“Brandon Cho, I’ve come for your
life.”
Those words
echoed inside Brandon’s skull, foreign intent overriding his own will. He couldn’t accept what was happening and his
mind had all but shut down. Though he
tried to fight it, his body seemed to be in compliance with what the being
desired. He couldn’t move, scream, or
even communicate with this shadowy figure.
“A
demon?”
Having no
idea what this thing was that had gotten into his apartment, he thought back to
the stories of demons that his parents had told him about to scare him as a
child. In Korean folklore, they were
usually tricksters that would occasionally take the form of humans, by wearing
their skin, to plague the living. His
parents had called them “Agma”, the Korean term for demons. There had been several instances in Korean
mythology recording these demons speaking without moving their mouths. The very same form of communication as the
being standing before him. So the stories
were true, and the Agma had finally come for him.
Brandon realized that since the
entity had been communicating mainly using telepathy, it would most likely work
the other way around. If he could somehow focus his intentions as
the Agma had, it would probably be able to read Brandon’s thoughts. It was worth a try.
“Tell
me, what are you?”
Brandon tried to aim his thoughts at
the Agma, hoping they would get through.
No one was completely unreasonable, something he had learned in his
profession. But then, this thing wasn’t
exactly human.
The man in
black coat knelt down to where Brandon was frozen on the floor.
“Don’t
fight. It will all be over soon.”
It had worked. This thing with the mystifying gaze had heard
him, but ignored his question. Realizing
that issuing a command wasn’t going to work, Brandon knew that guilt was also an
extremely powerful weapon in his dealing with people, especially growing up
with his parent’s culture. If he could
make this thing feel sorry for him, it might leave him alone. The Agma of legend often just wanted to be
entertained, and had no real motivation other than boredom to interact with the
living.
“But
I… I didn’t do anything! There’s still
so much I want to do! Please don’t… ”
Brandon knew this was his best chance,
and he hammed it up to the best of his ability.
Though he didn’t have to do much acting- he was genuinely afraid. If there was any shred of good in this man,
this creature, he would be dissuaded by sympathy. Brandon couldn’t have been more wrong. The being seemed to become aggravated by his
words. If Brandon didn’t know any
better, he would think he had accidentally struck a nerve.
The man lifted
Brandon up by his shirt, while an ancient-looking object began to materialize
behind him. It looked to be an old-fashioned
oil-lantern, but it had writing on it that Brandon had never seen before. It hovered in the air for a moment, before
moving closer to the two men.
The creature
with glowing eyes persisted to fixate on Brandon, while the lantern continued
to move slowly towards them, until it reached his right side. It stopped perfectly still, as if it were
sitting atop an invisible shelf. An eerie
blue flame seemed to dance around the middle, as if it were crying in anguish. The demon holding Brandon reached out, and
gripped the handle firmly, pulling it from its stasis, and into the fray. Brandon’s heart began pounding as if it
wanted to leap out of his chest.
“Please,
I don’t want to die!”
Again, the
being continued to ignore his pleas. The flame inside the lantern seemed to be
growing in intensity, causing the vessel to shimmer in the darkness. The assailant gripped Brandon’s shirt even
more tightly, pulling him closer.
This was it, Brandon knew he was
about to die. But he couldn’t, there was
still so much he hadn’t accomplished yet, things left undone. Without thinking, he knew he had to
fight: fight this Agma and its will that
was paralyzing him. He returned to his
childhood, and remembered that one could only fight an Agma if one knew
oneself. Brandon began to separate
himself from the dominate will of the demon.
It began working almost
instantaneously. He felt his strength returning, and soon became aware of a loud
scream for help emanating from his mouth.
Brandon only found himself resourceful when he was desperate, and
certainly, he had never been more so than at this moment. It was the impetuous final attempt of a man
fighting for his life. The being
repositioned its grip even more tightly around Brandon’s throat, holding his
head firmly in place. It was a
death-grip, but no killing blow was being delivered. Instead, the man raised the lantern until it
was directly in front of Brandon’s face.
The flame seemed to jump, curling inward on itself, and flaring up just
as quickly. The fire was very much alive
at this moment, and it wanted Brandon.
Again,
Brandon heard the creature in his head, this time, it was a simple command.
“Look.”
It was
simple, yet powerful. Brandon had no
trouble understanding the intention- this man wanted him to stare at the blue
flame crackling inside the lantern.
Though Brandon felt he should resist, something about the flame was
soothing, and the warmth that was beating on his face seemed to reassure
him. As Brandon continued to relax and
be lulled by the warm light of the fire, his attacker finally spoke with his
mouth for the first time.
“Gethsemane.”
It was articulated
firmly, but lacking emotion. A short strange
word said matter-of-factly. The flame
immediately reacted, and began burning to the top of the lantern, turning the
entire room a blaze of azure. Every
detail of terror in Brandon Cho’s youthful face was illuminated
brilliantly. This was to be the last
face the 27-year-old banker would ever make.
