Survival of the Demoness (drop)

Chapter 1 - The Chicken Spirit Appears

After sending out thirteen resumes with no responses, Tu Ran had reached her breaking point. The rejection stung so much that she gave up on herself entirely.

That mid-morning, after an all-nighter spent binge-watching TV shows, she ordered takeout and cracked open a can of beer. This would mark the beginning of her downward spiral.

She knocked back three cans, then collapsed onto the carpet. The weight of her self-destructive choices hit her as she lay there, overcome with guilt.

"Oh heavens, grant me a job!" she yelled, frustration boiling over. But as the words left her mouth, she immediately felt ridiculous, kicking an empty can aside in embarrassment. Rolling over, she fell into a deep sleep on the plush carpet.

In her half-conscious state, something caught her eye—a bird's beak, barely two centimeters from her face. It was long, gray-white, and curved downward sharply.

Her first thought was of fried chicken.

"I should order some fried chicken... lunch will be... fried chicken..." she mumbled to herself, her mind already drifting back into slumber.

The softness of the carpet felt slightly uncomfortable, but she managed to sink deeper into her dream.

But then, something disrupted her rest.

"Scratch... tear... rip..."

The noise was jarring, too loud to ignore. It felt like someone was tearing at her skin. Her stomach, oddly cold, gave her pause.

That shouldn't be, she thought, groggily. Her apartment had heating, and she was still wearing her pajamas.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she instantly froze in terror. What she saw sent a cold sweat breaking out across her skin.

An enormous chicken head, absurdly oversized, was bent over her exposed belly, pecking at her with focused intensity. A strip of cloth dangled from its sharp, hook-like beak. As the bird turned its head, the cloth flew through the air and landed on her face.

Tu Ran's senses snapped into full alert. The cold temperature against her skin confirmed her worst fear: her belly was bare, and the bird's next strike would surely land there.

Through the cloth, she glimpsed the bird's sharp, bamboo-like beak raised for another deadly strike, its neck curving in preparation for a lethal plunge.

Without thinking, Tu Ran rolled away, her body moving on pure instinct. Dust flew up behind her, accompanied by the sound of something striking the ground with the force of a hammer.

She had narrowly avoided being skewered like a candied hawthorn on a stick.

The agility of her reflexes stunned her—her once frail body, which had struggled through university fitness tests, now felt light and capable.

She didn't spare a glance behind her. Her legs propelled her forward, and as she ran, she dug her nails into her palms, as if trying to wake herself from a nightmare.

"Tu Ran! Wake up!" she mentally screamed. "If you don't wake up, you're going to be eaten!"

Her heart pounded as she sprinted, but despite her frantic pace, the bird was closing in fast. A gust of wind cut through the air, and an eerie cry—like a baby's wail—pierced the silence behind her. The sound, chilling and unnatural, made her spine stiffen in fear.

The bird was getting closer.

She dared a glance ahead and saw only an impossibly steep, barren mountain peak, with no cover in sight. There was nowhere to hide.

With a whoosh, the monster bird shot past her, casting a massive shadow that enveloped her body. It landed just ahead of her, kicking up a cloud of dust that momentarily blinded her.

Tu Ran skidded to a halt, her breath caught in her throat. This dream, if it could even be called that, felt far too real. The creature before her was no mere oversized chicken spirit.

It had the form of a giant falcon—glossy black wings and a muscular, wild body—but its head sprouted long, blade-like horns, resembling a rhino's.

She had never experienced a dream so vivid.

The creature stared back at her, its piercing gaze full of confusion. It seemed to wonder why its prey had suddenly come to life and managed to escape its grasp.

For a split second, their eyes locked.

And then, without hesitation, Tu Ran turned and ran.