For a moment, I didn’t belong anywhere. I felt neither fear, nor joy, nor anger. But then reality forced its way through, and I awoke to a forest soaked in the cold air of winter.

  I was lying on my back, surrounded by hundreds of trees. They stretched high above me until their branches blended with the pale morning sky. I tried to move, and a few patches of grass brushed against my face. They were green and red, smelling faintly of tree sap and iron.

  My clothes were wet, and I was freezing. Every muscle in my body shivered uncontrollably. My heart pounded fiercely, as if it were trying to remind me of something, and I wanted to ask it why everything felt so wrong, to understand. Instead, my head began to throb, and I could taste blood.

  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember anything—not where I was from, or even my name. All I felt was an overwhelming sense of urgency, though I couldn’t comprehend why.

  Tiny droplets of water fell from the tree leaves and landed on my face. I closed my eyes and licked the moisture from my lips; it tasted like dirt and rain.

  My heart kept racing, and soon my head followed. Slowly, a few memories emerged from the fog in my mind. I remembered the pain at the back of my neck and the ensuing darkness. Then reality struck me like thunder.

  I opened my eyes again and tried to stand, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the wet, slippery grass. If I couldn’t stand, the idea of walking seemed ridiculous. Still, I tried anyway, only to fall once more.

  Breathing had been easy until that moment, but now my mind was consumed with panic, and I could barely inhale enough air to keep from fainting. I dragged my body through the mud and grass until my back rested against a tree. That’s when I noticed my clothes were different. I was wearing a sleeveless, dark gray dress, similar to a nightgown, that barely covered half of my legs. Wet leaves and moss clung to my skin, and something small crawled over my bare toes.Where am I?

  What happened?

  I tried to stand again but failed and decided instead to calm myself down. Don’t be scared, I thought. Breathe and try to think. Don’t panic.

  But then I saw movement a few meters ahead of me, and my heart began to pound harder, every beat hammering mercilessly in my head.

  “I didn’t know you could do that,” said a blond boy in a white shirt and dark trousers. He looked so clean and nonchalant that, for a moment, I thought I was dreaming. Then I watched him drag his index finger from his left eye to his cheek. I copied his motion and realized I was crying. I hadn’t even noticed.

  “Seriously, what is that even for?” he asked, hiding his hands behind his back. The gesture might have seemed harmless, but I didn’t know what he could be hiding.

  I wanted to cover myself with anything I could find, but fear kept me frozen. I didn’t know where I was or why I was here. For all I knew, he could be one of the people who drugged me back at the market. Why else would both of us be in the middle of nowhere?

  Everything is fine, don’t be scared, I tried to convince myself, but the taste of blood lingered, and pain shot through various parts of my body. Deep red drops stained the grass, and my head throbbed. I couldn’t even remember how it had happened. Every muscle in my body urged me to get away, but I remained paralyzed.

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  “Do you even fear death?” he asked in a cold, icy voice, and my entire body tensed. “Aren’t you going to answer me?” He stepped closer, and I noticed his deep blue eyes, bright even in the dim morning light. I wondered if those eyes would be the last thing I’d ever see.

  He took another step closer, and I scrambled to my feet, my legs shaking under my weight.

  “What do you want?” I asked, my voice weak and trembling. I cursed myself for sounding so fragile.

  “I’m just here to do my job,” he shrugged. “I’m here to kill a demon.” His eyes traveled up and down my body in such an invasive way that it felt like a physical touch. I pressed harder against the tree, wishing it could somehow protect me. He was so close now that I could smell him—a nauseating mixture of soap and blood.

  “Well, I’m not a demon,” I said, trying—and failing—not to sound scared. My thoughts were muddled, and I struggled to speak. Something was definitely very wrong with me.“Well,” he said mockingly, “I don’t need you to confess. I already know what you are.” He shot me a smile that made my stomach churn. Was he out of his mind? I was starting to think so.

  “You’re mistaken,” I spat. “So leave me alone!” I yelled, but he only smirked. My knees were barely holding me up, but I refused to sit back down, no matter how badly I needed to. I was ready to run the moment I had a chance, even if my shaky legs couldn’t carry me far.

  “They always tell me I shouldn’t talk to your kind, but I’m intrigued. I can’t help it. I want to know before we continue,” he said. I tried hard to clear my mind and calm down, but my senses were dulled, and I still couldn’t think straight. I had to have been drugged. But with what? And how long would it take to wear off? I prayed it would happen soon.

  “I know you feel pain—I’m well aware of that—but how did you learn to cry? You have no soul, so where does that come from?” he asked.

  I gaped at him, unable to find words. He sounded more unhinged with every passing second, and I had no idea how to handle him—how to handle any of this.

  After what felt like the longest moment, I inhaled deeply and forced myself to speak. “I already told you. You’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m not what you think I am.” My voice was pleading, my arms pressed behind me, fingers gripping the rough bark of the tree. But his expression didn’t change. His eyes were vacant, devoid of anything I could understand.

  Then, something—or someone—made a noise behind him, and he turned his head.

  I barely had time to act before his hands were around my throat. I never saw him move, never felt the air shift from his approach—he moved like a ghost.

  I clawed at his hands, trying to pry his fingers open, but his grip was unyielding. He wasn’t just trying to choke me—the pressure was too much for that. He was trying to break my neck.

  A wave of helplessness and rage flooded through me. I kicked at his legs, scratched at his arms and face, but he didn’t let go. He only smiled.

  Pain pulsed through my head. My lungs screamed for air. My vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges.

  This isn’t happening.

  I can’t leave my parents alone.

  All I could think about was how unfair it all was.

  Then—his grip loosened. His expression shifted from amusement to surprise, and in the next moment, we both collapsed to the ground. I didn’t care what had happened—I only knew I had to get away. Gasping, I dragged myself backward, desperate to put distance between us. That’s when I saw the blood. A great amount of it, pouring from his back.

  Someone had just attacked him.