered, stepping toward the stairs.
Damien caught her wrist before she could take another step. "Or we could just leave unless, of course, you're eager to serve detention."
Before she could respond, the door swung open. Evelyn stepped inside, her gaze flickering between them. Damien greeted her with a lazy, knowing smile.
"You're awake?" she asked arching her brows , did the substance not work ?.
Damien's smirk deepened. "We've decided to return, future mother-in-law."
Evelyn's expression hardened. "It's too late for travel, it's midnight"
Damien arched a brow. "Oh, but there's a ship waiting. Convenient, isn't it?"
Evelyn glared .
Cora frowned. "Where did you go?"
Evelyn hesitated. "To the church. To pray."
Damien tsked, shaking his head. "Midnight prayers in this weather? How pious of you."
Evelyn shot him a glare before turning to Cora. "Take care, and call when you arrive and stay away from him ". She murmured the last part but Damien heard it clearly.
Damien bowed dramatically. "I promise, mother-in-law, not a single scratch on your precious daughter."
Evelyn gritted her teeth. Damien grinned.
She has decided not give the substance the woman had given her to Cora . Even though she didn't know what Cora was being protected from sometimes it's better to let somethings happen on their way own.
As they stepped into the cold night, Cora glanced at him noticing they continued to walk for a while .
"Aren't you teleporting us back?"
Damien let out a sharp laugh, flashing his fangs. "Not yet. I'm starving."
Cora tensed, "When was the last time you drank blood?.
"Three days ago " Damien answerd flashing her a smile with his fangs in sight .