Her red hair swayed, like blood-streaked silk, as she stood in the heart of the abyss, swallowed whole by an endless void.
The cuts on her body had vanished.
The wounds should've throbbed with unbearable agony. They should've bled, should've wept for release. But when she lifted her arm, her skin was smooth. Perfect. Her breath caught in her throat, and a cold shiver crawled down her spine. This wasn't right. Something was horribly wrong.
The darkness stretched around her, infinite and suffocating, broken only by the faint, flickering light of a single candle, perched atop an empty chair.
'Where the hell am I?'
Her yellow eyes darted across the empty void, searching for meaning in the nothingness. But there was nothing. Just the candle. Just the chair.
The silence pressed in, thick and oppressive, wrapping around her like a vice.
Her eyes narrowed, searching for something, anything... Anything that might explain this. But it was just the void. And the candle. And the chair.
A distant, agonizing chill curled through her bones. Her fingers twitched, digging her nails into her palm until it stung, until it almost bled. A scowl flickered across her face, then quickly turned into a twisted smirk.
"If this is a game…" Her voice was low, a brittle whisper laced with bitterness. "…then fine. I'll play."
She took a step forward. One. Two. Three. Each movement slower, heavier, as if the darkness itself was trying to drag her back.
She stopped before the candle, its weak, flickering light casting a grotesque, contorted shadow behind her. Long and twisted, more menacing than the void itself.
Her hand trembled as it reached for the flame, fingers brushing against the air, as if the very space around her recoiled from her touch. And in that moment, the world snapped into focus.
The ground beneath her solidified into rotten wood, warped and brittle, crackling with each phantom step she took. The walls distorted and melted, like wax caught in an infernal fire, shifting and warping grotesquely, turning into something unrecognizable.
And then...
She was there.
A woman, standing by an open window, swaying like a fragile puppet caught in the wind.
A soft, brown dress clung to her, frayed at the edges. Long, dark hair fell in heavy waves, the strands like ropes of silk, tangled with despair.
Her face was smooth, expressionless- unnaturally so.
A rope, cruel and unyielding, draped around her neck.
Ayeka's breath hitched in her throat. Her nails dug deeper into her palm until the flesh broke. A whisper, chilling and familiar, slithered through her mind.
'...Mother.'
A sharp, jagged pain lanced through her skull.
She turned away. Forced herself to look away. Forced herself to smile, though it was empty-hollow, like a mask made of broken glass.
She couldn't change the past. She wouldn't.
A tear traced down her ashen cheek.
Then, a voice... Raw, guttural, full of unspoken venom... Ripped through the stillness.
"Zenbu. Sociopathic b*tch. You could've saved me."
Her body froze.
Behind her, the corpse twitched. Its jaw cracked open with a sickening, unnatural creak, flies swarming from its rotting lips, buzzing like insects of death.
The room erupted into flames, the fire scorching the walls with hunger, clawing at the air as if it wanted to consume her very soul.
Ayeka's teeth ground together.
"Shut up," she spat, voice trembling. "You're dead. Just go away." Her throat closed, but she forced the words out. "I'm Ayeka now."
The voice slithered, dripping with cruel amusement, with hatred that rotted from the core.
"The name of your dead friend… how pathetic."
Her heart pounded in her chest, the abyss around her pressing harder, colder, suffocating her from all sides.
"She should've lived. Not me. Now… shut the hell up."
The corpse jerked violently, its limbs snapping and contorting like a broken marionette. Its head lolled to the side with a sickening crack, and then, slowly... Its lips curled into a grotesque, twisted smile.
It wasn't human. Not even close.
The smile stretched wider, the skin splitting at the edges like fragile parchment, the crack of unseen hinges echoing through the suffocating dark.
"Foolish girl. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Ever since you learned Spirit Magic… this voice, these whispers, you craved it. You wanted to hear it more than anything."
The corpse withered, shriveling like decaying meat left in the sun. The limbs shrank, the bones realigned, the skin softened... Until a child stood before her.
