"How are the pizzas coming along?" I ask Romina. I'm sure my face is still bright red, and her look confirms it. She doesn't say a word, except: "Two more minutes."
"Good! I'm starving," Fiore says, standing just behind me, cheerful. "Milo, I saw some beers in the fridge… can I grab one?"
"Go ahead. There are some lager and…"
I open the fridge door, but out of the corner of my eye, something flickers in the living room.
At first, I think it's a reflection. A trick of the light from the fridge or maybe the sunset outside. But no: above the sofa, a tiny flame hovers in mid-air, flickering in a way I know too well, hopping like a rabbit.
Fiore and Romina follow my gaze, their expressions shifting from curiosity to alarm in seconds.
"What the hell…?" she whispers, tense.
The flame pulses, swelling, contracting, like a beating heart, and the air around it seems to vibrate with a strange energy. Then, from inside it, comes a voice I instantly recognize of the Massariol. "DANGER!"
A moment later, the flame vanishes, as if someone had blown it out.
I whip around to Fiore, alarmed. "Fi—"
A thunderclap shatters the air, and lightning strikes just a few meters from us, hitting the pine in the garden.
Then, chaos.
A strange, violent wind smashes the window panes. Shards explode inward, raining down on us. Romina screams as the kitchen table and chairs topple over onto us. I'm thrown to the ground. A dull hit to my side, a sharp pain stealing my breath.
The air reeks of sulfur.
Then, a rancid stench.
I lift my gaze.
Fiore is pressed against the wall. A huge creature pins him down with an arm full of claws. Horns scrape the ceiling. Its cracked skin glistens. Teeth drip black drool.
"Milo!" he yells, struggling. "Grab Romina and run!"
A chair leg is lodged in my side, and I see blood dripping from my head. But I know if I stay here, it's over. Get up. Now.
I reach out and find Romina's arm. She's crumpled next to me, her face frozen in horror, mouth open, eyes wide with terror.
"Romina! ROMINA!" I shake her with all my strength. "Let's go!"
Her eyes finally meet mine, but the terror hasn't left. Cuts streak her arms and cheeks, and she's in shock.
I have to get her out. Even if it's the last thing I ever do.
"Come on!" I haul her to her feet, kicking away the chairs blocking us.
We start running. My side throbs in agony, but there's no stopping now. I'll deal with it later.
I fling open the front door.
A monstrous crash explodes behind us, a guttural scream that rattles my eardrums.
I turn.
Fiore has grabbed a couple of my kitchen knives. With precise, almost dance-like movements, he slashes rapidly, the blades sinking into the creature's flesh.
The thing is a vision ripped from a nightmare: a twisted deer as tall as the room, claws instead of hooves, black and curved, gouging the floor with molten grooves. Skeletal wings curve from its back. The revolting stench punches my stomach.
Will Fiore make it? As if reading my mind, he shouts: "Go downstairs! Don't worry about me!"
Every step is agony. My vision blurs from the blood. My side throbs, a deep, stubborn pain. Romina limps and whimpers, dragging one foot; her breath is broken, a string of sobs. Three more floors. Three damn floors.
The screams upstairs chase us, muffled by the roar of rain pounding the stairwell windows.
Then a flash—blinding white—tears through the dark, followed by a thunderclap that sounds like a cannon blast.
The glass shatters.
I slam her against the wall and shield her with my body as shards rain down, bouncing everywhere.
A monstrous growl rises above the storm.
I lift my gaze: the deer-demon descends from the stairwell ceiling. Its grotesque wings flap awkwardly, broken, yet enough to hold it aloft. It's wounded. But its fury seems multiplied.
"Move, Romie! MOVE!" I shout, yanking her forward.
She finds a sudden burst of speed and runs down, me right behind. We're almost at the ground floor when her ankle gives out. Romina tumbles down the last steps, crashing onto the landing. I throw myself next to her and spin around: the monster is on us. This is it.
I stretch my hands toward it. Please, blazing light, come out!
The stench of the beast hits me, its jaws wide open. But nothing comes from my hands.
I shut my eyes, hoping for a miracle. Then—SDENG! A metallic clang makes me jump, and I open my eyes: uncle Bruno is in front of me, a golf club still raised. He's struck the creature square in the face.
The demon collapses to the floor with a strangled squeal, seemingly finally KO.
"Milo! Can Romina get up?" he shouts, running toward us, golf club still raised, ready to strike again.
"I think so! Romi, can you stand?" She's pale as a sheet, sweat beading her forehead.
"Y-yes…" she murmurs, barely audible.
"Alright then. Let's get out of here." I lift her up, and the three of us flee as best we can toward the exit.
Outside, rain pours down, washing the blood from my face, but the taste of fear still clings to me.
The scene is horrifying. Smoke and sparks fill the sky; the pine in the garden, struck by lightning, burns, the acrid scent of charred wood filling my nostrils. And my apartment… is engulfed in flames!
"Fiore!" I yell, panic clawing at my throat, imagining the worst. Then I see him: a figure sliding down the gutter with impossible agility—him!
He lands on the ground and rushes toward us.
"You all okay?"
"More or less," I reply, surveying us. I'm covered in cuts, my t-shirt shredded, blood running down my neck and arms. Romina isn't much better: her cuts still bleed, hair soaked and disheveled, swollen foot off the ground. Uncle Bruno still grips the golf club like a katana, his normally kind face hardened with focus. Fiore has bruises on his neck and arms, but is mostly unscathed.
Thank goodness.
"Hurry, Milo!" he says, tense. "You need to part the Veil and get us to a Council entrance. It's the only way to stay hidden."
"O-okay… I'll try," I answer, my voice trembling. They all look at me, and I get it. There's no trying. I have to do it. And fast.
My head pounds, pain blurring my vision. I grit my teeth and reach for that swirling mist, even as the rain beats down on my shoulders.
Deep breath. Once. Twice. Three times.
There it is—the Veil.
I grab it. My skin freezes at the slick, rubbery touch, but I don't hesitate, I part it.
The air shifts, just slightly. A shiver runs through it. Around me, strange sparks begin to flicker to life: tiny specks of light floating in the air like suspended crumbs, forming a path. A glowing trail leading toward a door that isn't there yet.
"Okay… this way!" I pant.
We move quickly. Uncle Bruno supports Romina, while Fiore brings up the rear, watching our backs.
My heart hammers so hard it echoes in my skull. I wipe my forehead, smearing blood and rain into my eyes.
I can't stop looking at the lights: if I lose them, we're done for.
The path feels endless, each minute stretching into hours. Finally, the sparks stop at the edge of a small parking lot, in front of a crumbling low wall overlooking a green field.
A streetlamp sputters, its thin beam flickering as if about to die.
The sparks swirl around what looks like a lock set into the wall's concrete, completely out of place.
I reach out, heart in my throat. My fingers find an invisible key in the keyhole. I grasp it and turn.
Suddenly, with a metallic click, a lacquered door materializes before us, bearing the familiar emblem carved into the wood: a triangle within a circle, the letters "C.S.D.M.U." etched below.
I twist the doorknob and push the door open.
We step through, leaving behind only the relentless drumming of the rain.
-
"They've escaped."
"I noticed that too. Tell me something I don't know."
"Ah, you're always so… kind.' Anyway, it's confirmed."
"Are you sure? I hate wasting time."
"He exorcised Yan-gant-y-tan. But I don't think he realizes how… curious, really curious."
"Do you know what else is curious? That I didn't see any Book in that apartment hole."
"The power was very similar. They must know something. They need to be watched."
"Don't keep me waiting too long, Amon."
"Oh, Elsa… but to await a pleasure, is itself a pleasure."