You dash fearlessly around the corner after the shadow, eager to see the animal before it gets away from you.
In the spray of a street light, you see the thing. Clearly, it is not an animal. But after closer inspection, you know for a fact it could not be human.
This thing... It's tall and looming with a diaphanous robe seeming to be made of the shadows around you. There's no wind to tease the filmy fabrics, and yet they float.
They turn towards you after a moment, slow and almost uninterested. You can't see its face under the heavy hood it wears, but now you can see their thin, pale hands. Each finger is tipped with gleaming nails many inches long; they look like lustrous blades protruding from those lengthy digits.
You stand there, stunned by such a sight.
"You are early..." It rumbles, the agender voice surprisingly soft and human, but edged with something hot like irritation.
"Return in one cycle," it commands, before one pale hand splashes out of the robes and waves across you.
An opaque shadow glides along in trail of the demon's arm before attaching to you, creeping over your skin until you're encompassed by the darkness.
Skip to "(31) Smother a Yawn"
YOU ARE READING
Futile Trials
MaceraThis is a your choice story. But choose carefully, many of these paths will lead to an unfortunate end.