A child. Pale, fragile. A handmade flower necklace rested against their tiny chest, its petals withered, darkened, like the remnants of a forgotten dream.
Half of her face was burnt. Rotting. Charred. Lifeless.
Pain slammed through Ayeka's skull, suffocating her thoughts.
"Shut up. SHUT UP! I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU ANYMORE! YOU'RE DEAD!"
Her vision blurred, but the abyss tightened around her, colder, darker, more suffocating than ever.
"...There's nothing more I can do."
The voice twisted, thick and vile, slithering through her veins.
"You know that's a lie. This is why you became a demon hunter. Kill him. Feed the artifact."
The fire crackled louder, the room twisting and warping. The darkness clawed at her, pulling at her very soul.
Then, the voice softened- its tone shifting into something melodic, something impossibly familiar. A sound that made Ayeka's heart wither and crack beneath its weight.
"I'll be waiting."
And just like that, the void dissolved into static, erasing Ayeka, leaving only an echo of her screams, swallowed by the everlating nothingness.
'Sociopathic B*tch.'
…Stop it.
'Sociopathic B*tch.'
No more. Please.
'Sociopathic B*tch.'
"…Shut up!"
Ayeka gasped—her hands lunged forward before her mind could catch up.
Warmth. Skin. A throat beneath her fingers.
Reality slammed back into her skull as red eyes stared back at her, half-lidded and unimpressed.
Her messy red hair fell into her face.
The cuts on her arm stung.
The first thing she saw was a familiar, irritating smile. Red eyes. Flowing black hair.
"…Crazy bastard..?"
"Finally awake. I thought you were dead."
She felt dead inside.
Slowly, she scanned her surroundings. The forest was gone, replaced by jagged, rocky walls. The distant echo of dripping water filled the silence.
The cave was cold. The air damp, thick with the scent of moss and wet stone.
Shadows stretched long across the uneven walls, flickering as dim firelight fought to hold back the dark. Somewhere, the rhythmic drip of water echoed into the cavern's yawning emptiness.
The ground beneath her was rough—packed dirt, scattered pebbles digging into her skin. Stalactites jutted from the ceiling like ancient fangs, slick with moisture, gleaming faintly.
No sign of an exit. Just stone. Just darkness.
A fitting place for a waking nightmare.
"Now… would you let go of my throat?"
Ayeka blinked, snapping back to the present.
She was gripping Crazy's throat.
"Oh. Whoops…" She sighed, her voice a dangerous calm. "…No. I need some stress relief."
Her fingers tightened, squeezing until she felt his pulse slow, but her mind wandered deeper into the shadows. The whispers came again. Faint, yet hungry.
Still, Crazy didn't move.
Ayeka raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing. "…Aren't you going to complain?"
Crazy sighed, an empty sound. "No. I was the one who cut you up, anyway."
She glanced down at her arms—gaping wounds still healing, their dark edges crumbling with blackened energy. The pain gnawed at her, but that was nothing. Not compared to what was stirring inside her now.
"How did you know?"
"Because I'm the only one awesome enough to do it."
"I hate you."
"I hate you more."
"..."
"Also, this kind of feels… good."
Ayeka's jaw clenched, and she let go with an irritated hiss. "What the hell? You masochistic bastard."
She shoved away, but the effort sent sharp waves of pain from her torn flesh. A small yelp escaped, but she forced herself to swallow it. Focus. Deep breaths, but every breath felt heavier. She was trying to see if she had any spirit essense left. Calm down. Calm-
"…You know, I think you look better with messy hair."
A vein popped on her forehead. She glared at him like he was the embodiment of her frustrations.
"…Would you please shut up? I'm trying to heal myself, you idiot."
"No."
Immediate reply. Ayeka gritted her teeth.
"Ah… Somebody shoot me."
Crazy's eyes widened. "...Shoot? I didn't know there were guns in this world."
"No, with a crossbow, you idiot. What the hell is a kuns, anyway?"
"Oh. Nothing."
