“Hey there, sunshine!” Theresa scratched an eyebrow the moment she heard Tomoya’s thin voice. He’s still at far distance, she could barely see him yet, but his voice could travel faster than light. She never intended to meet up with him, but the kid is too pushy. Besides, he has the grimoire and the only person that could decipher those hell of a what-not-characters she’s never seen before. As he drew closer, Takumi, who’s just beside him, finally showed up in the picture from her position. He has been covered by the tall, well-trimmed bushes outside the book shop that he had to step closer in order for him to be seen. Theresa’s nose scrunched when she realized she’s been staring at him for more than a minute. She couldn’t blame herself though; Takumi’s indeed a catch. The man came from a wealthy and respected family; thus, he dresses very well, speaks very well just like an educated and extremely intelligent person that he is. His good look’s just a bonus; his love fo
“Hello?! Are you still there? Is your brain experiencing major factory reset?” Theresa gasped when Tomoya waved a hand right on her face. “Have you gone mute as well? My cousin here’s not talking since we met today,” Tomoya chuckled, she could feel his voice vibrating in her eardrums. She eyed him and Takumi who’s standing beside his cousin, eyes pinned on her. She then looked from side to side only to find out that they're still inside the shop. She looked at the clock which hangs on the wall just behind Tomoya. It's ticking. It’s working. God! That was another one. Theresa thought, bitting her lips in horror after a vision flashed in a matter of seconds. It was fast yet full of questionable happenings. She doesn’t understand what’s happening anymore. Her vision’s no longer complementing each other. It’s as though someone’s already altering it as they speak. Her eyes travelled to meet Takumi’s. Could it be that it’s him?
Kathleen stretched her arm inside her purse and dragged her phone up to the table to where Christian’s name flashed, but she didn’t dare to answer his call. It took her a fair amount of time to sink the encounter she had with Mrs. Lada“Aren't you gonna answer the call? That person might have something very important to say.” She turned right to see Christian beaming. He had his phone pressed against his right ear, waiting for her to answer his call. “I’m sorry, I was just about to,” she smiled, forcing herself not to sound sullen.Christian’s expression softens as he walked towards her, slipping his phone inside his pocket. “And you might not,” he sat in front of the table Kathleen occupied, eyes roaming. “I was hoping I’d catch Samantha’s friends here; I think I came too late.” “They didn’t come. What brings you here?” Christian’s brows cocked. “Uhm, to chill? Home’s a bit suffocating, don’t you think? Be
“W-What the hell are you talking about?” Kaiser almost spat his coffee right on Scott’s face. He couldn’t believe what he is hearing and Scott’s smug expression is not helping at all. Seeing that his friend seems to be entirely serious about what he was talking, he placed his cup of coffee down the table, sat straight, and looked at him seriously. “Do you mean those articles that have been spreading around the internet about her is indeed true?” Kaiser sounded more impressed than surprised and Scott is pleased to notice that. “Exactly,” Scott grinned, resting his back against his Riemann Gilt Bronze Chair. A taunting scoff escaped his lips as he taps his temples with an index finger. “I am just surprised because that impertinent Kathleen trusted me. I mean, those bits of information were crucial and I know that she knows I can ruin everything,” he tittered. “Bruh! That’s too heartless,” Kaiser’s lips twit
"Is it just me or this house had gotten ten times over the hill since the last time we're here?" Kaiser muttered the moment Scott and him entered Samantha's empty house. Though everything is still there, unmoved; the couch they used to sit on, the old, wooden center table, where they used to place their snacks while watching movies, the maroon old-fashioned carpet where they usually wrestle—everything—but things felt so empty now; for Scott, at the very least. They had to sneak at the back as tons of media-outlets and even famous media personalities have been lurking outside from time to time, taking pictures of the house. Even though none of Samantha's families and friends took care of the case legally, through social media pressure, the cops continued the investigation. They have already searched Samantha's house, but have found nothing which could be used as evidences. It was already aired in various channels that poltergeists and spiritualists have already been appointed to ch
Scott's steps had gotten faster; he could feel as though there are numbers of eyes pierced on him directly through his soul. At this point, he didn't care where his legs would take him not until to a small degree, he came face to face to an old door—a familiar-looking door. Furrows slowly formed on his forehead when he realized he was approaching the main door of Samantha's house. Now, he's been caught in a loop. He somehow regretted entering the place. He moved right and reached to his back pack which is no longer there. His shoulders dropped. "For the love of Christ," he groaned, scratching his nape in fury. Biting his bottom lip, he moved near the entrance. The most logical volition he has is to enter the house once again. It might be the evil entity that led him to come up to such a decision or his stupidity itself, nothing matters now as the moment he opened the door, an immense stench shook his entire body, freezing him at one pace—there's no turning back. The smell is someh
