"...Priestess Putrescence will conduct a visit, so if you can just quietly attend the piano lessons given to you without causing trouble, then that would be great for not just for you, but for the family as well!"
Phoebe's hands tightened slightly at her sides.
The moment she heard the name Priestess Putrescence, a cold wave crawled up her spine.
The word Priestess alone was enough to make her uneasy...
Her mentor, Danica, had once taught her about the hierarchy within a coven.
Within a Coven, witches were stratified by the Circles of their power.
Ordinary witch members leveled at the Third Circle and below.
Handlers, who managed assets and missions, operated with the powers of Fourth and Fifth circles.
But Priestesses and Priests... they were the Coven's true might, the enforcers and high clergy of their sinful faith.
They stood at the Sixth Circle and above.
Phoebe, a mere First Circle witch, was less than an insect to such a being.
The thought of a Priestess, one bearing the foul name "Putrescence," visiting her uncle's household was a nightmare made real.
What hope did her revenge have against such a entity?
Even her mentor, Danica, was only at the level of a handler...
'No, I don't necessarily have to deal with her as well... just my uncle's family is enough...'
She forced air into her lungs, quieting the panic that threatened to overwhelm her as she continued to listen in on the conversation of the family below her.
...
"Once the shipment of the final materials are received, we will begin with the hunting."
The agitated male voice—her uncle— continued, his tone hinting at a gravelly threat.
"If you dare cause trouble during these next few days, I will not guarantee your safety."
The silence that followed made the night seem a lot quieter.
Phoebe could almost feel the fear radiating from the room below.
"Understood?"
Her uncle pressed as though there was no room for negotiation.
Seconds passsed before the soft, defeated male voice of her cousin replied.
"Understood."
...
Phoebe was silent as she waited for the family below her to settle down.
She waited for nearly half an hour, listening as footsteps echoed faintly through the wooden halls below.
Gradually, one by one, doors creaked shut.
The house dimmed until only the faint flicker of a candle remained— and then that too went out.
Only when the house had been silent for a long, tense twenty minutes did she finally move.
Rising from her crouch, her muscles protested, stiff and cold.
She scanned the room one last time.
Deep inside, the more she thought about what her uncle had done to her family, the angrier her thoughts grew.
This house was a nest of snakes conspiring with monsters.
'Pathetic cowards...'
The anger was a living thing inside her, but she held it in.
Now was not the time...
She slid the balcony door open just enough to slip through.
Pulling her hood up, she carefully climbed down the old oak tree.
It was slower going down, but she made no sound.
When her feet touched the ground, she blended back into the shadows of the forest.
The walk back felt different.
The woods were darker and quieter than before.
The friendly night sounds were gone.
An uneasy feeling settled over her...
Then, she heard it... an odd sound...
A soft, whimpering cry.
Like a child in pain...
It came from directly up the path.
She froze as her blood ran cold, her mind filled with fear in an instant!
She slowly crept forward, each step careful and quiet.
As she got closer, the words became clear.
"It doesn't matter if it hurts... it doesn't matter if it hurts..."
The voice was a little girl's, but it was flat and hopeless.
It sent a chill straight down Phoebe's spine.
Under a large, gnarled willow tree, she saw the source.
A little girl, looking to be around fourteen or fifteen, in a filthy white dress sat with her back turned.
She was brushing her hair in a slow, repeating rhythm.
The oddest thing about her were her hands... they were monstrous.
They were completely charred black, like burnt wood.
The skin was cracked and peeling.
This was no lost child...
This was a demon.
Phoebe's mind raced.
A demon, here? So close to home?
She was only a First Circle witch... and her current abilities did not have any direct physical attacks!
She couldn't fight it...
Her only hope was to escape without being noticed.
She began to edge to the left, moving silently through the path around the demonic little girl.
She kept her eyes locked on the huddled figure.
The creepy chant continued without pause.
"It doesn't matter if it hurts... It doesn't matter if it hurts..."
Reaching the edge of the turn, sweat formed all around Phoebe's forehead.
Then, the crying stopped.
The sudden silence was deafening.
The silence was worse than the sound.
A new, wet, chewing noise filled the air.
It was the sound of tearing flesh.
Then came the footsteps.
Not a walk...
But a rapid, skittering tap-tap-taptap.
Phoebe spun around.
The little girl was crawling toward her!
But her movements were all wrong.
Her limbs bent backwards like a spider's, her charred hands and feet slapping the ground with horrible speed.
Her head was tilted back, her face hidden by hair, but a wide, grinning mouth was visible, stretched far too wide.
Phoebe's courage broke.
She turned and ran, crashing through the bushes!
Suddenly, a searing pain exploded in her leg!
It felt like a hot knife had been stabbed into her muscle.
She cried out and tumbled to the ground.
She glanced back.
The spider-like girl was still coming, faster than ever.
But Phoebe's leg had no wound... the pain seemed to just be in her mind!
The demon was attacking her thoughts!
She scrambled to her feet and ran again, ignoring the throbbing in her leg.
JOLT!
Another blast of mental pain, this time in her other leg.
She stumbled, her vision swimming.
She couldn't outrun this... It was toying with her!
Desperation took over.
She stopped and yanked a small knife from her pocket.
But she didn't throw it at the demon.
Instead, she took a deep breath and sliced it across her own wrist.
Blood instantly welled up and streamed down her arm.
The real, physical pain was sharp and clear.
As her blood dripped onto the dark soil, she whispered...
"Curse of Incident."
The blood on her arm sizzled and vanished into thin air.
The demon was just feet away, that horrible grin wide open.
It leaped into the air, its burnt hands reaching for her.
At that exact moment, there was a loud SNAP.
A thick, low-hanging branch from a willow tree suddenly broke.
It swung down like a giant's fist and smacked directly into the leaping demon, swatting it out of the air.
The girl-shaped creature crashed to the ground with a sickening thud.
It wasn't killed, but it was dazed and tangled in the fallen branch.
It let out a furious, high-pitched shriek.
Phoebe didn't wait.
Clutching her bleeding wrist, she turned and ran.
Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out all other sound.
But the hope was short-lived.
From behind her came a sound of splintering wood and an angry, high-pitched shriek.
The demon girl was free!
The skittering, tapping footsteps started again, faster and angrier than before...
They were getting closer!
She pushed her legs to move faster, but suddenly, a new pain exploded in her chest.
It wasn't a sharp stab this time.
It was a crushing, terrible pressure.
It felt like a giant, invisible hand was squeezing her heart, stopping it from beating.
Her breath caught in her throat...
'No...!'
The silent scream echoed in her mind.
Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the cold, damp ground.
She clawed at her chest, gasping for air she couldn't catch.
She could hear the tap-tap-taptap right behind her.
She couldn't even turn to look...
She was going to die here!
Just as the crawling creature was about to reach her, a dark shape shot down from behind the trees.
There was a sickening, wet thwack.
A sharp, broken tree branch, longer than her arm, pierced down from behind.
It stabbed straight through the demon girl's back, the pointed end bursting out through its chest.
Black, foul-smelling blood sprayed across Phoebe's face and clothes.
The creature let out one final, gurgling shriek.
Then it fell to the ground, twitched once, and lay still.
The crushing pain in Phoebe's chest vanished instantly.
She drew in a ragged, desperate breath, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Slowly, she raised her head.
Standing over the demon's body was a tall, pale figure.
His black hair was messy, and his expression was unreadable.
In the moonlight, he looked like a ghost himself.
It was Seth.