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My nightmares always start the same way.
It's not because I can't see, it's because I can't hear anything. It's like having your ears plugged from water pressure at the bottom of the pool. The only sound you can hear is the thump, thump, thump of your heartbeat.
Then comes the weight. Not physical exactly, but something deeper. Existential dread, maybe, if I wanted to sound pretentious about it. Fear so deep it needs a face.
So my fear gives the darkness eyes.
They bloom in the void like flowers opening in those aesthetic time-lapse videos. Twelve of them arranged in a lotus pattern, glowing with violet light that shone bright enough that it hurt to look at it directly.
The worst part? Recognition. Some animal part of my brain screams that I've seen these eyes before, that they've been watching me my entire life through mirrors I didn't know existed.
Then I fall.
I always fall.
I woke up, gasping for air as I braced for an impact that didn't come. I blinked, and noticed that I still couldn't see shit.
My head throbbed. A deep, violent ache that told me I'd been hit, and hit hard.
"Okay," I muttered into the darkness. "Okay, think."
The blindfold covering my eyes was rough fabric, probably burlap based on the texture against my skin. My hands were zip-tied behind my back around what felt like a metal chair.
The plastic bit into my wrists when I tested the bonds. They had the distinct give of industrial zip ties right before they lock solid.
Great. Someone had come prepared for me specifically, which was either flattering or terrifying. Probably terrifying.
I forced my breathing to slow, counting the seconds between inhales. The air tasted of mold and rust with an underlying dampness that suggested basement or warehouse. Somewhere old. Somewhere forgotten.
Water dripped in the distance. Plink. Plink. Plink. Rhythmic enough to be annoying, irregular enough to prevent me from using it as an accurate timer.
The concrete beneath my boots felt gritty when I shifted my feet. I scraped my heel deliberately, listening to the echo. Large space, then. High ceiling based on how the sound dispersed.
Then there was the buzzing.
It crawled across my skin like static electricity, raising every hair on my body in waves that moved from my spine outward. I'd felt this before, always right before something weird happened. Right before foster homes descended into chaos. Right before that thing in the alley last month that I'd convinced myself was a bad batch of energy drinks.
This felt stronger. As if I was standing far too close to some power lines.
I strained against the right zip tie first, then the left. Same resistance. Whoever tied me knew what they were doing. I flexed my fingers, trying to create space through blood flow restriction, but the plastic held firm.
"Amateur hour is over," I said to myself. "Time to get creative."
I tilted my head back, then to each side, building a mental map from the way sound moved in the space. The dripping water was behind me and to the left. My breathing bounced back faster from that direction.
That same buzzing feeling intensified suddenly
Was someone in here with me?
"Hello?"
"Stupid," I hissed immediately after. "Real smooth, Rome. Why don't you ring the dinner bell while you're at it?"
Then I heard it.
Click. Clack.
The sound of stilettos on concrete.
Click. Clack.
They weren't approaching in a straight line. The sound moved around me in a wide circle, taking their time. Whoever wore those shoes knew I couldn't see them, couldn't track them. They were establishing dominance through patience.
Click. Clack.
The buzzing on my skin surged with each step, like one of those radiation detector things.
Click. Clack.
Then came the smell.
Takoyaki.
"Seriously?" I asked the darkness. "You couldn't finish your snack before the kidnapping?"
The footsteps stopped.
The buzzing didn't. It transformed into something worse. A primal thrum that resonated in my bones and made my pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with fear. DANGER, yes, but underneath it... want? Need?
What the hell was wrong with me?
The air pressure changed. Someone stood directly in front of me now, close enough that I could feel their body heat through the cold basement air.
Fabric rustled. A hand touched my face.
The buzzing exploded into a roar.
The blindfold was ripped away.
My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light, and when they did, I immediately wished they hadn't.
The eyes from my nightmare stared down at me.
The woman who owned them was without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Long white hair fell around her face in waves that caught the single hanging bulb's light like fresh snow. She wore a fitted black suit jacket over what looked like expensive casual wear, the kind of put-together look that screamed money and power.
She took another bite of takoyaki, chewing thoughtfully while studying me like I was a specimen in a jar.
That's when I saw the aura.
Not with my eyes, exactly, but with whatever system was making my skin buzz. Purple energy rolled off her in waves, concentrated in hot spots around her eyes and hands. It moved like living smoke, beautiful and utterly alien.
I could see it. Actually see supernatural energy.
