My eyes widen.

  “No… seriously, why are you here?”

  “Well, I realized something in the middle of playing video games.”

  “Video games?”

  “Yes. I got curious about why humans are so attached to them, so I bought a TV for you. But in exchange, I used the power outlets from your place.”

  “You know you can’t just decide that…”

  “And it didn’t work out, so I threw it out the window.”

  “At least tell me the window was open…”

  “No.”

  Before I can process this, my aunt’s voice cuts through. “Ely, who is it?”

  Panic rises in my chest. How do I explain having another guy here?

  I turn to Azazel. “Get out, move, or hide!”

  His face is blank with confusion, but it’s too late. My aunt steps in and sees him.

  “Oh? Hello, young man. Do you need something?”

  Azazel, completely unfazed, responds, “I am Elene’s brother.”

  I almost collapse in my own sweat. That’s a lie—and worse, my aunt is sharp enough to notice.

  She raises an eyebrow, turning to me. “No, little Ely. Who is he really?”

  Desperate, I blurt out, “He’s… my roommate. My gay roommate.” I cough” I mean he lives next to my apartment, my neighbor.”

  “Oh…” My aunt eyes him up and down. “Yeah, he does look gay. In fact, I also thought your boyfriend swings both ways.”

  “Aunt!”

  She shrugs. “Well, gray-haired man, if you’re her friend, you must be from the capital. So why did you lie? And more importantly, why did you come all this way?”

  Azazel analyzes the situation, his expression calm. Then, with a sigh, he speaks.

  “I broke up with my boyfriend, and I really needed to talk to someone before doing something I’d regret. My heart hurts, and I want to hurt myself.”

  His voice is flat, emotionless. His act isn’t perfect, but his body language gives nothing away. If I were a stranger, I wouldn’t believe him.

  My aunt studies him, searching for cracks in his story. But Azazel looks so utterly average that there’s nothing to latch onto. Mocking his situation would only make her look bad.

  “Oh… love problems.” She exhales. “I understand. Fine, come in.”

  Just like that, she forgets her earlier questions, placing the victim’s feelings first.

  And somehow, I now think she’s the real victim here.

  “You don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, do you, boy? It’s just that I don’t have any more rooms,” my aunt says.

  “Of course not. Since I was a kid, I worked in the fields, slept on the floor, and ate bugs to survive. Sleeping on a sofa is a luxury.”

  This time, his voice carries just enough emotion to soften my aunt’s heart.

  “Wow, that takes me back. My mom used to make me work from six in the morning to eight at night, not a single penny in return. Bad memories, but working as a kid teaches you valuable lessons.”

  They’re in sync. Even though Azazel is lying through his teeth, it’s like he can read her perfectly. This is the first time I’ve seen someone match my aunt in a conversation.

  With some tea in hand, they continue talking—or rather, Azazel keeps lying, and the worst part is, he’s flawless at it. I can tell my aunt is subtly throwing in a few tricky questions, trying to poke holes in his story, but he remembers every single detail he’s made up. She’s getting frustrated. Her relaxed tone turns sharp—not because she’s suspicious, but because she isn’t having fun anymore. She likes teasing people, and Azazel isn’t giving her any weak points to attack.

  “So, Azazel, right? Your story sounds… incredible, I should say. But why are you really here? I doubt it’s just because you broke up with your boyfriend. If that were the case, you’d be in bed crying.”

  There it is. Logic. She throws the question like a dagger, and I wonder if Azazel saw this coming.

  “You’re right, Aunt—”

  “Don’t call me Aunt. It’s Chi—” She smiles, annoyed.

  “Sorry, Ms. Chi.” He smirks like he’s testing her patience.

  “Like I was saying, you’re right. I should be in bed, but I’m not that kind of person. My strong will keeps me standing. And honestly, my desire to gossip with Elysia is stronger.”

  Before I can react, Azazel casually puts an arm around me.

  “Besides, even though my heart aches, I can still enjoy life… and what is better than spending it with the wrong person, right?”

  I pinch Azazel’s ear.

  “What he means, Aunt, is that his heart is breaking into pieces and he needs counseling.”

  “But—”

  Before she can stop us, I drag Azazel outside.

  Once we’re alone, I cross my arms. “Now, spit it out. Why are you really here?”

  “I was playing video games—”

  “Cut that part out. Get to the point.”

  Azazel sighs dramatically. “Don’t talk to me in that tone, young lady.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  He even mimics my aunt’s posture perfectly, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow in mock authority.