“He became the mind of an underground organization formed to lure people who possesses the eye of the devil which could open the doors to hell.” Scott halted at the last sentence of the first page. For a brief moment, his mind seems to have crossed a different path, urging his hands to fan the pages towards the latter and what he discovered next froze him at one point when he confirmed his thoughts. “The man now stares at the book to where his life story has been written, failing to notice the creature looming above him…” Scott felt a cold sensation ran through his spine; it was swift that he almost cringed and fall down the chair. His heart started drumming against his chest, loud enough to overpower his senses to escape. He swilled when a black liquid dropped against the aged page; slowly, words emerged. “The creature tore his body into pieces.” Black liquid dropped one after anothe
“What are you doing, really?” Kim giggled, watching Jess recoil in horror just by seeing her holding a knife.“D-Don’t play with me, y-you evil of a w-woman,” Jess yelled. She could have escaped when Kim went to get a knife to peel the apple, but her legs could no longer carry her own body; she’s trembling.“Now that’s too much,” Kim mocked. “Foul words should never come out of a pregnant woman’s mouth. They baby could hear it.” “Yeah? Then I a-appreciate it if you will just leave,” Jess’s voice sounded like she’s about to cry which only amused Kim even more. “Aren’t you appreciating this?” She pointed the apple with the knife. “I’m trying my best to be good here, Jess. Just go along with that before I change my mind.” Jess sucked her lips to stop them from quivering. Maybe, that’s the best thing she could do. It would be a problem if she gets on Kim’s evil side; she might die before Scott or Junel arrives. Seeing that Jess is finally agr
Tomoya leaned back against his car, his arms crossed defensively as though they might shield him from the piercing gaze of the woman standing before him. Dryzza, a force to be reckoned with even on her worst days, stood opposite him, her face pale, her exhaustion evident. Dark shadows framed her eyes, betraying sleepless nights. Yet despite her weariness, her presence held an unyielding authority that made Tomoya’s discomfort intensify. "What?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, though his mind raced. Knowing Rener had already entered this woman’s dreams made him uneasy. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with her—it could derail the delicate events set to unfold later that evening. "You tell me," Dryzza snapped, her tone sharp but laden with fatigue. She paused, as if assessing whether she truly had the energy to deal with him. "What are you doing here?" Tomoya smirked, a feeble attempt to mask his anxiety. Pushing himself off the car slightly, he gestured to his ve
Tomoya dragged himself back home, his mind and body weighted by the events of the night. He didn’t bother dwelling on Jess’s fate if her accomplices realized the grimoire he’d handed her was a forgery. Exhaustion had dulled his senses, and the moral complexities of his choices faded into the background. Reaching his condominium, he allowed the familiar silence to envelop him. He assumed Kathleen was in good hands with Theresa, sparing him one less worry for the night. Collapsing onto the couch, Tomoya felt the day’s tension seep into the room. The empty space around him, although spacious, felt oppressive, as if the walls themselves carried the weight of his secrets. Pulling the grimoire from his coat pocket, he placed it carefully on the table next to his laptop. The book’s presence filled the room with an ominous aura, a silent reminder of his uneasy alliance with Rener. The thought of working with Rener makes his skin crawl. What would Takumi think if he found out? The betr
Tomoya slumped into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel as his mind spiraled. “Now what?” he muttered, his voice a mixture of self-loathing and panic. He replayed the moment he handed the grimoire to Jess, realizing with mounting horror that he had fallen prey to Rener’s manipulations. His fists clenched as frustration overwhelmed him. “You absolute idiot!” he berated himself, his voice echoing in the stillness of the car. “You trusted a demon. A demon! What the hell were you thinking?!” He kicked the floorboard like a petulant child, trying to vent the storm raging inside him. He was still seething when a movement in the rearview mirror caught his eye. “Holy shit!” Tomoya nearly leaped out of his seat as he spotted Rener, lounging in the backseat as if he belonged there. His calm, unbothered demeanor only added fuel to Tomoya’s anger. “You!” he pointed accusingly, his voice trembling with disbelief and fury. Rener’s dark eyes met his through the mirror, a faint smirk p
