Nightfall
By the time Andrea's employees clocked out, I already knew. I'd overheard them gossiping on the train—praising her for staying late, calling her hardworking. Careless.
Their chatter had given me exactly what I needed—an opportunity.
Fog slithered through Sommerville, thick and unrelenting. People grumbled about it, but they never understood—it wasn't a mere weather phenomenon. It was here to stay.
I stepped into the mist, letting it consume me. It coiled through the ducts of my office building, then beyond.
Ahead stood the Elimination Company—a fortress of ironclad security, wrapped in protocols, and monitored by the best. Sure, you could call it the law enforcement of mystical crimes. Yes, they'd made headway, arresting a rogue mage for abusing his powers to rob a bank. Maybe they even stopped a werewolf from harming civilians in a bar during a full moon. Necessary, perhaps.
But to me, it was just another loose end. A fortress of secrets, a structure to bypass.
The mists bled into the open office space, curling over desks and creeping into corners like ink in water. The glow of monitors flickered behind the veil, dimming as the fog thickened. It started subtle—a chill seeping in. Then, with every step I took, it grew denser, swallowing the office whole.
A single light in the distance. Andrea's office. Perfect.
The fog congealed, darkening into a suffocating smog as I walked forward. At the threshold of her door, I stepped through. The mist parted just enough to reveal piercing grey eyes.
Andrea stiffened, her hand hovering over a sheet of paper, mid-motion.
"How did you get past security?" she demanded, voice sharp, tinged with confusion—and perhaps a hint of unease.
Ah, the game begins.
"Hello, Chief Andrea, leader of the Elimination Company," I greeted, lips curling into a smirk. "Burning the midnight oil, I see."
"It's after office hours, Mr. Gacanagh. If you wanted a meeting, you should've scheduled one."
"But I'm not here as a lawyer." I stepped forward, gaze fixed on hers. "Hence the unannounced visit. We're all so much more than our professions, aren't we?"
I let the words settle before adding with a glint of amusement, "Isn't that right, Banshee?"
She didn't move. Didn't blink.
But I saw it—the flicker in her eyes. The silent calculation.
Lovely.
"What would your team do if they knew?" I murmured, closing the distance. "Would they celebrate you? Or would they be afraid?"
A flicker of hesitation. A breath too slow.
"How… who…?"
"Oh? You're not even trying to deny it?" I chuckled, leaning in just a touch closer. "Interesting."
Her expression hardened. "I wouldn't test me if I were you."
"Why so uptight?" I leaned back against her desk, feigning nonchalance, never breaking eye contact. "Whatever you think you know, you don't," she snapped.
"And what if your staff accidentally chokes on the mists in this office due to a clogged vent?" I shrugged, laughing softly.
Her eyes burned with fury, but she stayed silent.
"There are lines even you don't cross," she said, her words laced with steel.
I raised a brow. "Oh? You know my boundaries now? Is that another banshee ability?"
"I can disorient you with my scream," she warned. "Or shatter every nerve in your skull if I choose."
"And you can foresee deaths," I countered smoothly. "You know who the real threats are. That must be exhausting."
Her arms crossed, a defensive posture. "So you've done your research."
"Wouldn't be wise if I didn't. It's only due respect for the supernatural, like yourself." My grin widened.
Her voice dropped, almost a whisper, but still carrying weight. "I wouldn't threaten me."
"What? A threat?" I teased, my smile deepening. "Such accusations, Banshee."
"What do you want? Surely you didn't come to chit-chat." Her voice was clipped, impatience simmering.
"Do you ever wonder what I'm really up to? Who I'll target next if you don't cooperate? It's such a big organization you've built. So many super agents catching mystical criminals." I let my gaze wander around the room. "Yes, I know there are many gifted agents, but none of them are worthy of my attention. Still, it's fun to watch you tense at my words."
"You will not hurt my agents," she said in a grim tone.
I raised my hands in false surrender. "And if I say I won't, will you believe me?" I mused. "Is it going to be that simple?"
Silence. Thick as the fog around us.
"You're making it very hard not to attack you, Gacanagh," she said coldly.
"Are you actually thinking of using your powers on me? Till what end, Andrea?" I smirked. "I could easily expose you. Do you think you could still be the Chief after that?"
I laughed—a low, easy sound.
"Get to the point, Gacanagh," she hissed.
So I did.
I reached into my coat and pulled out a silver contract, its edges gleaming in the dim light. "I propose something mutually beneficial."
She eyed it warily. Lips tight. Posture rigid.
"Every quarter," I said smoothly, "you'll give me a name. Someone you want… erased." I let the words hang, heavy. "And in exchange, your agents remain untouched."
Her lips parted. No words came.
One name, every quarter. One life in exchange for the others. Her team. Her people. This wasn't a bargain—it was blackmail dressed in silver ink.
"You know those names," I murmured. "You know the gaps in the law. And you don't want me to go after your agents, do you?"
She stared at the pen.
It gleamed under the pale light, cold and far too heavy in her hand.
A pause.
A breath.
Then—
One swift stroke.
A name signed.
Andrea Raven.
My smile widened.
Smart move, Banshee.
I hope she read the fine print.
With that name, her soul is mine. She can never raise her voice against me now—not without tearing herself apart from the inside. And if she breaks the deal? Magic will do the rest.
There's nothing for me to lose with a banshee now on a leash.
I stepped back, and as I walked, the fog deepened, swallowing the room in an impenetrable haze. One last glance—my grey eyes cutting through the mist, a lingering ghost in the dark.
As I looked at her blank expression, I couldn't help but mock through the fog. "Oh, don't be so glum. A Banshee and a boogeyman working together? That's completely natural after all."
And then, I was gone.
Silence.
Then—BANG.
Andrea slammed her fist against the table. The sharp crack reverberated through the empty office. Papers scattered. One—a harmless document—crumpled in her grip, crushed beneath the weight of her fury.
A faint hum vibrated through the walls—resonant, unnatural. The early tremor of a banshee scream held back by sheer will.
Her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. Her jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.
She whispered, barely audible, "What have I done?"
Outside, the mists carried me away. The deal was sealed.
Player 2, welcome onboard.