a crack in everything

By the time he was nineteen, Briar had been in more uncomfortable situations than he cared to think about. Only two, however, had been as uncomfortable as being locked in a cemetery with what was almost certainly a demon.

In his defence, the whole "locked in" part had been an accident. At least once a fortnight, Briar visited his mother's grave. It gave him both time and privacy to relax and gather his thoughts, commodities hard to come by since Nikolai's Turning five months ago. Today, however, the combination of warm sunshine, late nights, and the peaceful atmosphere of the cemetery had resulted in him dozing off against the headstone. He had only woken when his phone buzzed with an inquiry from Caron, the sky streaked with quickly-fading oranges and purples. As it was, leaning against a headstone with an aching neck and an unwanted companion, he half-regretted waking up.

The demon seemed unaware of his presence. It lurked among the rows at the head of the field, an unnaturally tall, stooped figure in tattered, fluttering garments. Every so often it bent to inspect a headstone or flower arrangement. The distance and lack of light obscured its features, but the long, beak-like protrusion on its face, as well as the misshapen back, its fingers – abnormally long and spindly, with far too many joints, visible even from his position – and the general aura of otherworldly despair implied that that was most likely a good thing.

Carefully keeping his gaze averted, Briar did his best to ignore it as he checked his phone was on silent. Demons were primarily embodiments of humanity's negative emotions, contrary to their depictions in modern pop culture as evil spirits or hellish tormentors. Despite their popularity, though, few could sense their presence, let alone actually see them. The ones who could were almost always part of the supernatural community, and they mostly knew better than to attract their attention. Either way, it would be better to avoid its notice, and a ringing phone would undoubtedly draw interest. Ignorance was bliss when it came to demons. They might generally leave the Sightless alone, but there were always those who didn't.

Moving as little as possible, he hastily texted Sebastian. Nikolai and Catina were out on business, and while Caron may have contacted him first, Sebastian was the only one with a working car. He also had the advantage of being able to walk under the sun, no matter how faint it was.

Evac @ bot cemetery ASAP

After a few seconds, he added, demon pls hurry.

A response popped up almost as soon as he pressed send. OMG OMW ;A;

He switched the screen off, then stilled. It could have been the sudden silence. It could have been the realisation that he couldn't see the demon anymore. It could have been the chill puff of rancid breath through his hair. It could have been the beak-like shadow reflected in his phone screen. It could have been the six-fingered grip on his shoulder, the many-jointed appendages wrapping around his upper arm, sharp pricks of pain indicating that yes, those were talons. It was almost certainly the awareness of the demon was standing directly behind him, only his mother's headstone between them.

Briar figured this was as good a time as any to temporarily lift his mental ban on swearing.

The demon's voice was softer than he expected, barely above a whisper. It hissed through the air, clicking in the back of its throat and whistling on the exhale. "You see me."

Ignorance was bliss, except for when it's not. Briar bit the inside of his cheek and privately started composing his eulogy. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. It was very distracting.

The demon shifted. The ragged edge of its clothing brushed against the back of his neck. Something small and squirming fell to hang, trapped, between his collar and his skin. A shudder rippled down his spine.