Leila followed behind the strong man with a casual stride, her steps echoing faintly in the dimly lit passageway. She carried an air of detachment, her expression as unchanging as the shadows that cloaked her. The man led the way with a deliberate pace, his broad back blocking what little light seeped into the corridor, casting a long shadow that swallowed the ground beneath them.
The place they walked through was steeped in darkness, devoid of even a single flickering bulb to cut through the gloom. It felt like a forgotten pocket of the world, hidden from prying eyes and tucked away in the decaying remnants of an old market district. Crumbling brick walls lined the narrow pathway, streaked with water stains and layered with decades of grime. The air was thick with the damp, earthy smell of mildew and old wood. The faint sound of dripping water punctuated the silence, each drop falling from the eaves above in a slow, rhythmic cadence, like a clock ticking away time in this forsaken corner.
As they moved deeper into the shadows, the corridor's atmosphere seemed to press in, oppressive and stifling. The buildings flanking the path were ancient and decrepit, their windows boarded up or shattered, and the doors hung askew on rusted hinges. There was no sign of life here, no indication that anyone had walked these paths in years.
Before they reached the end of the corridor, a noise broke through the stillness—a sharp, shattering sound that echoed like a distant thunderclap.
"Ahhh, I'm so irritated!"
The outburst came from beyond a half-open doorway, the voice rough and raw with frustration. This was immediately followed by the clatter of objects hitting the floor, the sound of things being overturned or kicked aside with abandon. It was the sound of someone lashing out against their surroundings, the noise ringing through the empty building.
"It's unbearable," the voice grumbled, each word carrying a growl of pent-up anger. "Being stuck in this place all day, with nothing to tear apart..."
"Calm down, Kasim," a woman's voice interjected, her tone smooth and unhurried, as though she had grown accustomed to dealing with such outbursts. "I've told you before, it's not time yet. Rushing into the human world without understanding the situation is foolish. Don't be reckless, like that impatient little girl…"
"Leila?" The mention of Leila seemed to provoke the man even further.
"She's the only one allowed outside, while we're stuck here," he spat, his voice growing more erratic. "It's not fair! She gets to roam free, and we're just left to rot! Die, die, die!"
The tirade ended with a heavy, blunt impact—something smashing against the wall with enough force to make the entire building shudder. Dust drifted down from the ceiling in a fine mist, swirling through the pale light that trickled in from the corridor.
"Kasim." The woman's voice sharpened, gaining an edge of authority. The sound of the man's angry breaths filled the space, but after a moment, he muttered something unintelligible and fell silent, the anger seemingly smothered.
"Try not to destroy this place," the woman continued, her voice regaining its measured calm. "We still need it. If it collapses and draws attention, it will complicate things for all of us." Her tone softened slightly, as if to soothe the man's simmering rage. "Don't worry. We'll deal with the girl when the time is right. She'll learn that following orders is not optional..."
At that moment, Leila stepped into the doorway. Her entrance was quiet, her movements barely disturbing the air. She slipped into the darkened room like a shadow, her face betraying no emotion. The room itself was dim, lit only by a few stray rays of moonlight seeping through the cracks in the boarded windows. In one corner, a rusted lamp stood askew, its bulb long dead.
Leila positioned herself in a corner where the shadows clung thickly, her figure nearly blending into the darkness. Her expression was blank, but there was a cold sharpness in her eyes.
"I'm here," she said, her voice carrying a note of impatience. "Say what you need to."
"Oh? We were just about to discuss you," replied the woman, her tone dripping with mock surprise.
The woman was seated in a worn, threadbare armchair that had likely seen better days decades ago. She leaned slightly to one side, revealing a sliver of her form—curves accentuated beneath a flowing, dark gown. Her posture was languid, as if she found the whole affair more tiresome than concerning.
The strong man who had led Leila into the room, Usak, walked over to stand beside the seated woman. A proud grin spread across his rough features as he gestured toward Leila. "I brought her back."
"Well done, Usak," the woman purred, her lips curving into a smile that held more calculation than warmth. "I knew you were reliable."
Usak's face lit up with pleasure at the compliment, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. He adjusted his stance, trying to appear casual as he took his place beside her. But despite his attempts at nonchalance, his gaze lingered on her, a barely hidden hunger flickering in his eyes. It was the look of a follower desperately craving approval, his body practically vibrating with the effort to appear at ease.
[TL note - Bro reminds me of that dog from that anime Chainsaw Man lol]
Leila watched the interaction with undisguised disdain, her lips curling slightly in a sneer.
Oh, is that all it takes? she thought with contempt. How pathetic.
What's so special about her? This is just dull. Mind-numbingly dull.
"Do you have anything to say?" The woman's eyes shifted to Leila, her expression turning sharp as she got to the point.
Leila met her gaze coolly, offering no response.
