BLEEDING HEART | ONC 2024

05 - HER

"Stranger?" he says, peering up at me with his soulless but sexy eyes, gesturing at the seat across from him. "But why does it feel like I know you?"

Sweet talker. He knows how to woo with words. He weaves his comments into his sultry voice and infuses it with enough cockiness to keep me interested.

My brain wants to resist him, but my body obeys. I sit, crossing one leg over the other, leaning forward to press my breasts to the table.

He sneaks a glance, and I contain a smirk of satisfaction. If he wants to play, I'll play right back—and win.

"You're certainly comfortable for someone who isn't from here," I say, attempting another peek at his heart.

Blank.

Now that I sit closer, I perceive something radiating around it. A glow like the one I sensed around his body, but...dark. A grayish tint that gives off ominous vibrations.

He's wearing leather. Leather trousers, and a leather jerkin over his tight-fitting shirt. It's a fabric that's more on the richer side. Most Hazelvale inhabitants refrain from wearing it, keeping it for trade or as a treasured, expensive possession.

This further proves to me he isn't from around here. He'd have been wearing the same lower-grade materials as everyone else.

I angle deeper into the table, cocking my head, puckering my lips as I return to his face—

A pulse of something strong hits me as our gazes connect. I grip the table and grit my teeth, keeping my balance so he won't be suspicious; but I don't like what I felt.

It's malicious but masked under his hotness. It shot out from him, from his heart, something within him. A pulse...of evil.

Evil? I never feel evil, not in a long time. There should be no evil to detect. The only evil beings in Exivaria are...

Demons.

Shit.

I bite my tongue. Saying it would make it true, and I can't accept that. Not until I'm positive.

I drown in his eyes, pretending to listen to him recount some tale of how he's been exploring the town and enjoying it.

Oh, he's enjoying it, all right. Enjoying spreading his poison, his evil, all over my happy town.

That's what I've been feeling these past few days. The frisson of foreign energy that keeps tickling at me; it's not a tickle, it's a scratch. A gnarly gash that won't heal. A plague.

It'll make me bleed if I'm not careful.

"...many restaurants in this place, but I can't decide which specialty is my favorite." He clears his throat. "They all taste so delicious."

I nod for him to continue.

A demon in Hazelvale.

It's impossible, yet I can't mistake that negative energy around his heart for anything else. It's flickering, infesting my nostrils—rotten and sweet, alluring and deadly.

Demons were banished eons ago. Their king sought to topple Exivaria's cautious balance, tip us into war and bloodshed. The goddesses used all their strength and talents to lock the awful creature and his creations under-ground.

I've heard of demons escaping their confinement, but on other continents; not in Tavalon. Usually, they're not around long enough to provoke any permanent damage. Angels aren't equipped to fight them, but the goddesses should sense this type of threat immediately and fix it.