The hospital cafeteria exuded an almost eerie stillness despite the occasional clatter of cutlery and murmured conversations. Its sterile, fluorescent lighting gave everything a pale glow, and the faint smell of antiseptic mingled with the aroma of cheap coffee. Tomoya sat across from Jess, his body language rigid and unwelcoming. The tension between them was palpable, thick as the silence that had settled around their table. Jess had barely touched her salad, her fork occasionally poking at the lettuce while her gaze remained fixed downward. "How’d it come to you that I would just hand you the grimoire that easily?" Tomoya’s voice cut through the silence, his tone sharp and laden with irritation. His arms were crossed, his posture unyielding. It wasn’t in his nature to entertain vague requests, especially not when they revolved around something as dangerous as Samantha’s grimoire. Jess’s unwillingness to provide any meaningful explanation only fueled his skepticism. Jess shif
“We clearly severed all ties long ago. Why is he still meddling in my affairs?” Takumi's voice was sharp, laced with an unmistakable irritation, as he slammed a hand down onto the round table between them. The sound resonated through the quiet room, highlighting the tension that had hung since Tomoya arrived. After his strange encounter with Rener, Tomoya had come to Takumi without delay to relay the archdemon’s unexpected proposition. Now, sitting across from his cousin, he could see Takumi’s simmering resentment—a bitterness that seemed to have settled within him long ago. Tomoya managed a wry smile. “I’d never know his true intentions,” he replied with a hint of sarcasm, leaning back in his chair. “But, whatever his motives are, we both know he genuinely cared for you once.” His tone softened as he finished, a subtle reminder of the past that even demons cannot erase. Takumi froze, the sarcasm seeping from his own expression, replaced by something harder to decipher. His ga
Rener remained standing, merely raising a hand in polite refusal. “No need,” he said, his voice a low resonance that seemed to echo off the walls. “I’m only here for a little pep talk.” “Pep talk?” Tomoya raised a brow, feigning confusion even as his mind raced, grasping for the direction of the conversation. He knew all too well that Rener rarely appeared without purpose, and his visit now only served to confirm Tomoya’s darkest suspicions. “What for?” he asked, his tone guarded. “And in case you’re here to see Takumi-niisan, he’s out.” Rener shook his head slowly, his expression unchanging. “No,” he replied, his gaze sharp, “I came to speak with you personally.” Tomoya’s guard rose, and he decided to press forward before Rener could steer the conversation further. “If you’re here to convince me to stop nii-san from opening the portal, you’ll be disappointed,” he said, his voice cool but unyielding. “Even if you’ve claimed his heart, his connection with Agatha can neve
In the cool, dim light of the police precinct’s entrance, Tomoya felt his nerves on edge, the weight of his recent discovery bearing down on him. The information he’d unearthed in the police database had made it painfully clear—Jess was no ordinary woman, and her connection to the Takahashi case was undeniable. Though his heart raced with the excitement of finally untangling some of the puzzle, his mind buzzed with the complications this revelation brought. He was drawn here, to this place, by an undeniable urge to confront Jess, yet as he crossed the threshold, he saw no familiar faces among the precinct’s busy, bustling crowd. No sign of Zach, Esmeralda, or anyone else he’d anticipated seeing. It was strange, but he felt a pull towards Dryzza, the detective whose skill had uncovered pivotal elements of the Takahashi case. Her name had popped up so often in his search that he felt almost as though he knew her—though not a face in the precinct was familiar to him. He hadn’t
The afternoon had settled into an unsettling quiet. The wind brushed gently, yet coldly, across the cityscape, weaving through empty alleyways and rustling through bare branches as though whispering secrets. The sky was cast in a muted gray, thick clouds obscuring any hint of sunlight and casting shadows across the streets. Distant sounds, a dog barking, a faint siren, echoed faintly and faded as quickly as they came, amplifying the eerie stillness. It was the kind of day where time seemed to pause, hanging heavy with an inexplicable weight, as if something significant were lurking just beyond the silence. From his vantage point on the hospital rooftop, Tomoya watched Esmeralda and Zach as they departed, their figures gradually disappearing into the distance. They had come, as Tomoya knew they would, to speak to Takumi, hoping he might grant them access to the ruins of the Takahashi manor. But as expected, Takumi had refused, his response curt and his demeanor wary. The weight
The stillness in the office was unsettling. Dryzza, Sai, and Esmeralda sat in their usual places, surrounded by the hum of electronics and the soft, indifferent ticking of the wall clock. Yet, despite the familiarity of the environment, everything felt different. Hours had passed since they had returned from the Takahashi manor, but the enormity of what they had encountered weighed down the room, lingering in the corners of their minds like an unspoken truth. It was already 8 in the morning, and the sunlight now filtered through the blinds, casting sharp shadows across their desks. But the brightness outside stood in stark contrast to the dark, unyielding silence that filled the room. None of them had spoken since their return. The quiet between them wasn’t simply a pause; it was a protective buffer, a space that allowed each to process the profound implications of the night’s events. Dryzza, usually quick to process and act, found herself staring blankly at her desk, the sig