"You've been causing us a lot of trouble," the woman said bluntly, her tone taking on a hard edge. "I've told you again and again—keep a low profile. It's been far too long since we last woke, and the world has changed. Humans have grown more dangerous, more aware of our kind."
She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with emphasis. "And the strongest among us is still far from achieving a full resurrection. We can't create a perfect vessel without that power."
Leila's expression didn't change, but her voice grew colder. "That's why we need to collect nourishment, isn't it?" she said. "Without the emotions of humans to feed on, we'll never reach our full strength."
Her gaze hardened as she continued. "So, while you all hid away in the shadows, I went out and gathered what we needed. I helped us recover faster, while the rest of you cowered here."
Kasim, the volatile man, spoke up, his voice still carrying a raw edge. "I think she's right. We can't just—"
"Shut up, Kasim," the woman snapped, her patience wearing thin. Kasim's mouth clamped shut, his eyes flickering with resentment.
"Restoring our strength is crucial, yes. But not in such an obvious manner," the woman continued, turning back to Leila. "You've drawn far too much attention. If you're not careful, you'll be caught or worse, endanger us all—long before you reach the power you think you need."
She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest as she fixed Leila with a piercing stare. "So think very carefully before you make your next move, girl. Your actions affect all of us."
Leila's eyes narrowed, meeting the woman's gaze without flinching. The air between them grew thick with unspoken tension, like a taut wire ready to snap. The silence stretched, the room filled only with the faint dripping of water outside.
Then, a cold, mirthless smile spread across Leila's lips, and she let out a quiet, mocking laugh.
"It seems you've wasted too much of your essence on those gaudy lumps of flesh," she sneered, her tone dripping with disdain. "Maybe you're no longer fit to be making decisions, Ophelia."
Before Ophelia could react, Usak, who had been standing quietly beside her, suddenly stepped forward. His expression shifted, darkening into something far more menacing.
"Take that back."
His voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl, each word like a crack of ice in the cold air. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, a chill settling over the space as he glared at Leila with a murderous intensity.
"What? Can't handle a little criticism of your beloved Ophelia?" Leila replied, unfazed, her voice carrying a taunting edge.
Usak's fists clenched, his body tensing as if ready to lash out. But before he could move, Ophelia raised a hand, stopping him with a simple gesture.
"Enough, Usak. There's no need for violence."
She leaned back, her posture lazy, but her gaze remained fixed on Leila, studying her carefully.
"You always did have a sharp tongue," Ophelia remarked, her voice taking on a reflective tone. "You've always been difficult, but this time, you seem even more agitated than usual."
Leila's gaze swept over the three of them—Kasim, Usak, and Ophelia—her expression one of utter contempt, as though she were looking at insects rather than equals.
"Of course I am," she said, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Look at you—all of you. Pretending like we're not abominations, hiding from the truth.
You all act like everything's fine, like this is where we belong. It's a joke."
Her voice lowered to a near whisper, a note of disgust coloring every word. "It's pathetic. Disgusting."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with disdain.
No one dared to speak.
The three others remained silent, watching her with a mixture of unease and irritation, but none of them challenged her.
After a long, tense pause, Ophelia sighed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs casually. "You do realize that when you say that, you're including yourself, don't you?"
Leila met her eyes, her expression unchanged. But the fierce, unyielding light in her gaze was answer enough.
For a long moment, they stared at each other in silence.
"Very well," Ophelia finally said, her voice flat and emotionless. "It seems we have nothing more to discuss."
"Agreed," Leila replied, her voice equally cold. "There's nothing more to say."
It was the first and last time in their conversation that they found common ground.
Leila turned without another word, striding out of the room with her head held high. She didn't spare a glance back, leaving the others behind in the shadows.
The three figures in the dark room remained still, listening as the sound of Leila's footsteps faded into the distance. Only the rhythmic drip of water on the ground broke the silence.
---
Outside, the night was pitch-black, a heavy blanket of darkness without a moon or stars. Leila walked down the empty streets, her figure a solitary silhouette under the sparse streetlights, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement.
She moved without direction, like a ghost drifting through the remnants of a world she did not belong to. Her steps were mechanical, each one echoing against the empty storefronts and crumbling buildings around her.
Where could she go? She did not belong to this time, this world, or any place at all. She wasn't human—she merely wore their guise, but the truth lay beneath her skin, a constant reminder that she was different.
She kept walking, her thoughts tangled, until the streetlamp above her flickered and then went out with a sharp snap.
Leila stopped, tilting her head back, her face illuminated only by the distant glow of the city beyond.
In the darkness, her eyes glowed with a faint, unnatural blue light, like embers burning beneath the surface of deep water.
And reflected in her glowing eyes was a shadowy figure—a bat-like shape barely discernible in the pitch black.