Ayeka sighed, feeling a spark of irritation ignite in her chest. That tone. The one that always made her feel like she was missing something.
"…Why are we here, anyway? In this depressing cave?"
Crazy's face shifted, a brief flicker of something dark crossing his expression. "Ah. People kept shooting me with glowing arrows whenever I tried to go towards the houses and walls. It was annoying."
Of course. The Aura he was radiating was enough to rival an Arch-Demon. The outposts around the forest wouldn't just let him stroll into their property without expecting mass destruction. She closed her eyes as she tried to ignore the giant pool of darkness and bloodlust radiating from him.
Yet... Somehow, she sensed a holy spell. A faint flicker of the disgusting aura of light.
That's when Ayeka noticed the glowing holy arrow stuck deep in Crazy's side.
"…What the hell? Hey, you crazy bastard, there's an arrow stuck in your side."
"…I know."
"…What?"
Ayeka stared at him, and then her eyes widened. She wasn't sure if it was rage or something darker, but she felt her magic flare.
Crazy just stood there, his face an emotionless mask.
She sighed. "Ah, hell. Whatever. You demons are built different."
"Hey, I told you I'm not a demon."
A voice, faint but unmistakable, whispered in the back of her mind. It was colder than before.
…Kill him.
She slammed a bruised hand against her head, the pain reverberating through her skull. "Shut up."
"What?"
"Nothing."
The silence that followed was suffocating, and Ayeka hated how much she longed for it to end.
"…Alright. Where's the exit?"
Crazy smiled. "There isn't one."
"What?"
"I caved the entrance in."
Ayeka blinked, disbelief twisting her features. "... You... What?"
"…So nobody attacks us."
"…F*ck."
"I could open it again."
"No. You'll just make the cave collapse."
Ayeka closed her eyes, exhaling, centering herself. There was only one way out of this hellhole. She would have to go deep- too deep. But it was the only way.
The yellow light flared in her hand, but it was no longer soft, no longer pure. It was molten, a sickly glow that seethed with hunger. The magic curled around her fingers like something alive.
"You're an idiot, you know that?"
Her voice broke her own concentration, jagged and sharp, but it did nothing to stop the magic from swelling inside her. It was too late. The whispers were louder now, scratching at her mind like they had nails instead of voices.
"I've been told." He leaned against the wall, uncaring, even as the holy arrow dug deeper into his skin.
And then, she heard them.
The souls.
The souls that were never truly at rest.
'…Help me.'
'I want to live.'
'Free me.'
'Cold.'
'Pain.'
'My wife needs me.'
'Hurt.'
That was odd. Why were there so many spirits in a simple cave?
But Ayeka didn't complain. In fact, she resisted the urge to smile. Convenient.
Their voices clawed at her, echoing from around the collapsed cave. Demanding release, wailing into the silence of her thoughts. She could feel their agony, their desperation, seeping through her veins, their pain feeding her.
And yet, she didn't flinch. She was used to this.
Slowly, her hand extended, her fingers trembling only slightly as the magic wrapped tighter around her like a tightening noose. With a sickening lurch, the spirits surged toward her, their tortured souls scraping through the air, drawn to her like moths to a flame.
Their wails died out as they merged with her essence, their screams fading into the blackened energy now pulsing through her veins.
Her wounds began to heal... But not in the way they should. The flesh knit together, but the edges were stained black, veins of darkness snaking up her arms as her body absorbed the souls. Too many souls. She could feel their whispers burrowing deeper inside her, their suffering a weight she could no longer ignore.
She felt completed.
And then- silence.
Crazy stared at her, perplexed, as the air grew heavier with the unnatural energy around them.
"The hell are you doing?"
"You wouldn't understand." Her voice was low, almost cold, but there was something else there now- something darker. She could feel the hunger, the need.
Now, it was time to leave.
Her arm itched. Every fiber of her being screamed to point it at him, to feed the artifact, to end the game here and now.
But she knew better. She wasn't done yet.
"…Alright, you crazy bastard," she said, a smile stretching across her lips. "Let's get the hell out of here."