After a sudden rise in death tolls in the city of Albira draws the attention of a deadly force, Brianna Rae has to figure out a way to stop the line of murders, before the demons arrive and the entire place crumbles to the ground.
To do this, she mu...
Brianna Rae: charming entrepreneur by day, other-worldly healer by night. Well, no humans knew about the latter, and she intended to keep it that way. The hidden creatures lurking in the shadows of her world like ghosts were bound to her in the name of an undying pledge, one that blended the lines of right and wrong.
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She wandered along the riverbanks of Albira, the thriving city situated in one of the most prosperous yet death-ridden empires in the world - Ignis. The very word summoned unwelcomed flames of fear to escalate along one's shivering spine, allowing it to wholly live up to the Latin word it was unsparingly stolen from: fire.
Craning her neck to look at the looming skyscraper above her, she felt unnerved at the silent yet unbelievably possible threat it whispered in her ear; a soft murmur of a promised demise if she were to ever tell a single soul of the ordeals that took place there. Somehow, even with all these warnings that had been given, she still couldn't quite understand how she could feel all this anger, this dread, at an inanimate object of all things. She helped create this, helped build this monstrosity, then indirectly gave it permission to wreak havoc upon Earth.
For the building lazily perched in front of her, seemingly innocent and calm, was a hospital. A hospital for the cruel and wicked, for the murderers, for the thieves, for the supernatural. Every beast living on this plane of reality would eventually visit this hospital with the guarantee of recovery on their side. Posing as a reliable blood donor organisation made a perfect excuse for the litres of blood regularly spilt on its floors. Still, there were some creatures who despised this haven, so, every couple of days, the owner would be gifted with seas of unidentifiable, crippled corpses, as a rebellion of some sort.
That "owner" of the building was Brianna. Inheriting and taking over her parents' business at the ripe age of 13, she constantly struggled between her own morals and the company's survival. She had never agreed with the idea of helping paranormal criminals in the hopes of respecting an age-old tradition, one that was fabricated when the world was still "good".
She was running out of options quickly. Soon, she wouldn't be able to hide the prominent disdain on her face every time she treated a patient who had procured wounds after an "attack", when they had really received a cut or two from their vulnerable victims.
Brianna never wanted to step out of the warmth of her comfort zone, but she couldn't pretend to be blind to the surge in deaths, she couldn't act as if she was asleep when they were awake, she couldn't act as if life was alright. Naturally, there was only one thing left to do.
How could she stop the murderers from murdering, the thieves from thieving and the liars from lying? It was simple, really.
