The sky over Velross was glowing. The clouds were perfectly white, the sun way too bright, and the whole world looked like it was trying to show off its most beautiful version. But for Reina, it was all just a curtain—something shiny covering up a much darker truth.
She sat in her new office, a sleek minimalist studio high up in a downtown Velross skyscraper. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave her a panoramic view of the city, which now looked like a stage built just for her.
A gold-plated nameplate hung on the door:
REINA VALENTINE – Consultant & Speaker.
Everything she had ever dreamed of was coming true. She wasn't just a national speaker now—she was the face of a national education campaign. Job offers kept rolling in. Money flowed from everywhere. A major agency had picked her as the brand ambassador for a digital literacy movement. Her first book was in final edits, scheduled for a massive release next month.
But Reina knew this wasn't luck. It wasn't hard work either.
It was the result of a deal.
And something inside her was changing.
Lately, she'd been waking up in places she didn't remember going to. One night she found herself at the edge of an artificial lake in the city park—wearing an evening gown she didn't own.
Her phone was flooded with messages from strangers—people praising her, sending their creative work, business proposals, asking to meet. They all claimed they had talked to her. That they'd had deep conversations. Some even said they'd partnered with her on projects.
She had zero memory of any of it.
Every time Reina achieved something, it never felt like enough. Her hunger didn't fade—it grew. She kept pushing herself to take on more projects, get more exposure, more success, more of everything.
Her old friends started to drift away. They said she'd changed. That she was cold, too ambitious, heartless.
But Reina just smiled. She didn't need them. She needed more wins.
"Victory isn't a sin. Don't ruin what you've built, Reina."
The voice was back. Clearer now, like it was drilling into her ears.
She heard it during presentations. In elevators. In the middle of applause and laughter.
A voice only she could hear.
The people around her started to feel like actors. They nodded too much. Laughed too loudly. Their faces shifted like masks, morphing into whatever Reina wanted to see.
She started wondering… Was this all real?
Or was it some kind of world designed just to make her feel successful?
But there was no time to reflect.
She'd just been named the International Youth Ambassador for social change.
She was flooded with invitations to speak overseas. Book tours, contracts, even a documentary about her life was being filmed.
Then one night, she splashed her face with water—and saw blood in the sink. But there were no cuts.
She looked in the mirror and saw herself smiling.
But her real face… wasn't smiling.
The reflection whispered:
"Your ambition will never stop, Reina. Chase it. Claim everything you want."
Reina slammed her fist into the mirror.
It cracked—but didn't shatter.
Through the fracture, she saw a dark figure in a black cloak. Just standing there. Still.
She spun around. No one was there.
Time started slipping.
One moment she was giving a speech on stage, the next she was in a hotel bathroom—her hands stained with ink, weird symbols scrawled all over the walls.
She saw blood.
Triangles. Again and again.
Her mind kept spinning.
She started doubting everything.
Had she really earned all this?
Or was it all because of the deal?
Reina was at the top of the world.
She'd won prestigious awards.
Reporters praised her.
People cried during her speeches.
But when she looked out at the crowd—every face was blank. Their eyes black. No light. Like puppets.
In the middle of applause, Reina passed out.
When she came to, she was in a hospital room.
The doctor said it was just exhaustion.
But Reina knew better.
This was deeper than that.
She started digging.
Tracing her own steps.
And found security footage—of herself entering the basement of an old building, dragging a suitcase.
She had no memory of it.
In the video, she was talking to someone—but the camera didn't show anyone else.
Just Reina. Talking. Laughing. Handing something to thin air.
She started questioning everything. Was she losing her mind?
One night, she stood in front of the mirror again.
This time, she wasn't asking.
She was demanding.
"I know you're out there—behind all of this. I want to know who you really are!"
No portal. No hand reaching out.
Just cold air crawling across her skin.
Then the voice answered.
"I've never been hiding. You're the one who closed your eyes."
"You wanted it all. I just gave you the path. And the deal."
"You opened the door."
Reina bit her lip. Her eyes turned red. She felt heat on the back of her neck—like something was watching her.
"Then show yourself," she shouted, voice shaking.
"Stop hiding!"
The mirror stayed silent.
But in its reflection, she saw a glimpse of herself.
Only… it wasn't her.
That version of her smiled wider. Colder. And its eyes—pitch black.
Reina shut her eyes.
She let out a soft laugh.
Not because it was funny.
But because she finally understood.
She had crossed a line she could never come back from.
At a glamorous gala, Reina stood in the middle of a glittering ballroom. Everyone adored her. She wore a designer dress worth a fortune, jewelry from top brands.
But when she looked at her reflection in her wine glass—
Her face had changed.
Her mouth was ripped open at the corners. Her eyes were hollow and black.
She dropped the glass. It shattered with a sharp crack.
Everyone froze.
But Reina laughed—to cover the fear clawing at her chest.
"I… just got too excited!" she said, with a big fake smile.
People laughed again, following the lead of the star of the night.
Music played.
But Reina knew.
This wasn't a party.
It was a funeral.
For her sanity.
She stepped out to the balcony to catch her breath.
But the voice in her head wouldn't stop.
"They're dancing because of your success, Reina. And you smile… because this is what you wanted."
When Reina looked up at the night sky, she saw the stars forming a triangle.
She rubbed her eyes—but the shape didn't go away.
Then, the music inside began to slow down.
Like an old, broken tape.
The laughter distorted into a low, piercing sound.
Reina shut her eyes.
And the noise turned into screams.
Her own screams.
When she opened her eyes—everyone in the ballroom was standing still.
Staring at her.
Blank faces. Black eyes.
Motionless.
She took a step back.
A camera flash went off.
Click.
"Smile for the camera, Reina," whispered Zareth—the demon.