  I chuckle despite myself. “No fair. You look dumb doing that.”

  “Relax, it’s not that serious. It’s just that a sect has their operations here.”

  “Ahh, a sect. Yeah, nothing serious at all—”

  “...”

  “Wait. What did you just say?”

  “A sect.”

  “Like… the kind that sacrifices people to—”

  “Yep. Exactly.”

  “...”

  “...”

  “Where are they?”

  Azazel looks surprised. “You don’t even look scared.”

  I smirk. “How can I be scared when I have Violet with me?”

  I raise my hand, summoning the red fog like a well-trained attack dog.

  Azazel narrows his eyes. “A tiger, even when trained, is still a tiger, Elysia. Don’t always put your trust in that thing.”

  “I know.” I wave my hand, dissipating the fog. “So… where are they?”

  Azazel shrugs. “To be honest, I don’t know exactly. I can’t summon my magic TV right now. But I can make a call.”

  “Ah… sure. Call them.”

  A few minutes pass. Azazel listens carefully, nodding thoughtfully for once. His usual smugness fades, replaced by something more serious.

  “So?” I press.

  “I know where they are.”

  “Great. Let’s go.” I turn, ready to move, but Azazel doesn’t follow.

  “I can’t.”

  “Huh?” I stop in my tracks, staring at him. “What do you mean you can’t?”

  “I just came to tell you about it.” He crosses his arms. “But helping you stop them? That’s an entirely different topic.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

  Azazel sighs. “Because this sect is part of my contribution to Hell. Helping you would be... bad for business.”

  “Your people?”

  “Yeah. Sects are a part of what I receive. If I help you take them down, I’d be hurting my own operations. And besides—why do you even care? They haven’t done anything to you.”

  I glare at him. “What do you mean? They summoned a spirit onto this farm! That’s dangerous.”

  Azazel raises an eyebrow. “I don’t see any injured people.”

  “Because the cows were mutilated instead!”

  He shrugs. “Yeah, well, an angry spirit isn’t exactly going to go around giving hugs to its food, now is it? Look, my advice? Don’t do anything reckless when they haven’t even done anything yet.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. You’re too impatient sometimes. You want to go after them just because they’re a sect? Damn, and here I thought I was the primitive one.”

  “Then why do you come here if they are not going to do me something, that is stupid. Telling that they are harmless?”

  “I never said harmless. I said they haven’t done anything yet so is better to avoid this farm while you can, you shouldn’t push your luck.”

  “Don’t even start with that!” I snap. “I’ve seen news reports of sects sacrificing people for fun. That’s evil. I have to stop them”

  Azazel tilts his head. “They do it for many reasons, Elysia. But that doesn’t mean you should go charging into a group of armed cultists in the middle of the night. Use those brain cells of yours.”

  I don’t answer. Instead, I summon Violet’s red mist, grab Azazel by the chest, and lift him off the ground. His eyes widen as he gulps.

  “Now,” I say, voice firm. “You’re coming with me. And you’re telling me the path.”

  Azazel swallows hard. “...Fine. But I’m not doing anything else.”

  As we walk, Azazel explains his reasoning for being here.

  “So let me get this straight,” I say, rubbing my temples. “After rage-quitting your video game, you suddenly remembered where I was headed. Then, because you were bored, you conveniently recalled that a sect of yours operates near my destination. So, you traveled six hours just to warn me… but you won’t actually help me?”

  “Yes. Well, not exactly in my name, but hey, low-level demon tributes are mine either way”

  I sigh. “So, you left just because you didn’t want to be home alone?”

  “Pretty much. Elene wasn’t there to bother, so I figured, why not take a little trip?”

  Before I can respond, a chilling howl echoes through the night. It’s the same sound I heard the other night—only now, it’s louder.

  “That… is the Chupacabra,” Azazel says.

  “The chupa-what?” I frown.

  “You’ve never heard of the Chupacabra?”

  “No. Is it a spirit?”

  “No, it’s a living creature. A flesh-and-blood monster. A basic monster we hand out to loyal followers. Kind of like a… reward for their hard work.”

  “You’re telling me you give these things to sects like Christmas puppies?”

  “Not always a Chupacabra, but yeah. So, watch out.”

  I can feel it now—something is circling us at an insane speed. It’s like a motorcycle revving around in tight loops. My eyes struggle to keep up.

  “Violet, be ready,” I whisper.

  Azazel casually adds, “Just be careful. If that thing gets you by the neck, it’s game over.”

