Bonnie Lawrence had always believed that she was destined for one thing: to be forgotten.
When a demon attempts to murder her for this very reason-she starts to resent that statement.
And the two men that saved her may just have the answers to her...
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In every single horror movie that Bonnie had ever watched, she shouted at the idiot who was stupid enough to walk head first into danger. That character annoyed her the most. Not the ones who were naïve or disbelieving and ended up dead because they didn't take it seriously, but the ones who knew the danger, heard something spooky, and continued to walk straight into the trap set for them.
And yet here she was. Doing the exact same thing.
The tunnel was as horrifying as she'd imagined it to be. Coated with cobwebs and roots that slid along the floor, she tried not to picture the creatures living in it. Especially when it appeared to have been sealed for many, many years. Either that or somehow rock grew speedily.
As she made her way down, the echo of her footsteps gave a hint to how long it actually was. She turned back to the entrance, glaring at the figures who still stood outside, the bright sunlight bathing their silhouettes.
"This isn't far enough?" she asked, hope lingering in her words.
"Obviously not! Keep going—chicken!"
"I'm going to murder him," she muttered to herself as she turned back around, imagining black hair between her fingers as she ripped it out of his sarcastic head. "I wonder what it takes to kill a daemon."
Turning her torch back to the path in front of her, Bonnie tried not to pay too much attention to the scurrying of small bugs that she could undoubtedly see at her feet. As long as spiders didn't start dropping from the ceiling, she could stay calm. They couldn't hurt her.
"But something else definitely could," she whispered, wanting to laugh at how absurd it was that she was concerned about creepy crawlies when they'd informed her that a literal daemon lived down here. Or wait—a demon? Had they actually told her what exactly Bifrons was? "Of course they haven't, why would they give me a straight answer for anything, I'm just a measly human."
Bonnie looked back over her shoulder, judging how far away the boys were. Surely the metres between them were enough now. But by the looks of it, they still hadn't moved.
"Right, then. On we go."
If she had been told a mere forty-eight hours ago that she would be in the highlands of Scotland, in a cave leading to a house where a daemon lived, hoping to lure him out, Bonnie would have laughed. But here she was, slowly becoming engulfed by darkness that felt as though it stretched for miles. And for what? Because other worldly creatures had asked her to? If that was the case then she truly needed to have a word with herself about people pleasing.
Slowly, a smell so foul that it made her stomach recoil swept over her, making her gag. The lingering scent of death was undeniable, and she now knew why exactly Gremory had complained about being able to smell. It reminded her of the stench of the demon that had attacked her at the cafe—like a fungus slowly spreading over your senses.
