The first demon hit the wall and slid down in a twitching mess, but the hallway didn't go quiet.
It went worse.
The lights flickered once—
Twice—
Then exploded.
Screams broke out across the school.
Every shadow along the ceiling and floor rippled like something alive… and then tore open.
Dozens of demons spilled out—small ones, tall ones, crawling ones, horned ones—some dripping black tar, some with glowing eyes, some with smoke pouring from their teeth.
Kenna whispered, trembling, "Zyla… we're in a horror movie."
Zyla didn't move.
Because her chest felt like it was burning from the inside.
Again.
Her heartbeat hit like thunder.
Her vision blurred out, then sharpened, glowing faintly red around the edges.
Something ancient inside her…
something meant to be hidden…
something meant to be sealed…
was waking.
A demon lunged toward them —
Zyla didn't think.
She reacted.
Her hand shot up, and a burst of black-gold energy exploded out of her palm, ripping across the hallway like lightning and vaporizing the demon in a flash of shadow and light.
Kenna screamed.
Students ducked.
Lockers ripped open and flew across the room.
Zyla stumbled back, hand shaking as smoke curled from her fingers.
"I—I didn't mean—"
Her voice broke.
She wasn't supposed to do that.
She wasn't supposed to have this.
More demons growled and crawled along the ceiling.
"You need to run!" Kenna grabbed Zyla's shoulders. "Zyla, go!"
Zyla's breath caught.
Because in that moment — she remembered her mother.
Her father.
Her siblings.
If demons were here—
They could be at her house too.
Her family had no idea what was hunting her.
A demon smashed through a classroom window, shrieking.
Zyla flinched and her skin glowed under her hoodie — faint cracks of black-and-gold light spreading across her arms.
She looked at her shaking hands.
This wasn't a nightmare.
This wasn't imagination.
This wasn't one demon.
This was a hunt.
For her.
And if they didn't get her at school…
They'd go after the people she loved.
Zyla whispered, terrified, "My family…"
She looked at Kenna — scared, sweating, still ready to fight with a broken plastic chair.
But she knew Kenna couldn't follow her into what was coming.
"Kenna… stay here."
"The hell I will—"
"Please."
Kenna froze.
Zyla took one last breath—
—then she ran.
She sprinted through the halls, weaving through terrified students and teachers, dodging demons crawling out of vents and walls.
A larger demon reached for her — she ducked under it and kept running, pushing through a back door and bursting into the sunlight.
Her feet slammed the pavement as she ran full-speed across town.
Her vision blurred.
The world tilted.
Her chest felt like something inside was beating to break free.
People on the sidewalk stared as she bolted past them like she was running for her life.
Because she was.
She cut through yards, jumped fences, slid across grass until—
Her house came into view.
Her stomach dropped.
The front door was cracked open.
Something dark was smeared on the porch.
"No…" Zyla whispered, voice breaking.
She sprinted the last few steps—
"Mom!? Dad!?"
The house was silent.
Too silent.
Her breathing turned to panic as she stepped inside.
And then she heard it —
a low growl from the hallway…
And she realized she wasn't too late yet.
But she also wasn't alone.
Zyla stepped into the house, heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.
"Mom? Dad—?"
A whisper broke the silence.
"Zyla… in here—hurry."
She spun toward the hallway. Her mother was crouched inside the linen closet, her two siblings wrapped tight in her arms, all three trembling. Her father knelt beside them, holding a kitchen knife like it was a sword.
Relief hit her—
then fear slammed right after it.
Because behind her… the air shifted.
A cold presence seeped into the house.
And Zyla felt watched.
A slow clap echoed through the hallway.
Zyla turned.
A woman stepped out of the shadows—
tall, striking, with violet hair dripping down her shoulders,
dark blue jumpsuit clinging to her form,
chains dangling and sizzling with molten metal.
Her smile was wide.
Cruel.
Playful.
"Well, well," she purred, "the little Demonic Angel. And her delicious mortal family."
Her family screamed.
Zyla's breath choked. "W-Who—?"
"Icca," she replied with a mock curtsey.
"Satan's daughter. Dyren's sister."
She licked her lips. "And I'm here to kill them."
She stepped forward.
Zyla moved without thinking, shoving her family behind her.
"Run. Now. Go!"
"Zyla—!" her mother cried.
"GO!"
Her father grabbed the kids and dragged them toward the back door.
Icca laughed.
"Cute. You think you can fight me?"
Zyla charged her, fist glowing with black-gold light.
She swung—
Icca caught her wrist effortlessly.
"Oh honey," she said sweetly, "that's adorable."
She twisted Zyla's arm—
Zyla screamed—
Icca kicked her across the living room, slamming her into the TV.
Her ribs burned.
Her vision sparked white.
But Zyla pushed herself up anyway.
Icca's eyes narrowed with interest.
"Oh, stubborn. Dyren is going to love breaking you."
Zyla launched another burst of light—
Icca dodged it easily, chains snapping forward like whips and coiling around Zyla's torso.
She was yanked into the wall so hard the drywall cracked behind her.
Icca leaned in.
"You're not ready, little angel."
Zyla gritted her teeth, trying to pull free—
but Icca was stronger.
So much stronger.
Outside, she heard her father screaming, "GET IN THE CAR!"
Her family.
Her family.
Zyla shoved forward with everything in her—
black-gold light exploding from her hand.
It blasted the chain enough that she slipped out and sprinted for the door.
Icca lunged—
Zyla dove—
Her father peeled out of the driveway just as she leaped into the car, slamming the door shut.
She held up her glowing hand toward the window, ready to fire—
But Icca stood in the driveway, smiling widely.
She didn't chase.
Not yet.