  “And you’re just going to say that like it’s nothing? You won’t even help me if I’m about to die?”

  “Sorry, that’s just how it is. I told you not to come here, but you insisted. Besides, let’s be real—Violet could shred that thing into pieces.” He sighs, crossing his arms. “You do realize that with that fog, you’re technically at the top of the food chain, right? Why are you so scared?”

  I shiver slightly, not just from fear, but from the cold night air. “I’m still human, Azazel… with or without Violet, I can still feel afraid.”

  He smirks. “Yeah. But don’t cling to me”

  “I am not clinging, I’m just checking your back pulse, that’s all…”

  Before I can say more, the creature appears—disgusting as hell. It’s about half my height but long and as wide as a full-grown wolf. Its blood-red eyes gleam menacingly, its body almost hairless, and that long, tube-like mouth makes my stomach churn.

  “Such a cutie, don’t you think?” Azazel says with a smirk.

  “What—” I nearly gag at the sight.

  The stench is even worse—like rotten eggs and blood mixed with garbage left out in the sun.

  The creature lunges at me. Azazel doesn’t move—he just watches. But before it can get close, Violet reacts. A single, devastating punch sends the beast flying. She grabs its body midair and slams it into the ground with a sickening crunch. Then, without hesitation, she pounds it repeatedly, each blow turning the chupacabra into nothing more than a splattered mess. Blood sprays across my clothes—some even lands on my lips.

  “Ah…” I freeze in disgust.

  “See?” Azazel gestures at the mess. “You’re at the top of the food chain. That thing was as violent as a grizzly bear and as strong as two prime white wolves, yet you crushed it like nothing. You’re amazing.”

  “Why…” I mutter, wiping my face in horror.

  “You wanted to come here,” he shrugs. “So keep going.”

  We press forward. The sensation of blood sticking to my clothes, the overpowering smell—it’s unbearable.

  “Is there a special reason you’re so determined to deal with this?” Azazel asks. “You’re no hero.”

  “Shut up,” I snap. “I just can’t leave them here while my aunt lives nearby. And the rest of the townspeople… like Buck and her cousin.”

  “I thought you hated your aunt.”

  “Well, not exactly hate… almost there. But leaving them at the mercy of these freaks won’t solve my family problems.”

  Up ahead, I spot an abandoned building.

  “Is this the place?”

  “Yes”

  Without hesitation, I step inside.

  And—of course—there’s no light.

  "I'm telling you, this is a bad idea," Azazel mutters.

  "Why? You said I'm at the top of the food chain."

  "Let me rephrase that—you’re a glass cannon."

  I roll my eyes. Typical. Azazel doesn’t even bother with a remark—he just leaves me there, alone and retreats. Great. I try to move quietly, but the shattered glass on the floor is making that impossible. Each step crunches like a death sentence. Regret is setting in fast.

  What am I even supposed to do?

  "Scare them off," I mumble to myself.

  Yeah. That’s the plan. I'll tell them I killed their creepy creature, and they’ll run off in fear. Easy.

  I spot a flickering light deeper in the building—not quite a steady glow, more like an eerie flare. The glass disappears underfoot, but the darkness thickens, pressing against me. My neck prickles with that unmistakable run-now sensation.

  Step.

  Step.

  Step.

  I trail along a path of dim lamps on the walls, my heartbeat keeping pace with my cautious footsteps. Then, I hear them—voices. Murmurs, whispers, growing louder as I creep closer.

  And then I see them.

  About twenty people in dark robes, swaying in a synchronized dance around a giant star symbol on the floor. The stench of blood and decay fills the air, making my stomach turn. I gag, then—yep, nope—I full-on throw up.

  The retching noise echoes.

  The chanting stops.

  Silence.

  I wipe my mouth, lift my head… and make direct eye contact with twenty absolutely stunned cultists. They’re more shocked than I am.

  "...Hello?" I offer weakly.

  One guy snaps out of it, grabs a weird-looking knife, and charges straight at me.

  Violet reacts first.

  With a flick of my hand, the guy is sent flying across the room like a poorly thrown ragdoll. He crashes into the wall and groans, definitely alive but I don’t think his health insurance would be able to cover all that.

  The rest of the cultists gape at me. Mouths hanging open.

  Then, as one, they drop to their knees.

  "The Chosen One is here!"

  Wait.

  I blink. "Uh. The what now?"

  They bow deeper.

  "We have awaited your arrival, O Great One!"

  Oh no. Oh no, no, no. This is not good.