She woke up lying in the basement—inside a chalk-drawn circle that hadn't been there before. Her head throbbed. Her arms refused to move.
Panic crept up her spine.
Her voice cracked."Mom... Anna... I want to go home..."
The shadows closed in.
"You think it's that easy?" Roven sneered, his voice curling like smoke. "Do you even know what we want from you?"
Levy's eyes welled up. "Tell me. I'll do it. I'll do anything."
The air turned ice cold.
Without warning, something hit her chest like a train. Her back arched. She screamed.
A soul—no, a thousand shattered pieces of something once human—invaded her.
Her mouth gaped but no sound came out. Her hands clawed at her throat. Her body convulsed like a puppet yanked by frayed strings.
Then silence.
She blacked out.
She woke up the next morning on the floor, soaked in sweat, clothes ripped. Her body—bruised, bleeding, broken.
Scars clawed across her arms. Wounds throbbed with no memory of how she got them.
She sobbed as she patched herself with whatever she found. Her hands shook. Her lips trembled.
Still, she climbed to the terrace.
She waved at passing strangers, screamed for help.
But when they saw her—a bloodied girl on the roof of an abandoned house—they didn't stop. They ran.
That night, something tugged at her blanket.
She jolted awake.
"It's time."
That voice.
Then—black eyes. Soulless. Possessed.
She wasn't Levy anymore.
She slammed her head into the wall. Over and over. She laughed—shrill, violent, inhuman.
The front gate creaked open.
The next moment, she stood outside her family's house. Somehow, she was there.
She knocked.
Her little brother opened the door, beaming. "Levy! Oh my God—you're back!"
She tilted her head. Stared at him.
He laughed nervously. "Still trying to scare us, huh?"
She didn't laugh back.
She grabbed a metal rod.Crack.His skull split open.
Screams from inside.
Anna ran to the door, froze. "Wha—Levy?"
Stab.Stab.She drove the rod into her sister's chest. Blood splattered her face.
She dropped the rod. Picked up an axe.
Their mother ran. Levy caught her by the hair and dragged her outside.
Screams echoed down the street—but the night swallowed them whole.
She tore limbs like paper. Skinned flesh like fruit. Her father tried to fight back, but she caved in his ribs with a garden stone.
It was carnage. It was art. It was Roven's will.
She laughed like a broken wind-up doll until she collapsed.
When she woke up the next morning…
She was back in her house.
In her bed.
Sunlight streamed through the window. Birds chirped.
Was it over?
She smiled.
Until she saw her bloodstained hands.
Until she saw the axe.
Until she turned—and saw them.
Her family.
Mutilated. Twisted. Unrecognizable.
Dead.
Her lips parted. Her breath froze.She screamed.
And then—footsteps behind her.
A whisper close to her ear:
"You did well, Levy. But it's not over."