"Well," she said, her voice carrying a playful lilt that did not match the situation at all, "you're more interesting than your file suggested."
"My file?" I croaked.
She popped the last takoyaki ball into her mouth, made a small satisfied noise, then tossed the empty container over her shoulder without looking. It landed perfectly in what I could now see was a trash can ten feet away.
Show off.
"Rome Angelo. Age seventeen. No living relatives. Currently enrolled as a full-time student at Pacific Community College while working construction part-time." She circled around behind me. Her fingers trailed across my shoulders as she moved, and the contact made the purple energy flare. "Bounced through fourteen foster homes. Consistent reports of 'unexplainable phenomena' wherever you stay. Objects moving on their own. Shadows that don't match their sources. An unusually high number of accidents."
"Who the hell are you?"
"That's one way to ask for my name." She completed her circle, coming to stand in front of me again. Those lotus eyes studied me with an intensity that felt like physical pressure. "Though I suppose given the circumstances, some vulgarity is warranted."
She leaned down, bringing her face level with mine. This close, I could see the faint blue veins visible around her eyes, could smell something expensive and floral beneath the takoyaki.
"Here's what I need to know, Rome. Are you a Demon, or a Shaman?"
I stared at her. "I'm a construction worker."
Her laugh was genuine and rich. "Oh, I like you already. But that's not really an answer, is it?"
"It's the only answer I've got, lady."
"Amelia," she corrected, straightening up. "And that necklace you're wearing tells a different story."
My blood went cold. The obsidian pendant had been around my neck for as long as I could remember. I'd never taken it off. Never even considered it.
"How do you know about—"
"These eyes see many things." She tapped the corner of her right eye, and the lotus pattern pulsed with violet light.
She leaned in again, and this time her eyes weren't just glowing. They were active, the petals rotating faster as she examined me.
"That necklace is a seal. A very old one, very powerful, designed to suppress and contain." Her voice dropped lower, losing some of its playful edge. "And when I look at you with my eyes fully open, do you know what I see?"
I didn't want to know. Every fiber of my being screamed that I didn't want to hear what came next.
She told me anyway.
"I see a human body. Normal physiology, normal spiritual pathways. But underneath..." Her finger touched my chest, right over my heart, and the contact sent electricity arcing through my entire nervous system. "Something that's been sleeping behind that seal your entire life."
"You're insane," I managed.
"Am I?" She straightened, pulling a phone from her jacket pocket. A few taps, then she turned the screen toward me.
Crime scene photos. Three bodies sprawled in a warehouse, their skin gray and sunken like month-old fruit. They looked mummified, completely drained.
"Three bodies were found in the warehouse district last night," Amelia said, her voice clinical now. "Drained completely of life force. Hollow shells. The kind of damage only a demon could inflict."
My stomach dropped. "I didn't—"
"And you, Rome Angelo, were only person with a demonic signature we found at the scene."
"That's impossible!" The laugh that burst from me was edged with hysteria. "I was helping my buddy look for some urban legend ghost. I didn't kill anyone!"
"Your friend Jake Mendoza confirmed your presence there through his social media check-in at 10:47 PM." She swiped to another screen. "The estimated time of death for these three was between 11:00 PM and midnight."
"I didn't—I can't—" The words tangled in my throat.
Amelia pocketed her phone. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and I watched her pupils dilate slightly as she studied my face.
"Your heart rate just spiked to 140 beats per minute. Pupils dilated. Breathing pattern suggests genuine panic, not performance." She tilted her head. "Either you're an excellent liar, or you genuinely don't remember."
"Remember what? I didn't do anything!"
She reached for something on a table I hadn't noticed before. When she turned back, she held another container of takoyaki.
"You must be hungry," she said, her tone shifting back to that casual playfulness. "You've been unconscious for six hours."
She held a takoyaki ball in front of my mouth. The absurdity of the gesture would have been funny if I wasn't pretty sure I was about to die. "Say aah…"
"I'm not hungry."
"Suit yourself." She popped it in her own mouth instead. "Where are my manners? Proper introductions. I'm Amelia Beleth, head of the Beleth Clan, one of the Four Great Families. I'm also the first-year instructor at New Pacifica Shaman College."
She set the container aside and placed both hands on my chair's armrests.
"And I'm the person who's going to decide whether you live or die in the next five minutes."
The lotus patterns in her eyes spun faster.
"So let's try this again, darling. What. Are. You?"