The flame
erupted from a small latched opening in front of the lantern, and passed
straight through Brandon’s body as if it wasn’t there. Once more, Brandon began screaming, though his
flesh remained unharmed. The living
flame had instead wrapped itself around Brandon’s very soul, the form of his true
existence, ignoring the fleshly illusion that retained it. It quickly severed the tether between the
body and spirit, causing the still screaming Brandon to fall completely silent. The brilliant blue flame entwined around a translucent
cerulean ghost of the once lively Brandon Cho, its appearance a reflection of his
persona on Earth. The flame retreated
back into the lantern, pulling Brandon’s spirit along with it. With a final wisp, the last of Brandon’s
essence was sucked inside the lantern, and the lid rattled shut tightly,
covering the small opening where the flame had found portal. One of the gems on
the outer mantle began to change in color from insipid black to a lucent blue.
It was over. Brandon Cho’s soul had left the body, and the
creature’s mission was complete. Now
only a dead husk, the assailant let go of Brandon’s shirt, causing the limp
form to fall onto the floor, sprawling backwards in a way that resembled a
puppet with no master. All life was
drained from the eyes, which seemed to still be looking at the thing that
killed him; even in death, the terror Brandon felt in his final moments was
still present. It permeated the room.
In a strange
moment of remorse, the creature bent down and shut the corpse’s vacant eyes,
but a pounding on the door alerted him to the presence of another. Normally, the being would have just vanished
in this situation, his work finished, but he felt something emanating from the
person on the other side of the door. It
was a sense of recognition.
“Brandon?! Are you in there?”
A woman’s
concerned voice came from outside the apartment. She pounded on the door a few more times,
before getting out her keys. They jingled
in the lock, but nothing happened; the door was being held shut by some
unnatural force.
Perhaps it was only out of curiosity,
but the creature of the night stood up slowly, and turned around to meet the
woman on the other side of the wooden barrier.
Using only his will, he unhinged the locks, and disabled the security
system, leaving only the bookcase blocking the entrance.
The door swung open, slamming into
the obstacle in its path. The young
woman’s voice again sounded through the door.
“What the hell, Brandon!?”
The brunette
pushed harder, using her feet to gain leverage.
The bookcase barely moved. Taking
a step back, the woman flung all of her weight into the door, leaping at it
shoulder first. The door knocked into
the bookcase, tipping it off balance and causing it to come crashing down in
the front hallway of blackened apartment, contents and all.
“Hello?”
Again, there was no answer. Cautiously, she entered Brandon’s apartment,
stepping over the mess she had just created.
It was then that she saw Brandon’s lifeless corpse at the feet of the
monster that had killed him.
“Brandon!”
She looked
at the man standing over her dead lover.
He remained calm and emotionless, lowering the antique lantern in his
hand. Still abiding over Brandon’s corpse,
he observed the woman with interest. She
possessed a rare fearless quality that most humans lacked. It was invigorating for the attacker, and
seemed to cause him some excitement.
The fiery girl had been called many
things in her life, but afraid had never been one of them. And at this moment, it was positively not
fear she felt. It was an uncontrollable
rage of despair. Not the sorrow of
losing a loved one. No, it was the anger
of seeing the man responsible for his death standing right in front of her,
threatening her with the same fate.
Without thinking, she prepared to make her boyfriend’s killer pay for
what he’d done.
The revenger ran at Brandon’s murderer in a fit of rage, throwing a surprisingly
competent right hook aimed for his jaw.
Having been in a few fights, she expected the satisfying crunch of his
teeth grinding together from the impact.
It never came.
To her
surprise, she began falling towards the floor, off balance from missing her
target. She hit the ground, but rolled
with the impact, reversing herself, and once again facing Brandon’s
attacker. Impossibly, he was now at the
other end of the room, and smiling at her.
She went through what had happened once again in her head- there was
absolutely no way she could have missed with that strike. Yet the impossible had happened: she had gone right through him, as if he
weren’t there.
She began to
get up to advance again, but an unseen force slammed her back down. She felt as if a giant hand was exerting its
force upon her, pinning her down to the cold wooden floor. She had been rendered completely immobile.
“Your
name… Is Natalie.”
The ghastly
man cocked his head.
“Natalie
Ricci.”
Natalie
realized at once that the thing that had killed Brandon wasn’t human, the very
same thing that she now faced. Angry at
being so helpless, she wished for the power to take him down, but as the force
pinning her down increased, it seemed all but impossible.
“You
bastard, stay out of my head!”
The creature
in black seemed amused. It was not often
he encountered someone who had such conviction.
“You
might just survive this.”
“What the
hell are you?! Why would you kill
Brandon?!”
“I
am called... Demur. Enjoy this corrupt little world of
yours, for we are witnessing the beginning of its end.”
With that,
the man turned around, giving Natalie one final look before walking out of the
room. As easily as he had come, he was
gone- seemingly vanishing right through the shadows on the wall. The young woman was free, and her body, no
longer under the strain of the creature’s power, began to relax, but was hardly
relieved. Lying on the floor, tears
began to roll down her cheeks. With the danger gone, reality began to set
in. Her boyfriend was dead, and she was
once again alone in a world she was now more certain than ever she hardly
understood. Natalie grabbed her arms,
and pulled her legs into a ball, hugging herself. She began to sob uncontrollably. With nowhere to go, and no one to help her,
Natalie could do nothing but try and reassure herself. She failed.
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