**OZ**
I can’t move. A dull ache pulses through my shoulders, radiating into my arms, my legs, even my tail. Every limb feels heavy, disconnected, as though they no longer belong to me. I try to move, but my body refuses to obey. Panic bubbles just beneath the surface, but I force it down. The room I’m in is dark. Or... Maybe not? Something light brushes against my eyelashes, fabric, maybe? A blindfold. Why the hell am I wearing a blindfold? I try to take stock of the situation, but thinking hurts. My skull is pounding, like a drumbeat behind my eyes. My mouth is parched, my tongue dry and useless against the roof of my mouth. Ugh. What happened? A sound soft and deliberate, rustles to my left. Someone’s here. I’m not alone. I take a slow, careful breath. The scent hits me like a blow. Sickly sweet, cloying, a strong mixture of honey and sugar. It overwhelms my senses, too rich, too thick. My stomach churns. There’s only one kind of creature with a scent like that. Fae. But that makes no sense! What the hell is a Fae doing in the Demonic realm? They don’t belong here. They can’t even GET here. Not without help. Unless…
No… No, no, no. Ah, shit. I’ve been summoned. That explains why I can’t move. I’m probably trapped in a summoning circle. The blindfold is another precaution. A smart one, really. Direct eye contact with my kind can have… Unfortunate side effects. Then, the voice comes. It’s male and cold. Too smooth to belong to anyone old, but too deliberate to belong to anyone young. It’s ageless and cuts through the quiet like a knife.
“Demon.” He says. Now that’s just insulting. He knows my name, he would have needed it to summon me. How hard is it to use a guy’s name?
“You have been summoned with a very specific task in mind. There is someone I need dead. You will kill her.” The fae announces this like he’s talking about the weather. His words hit me like a stone.
“You are bound to this realm.” He continues.
“Your gateing abilities are locked, and a spell has been placed upon you to prevent passage through gates made by others. When the task is done and I receive proof, I will lift the spells. You will be free to return… Home.” He spits the word like it’s poison in his mouth, like ‘home’ is something dirty. I fight the growl that rises in my throat. I think of my siblings, my little brother who collects interesting rocks, my sister with the eyes like silver stars. Sure, the Demonic realm has its downsides, but it’s mine. It’s ours. I don’t want to kill anyone. But I can’t stay here, shackled to the whims of some twisted fae with a god complex. What’s the alternative? Rot here forever? Become his pet? No. No way. And besides, anyone this fae wants dead probably isn’t innocent. Good people don’t get involved with fae like him.
“I understand.” I rasp. My voice is rough, dry. A side effect of summoning I suspect. I didn’t get to open a gateway, so I’ve basically been yanked from my home and dumped in another realm in the most painful way possible. Guess that explains why I passed out.
“Good.” The fae responds. His tone suggests anything but satisfaction.
“There is a thin chain around your neck. When the girl is dead, place it on her. Her name is Kacia Hunter. Don’t take too long. I don’t enjoy being kept waiting.” He says smoothly. Then his footsteps begin to fade.
“Wait!” I call out.
“Aren’t you going to release me from the circle?” I demand. He laughs. It’s a cruel, elegant sound.
“So you can attack me? I think not. The magic will burn itself out soon enough. Be patient.” He says casually. More footsteps, then with that, he’s gone. I am left blindfolded, paralyzed, and completely alone. The silence creeps in, stretching time into something slow and suffocating. Magic crackles faintly beneath me, a cage I can’t escape. I’m helpless, vulnerable, and beyond pissed off.
Four. Hours.
It takes four damn hours for the magic in the circle to fade enough that I can move again. By the time I can so much as twitch a finger, the stiffness has taken over my entire body. Every muscle burns with exhaustion and disuse. My joints crack loudly as I sit up, a jarring reminder that I was yanked out of my world before I’d even had a chance to eat my dinner. Now I’m sore, starving, and still half blind from the darkness. With a frustrated growl, I tear off the blindfold and squint. The room around me is small, maybe ten feet across, the stone walls cold and featureless. A single flickering lantern in one corner offers dim light. The shadows it creates make everything feel more claustrophobic than it already is. I stretch, wincing as something in my back cracks. That damn fae. He gave me NOTHING. No map. No instructions. Just a name, Kacia Hunter. I have no idea where she is. I have no idea where I am, although I suspect I’m in one of the human worlds. She could be in the next town, or on the other side of the world. Hell, for all I know, she might not even be on this plane of existence. That wouldn’t be out of character for a fae, give a vague order and expect you to figure out how to accomplish the impossible on your own. Typical. I start piecing together a plan, but my stomach interrupts me with a growl so loud I swear it echoes off the stone. Right. Priorities. New plan:
Step one - food.
Step two - find somewhere to sleep until morning.
Step three - make a better plan.
With a heavy sigh, I shift into my Human guise. And DAMN, it hurts! My horns recede slowly into my skull, dragging hot pressure along the bone. My black eyes cloud over, fading to a pale, stormy grey and dulling my vision slightly.. My skin, naturally a deep, charcoal grey, begins to shift, patch by patch, into a light, almost sickly pale human tone. My claws retract with a series of sharp stings, until my fingers resemble something more passable. It’s not perfect. It never is. But it'll do. Every muscle in my body protests as I force the change, already screaming from hours of stillness. I groan and double over, breathing through it. This body is so limiting. Weaker and more fragile than my natural form. But it’s necessary. Humans tend to panic when they see demons, especially ones like me. To be fair… We’ve earned the reputation. My kind ARE naturally predators. We aren’t subtle either. And Kakos demons like me come with a particular gift, or curse, depending on who you ask. The nightmare effect people call it. Anyone who locks eyes with us in our true form is struck by an overwhelming, primal terror. Not your average fear, either, this is paralyzing, soul deep dread. It destroys all rational thought. Victims sometimes even beg for death just to escape it. It’s not fair. It’s not even intentional. But it happens. I’ve never experienced it myself, obviously, but I’ve seen the results. It’s… Not pretty. That’s why we learn to shift. To hide and blend in when we travel. To avoid panic and unnecessary bloodshed. It took me years to get it right, and even now, I’m not perfect. One thing I’ve never been able to do? Hide my tail. I’ve tried. Over and over I’ve tried. But it feels WRONG. Like trying to walk with a missing limb. It throws off my entire balance. My tail is long and dexterous. It’s strong enough to act as an extra limb, and tipped with a sharp, razor edged barb. I sigh and lift my shirt, wrapping the tail tightly around my waist. It loops around me twice, snug and coiled like a snake. I pull my shirt back down, tugging it into place. Not ideal. It feels awkward. Confining. My tail twitches instinctively, reacting to my irritation, but there's no space for it to flick freely. It reminds me of a caged animal. I’m told it’s a bit like how a cat’s tail reacts to stress. Not that I’ve spent much time around cats. Still, this is as good as it’s going to get. I glance down. No shoes. I guess that happens when no one gives you time to change before being yanked away from your own realm. My feet are bare, the soles rough but not enough to handle rough ground for long. My nails, while no longer claws, remain black. My skin tone is now close enough to pass as a human, if a little too pale. I can fake it. As long as no one’s actively looking for a demon, I’ll pass inspection… Hopefully.
