Selina pulled her jacket tighter against the cold as she made her way through the forest, careful with each step. She had been out here for hours, navigating between trees cloaked in shadows, every sense tuned to the slightest hint of movement. In her late twenties, she carried the look of someone who had seen more than her share of midnight haunts and strange encounters, her steady expression betraying only a sliver of what she felt. She wasn't fearless—just practiced. And tonight, she had come prepared.
A biting chill settled over the forest, pressing in as the night deepened. Even the crickets had gone silent. Her hand moved almost instinctively to her belt, fingers brushing the cold metal charms that hung there. It was an old habit, a kind of ritual to steady herself. She had known hunters who claimed each tool had its own magic, that the power wasn't just in the metal or spells, but in the hands that wielded them. She wasn't sure she believed it, but in the thick of the night, it helped to feel the weight of something familiar.
Her gaze settled on a narrow pond hidden between the trees, its surface as still as glass. For a long moment, nothing moved, and Selina almost let herself breathe. But then, just beneath the surface, a dark shape rippled, and her breath caught.
Selina ducked behind a wide tree, eyes locked on the water, pulse racing. She had a bad feeling about this one. It was the kind of cold that didn't settle on your skin but sank deep into your bones, a warning.
The figure that rose from the pond was almost beautiful, in a nightmarish way. Pale skin, dripping dark hair, empty eyes that reflected the dim light. A Rusalka—one of the most relentless of the water demons, and the reason she had been summoned to this quiet stretch of woods. A faint shimmer clung to the Rusalka as she glided forward, her gaze fixed on the forest, her lips parting as if she were savoring the silence. Then her song began—soft, slow, and haunting.
Selina's vision blurred, the music creeping into her mind like fingers wrapping around her thoughts, tugging at her will. She forced herself to reach into her jacket pocket and shoved earbuds into her ears. The music cut out, her mind cleared, but the spell of the moment hung thick around her. She could feel the Rusalka's eyes sweep the forest, feel the slow, dreadful pull of its gaze. She took a breath, stayed hidden. If she could just stay quiet—
Crack.
Her foot landed on a dry branch, the sound jarring and loud in the silence. The Rusalka's head whipped toward her, her dark eyes sharpening, filling with an eerie, almost animalistic malice. With an earsplitting shriek, the creature lunged forward, a blur of movement as her long, pale fingers stretched out toward Selina.
Selina ducked back just in time, but the Rusalka slammed into the tree with terrifying force, sending splinters flying. She tumbled backward, rough branches scratching her arms, dirt grinding into her palms as she scrambled to her feet, cursing under her breath. Her pulse pounded in her ears as the demon snarled, her face twisted with rage, her movements savage.
All Selina's instincts flared. Something held her there, her hands steadying as she shifted into a defensive stance. Her mind calmed, her body honed to a single purpose. She didn't always understand her own drive to face things head-on, but tonight, something in her refused to back down.
As the Rusalka charged again, Selina raised her arm in one quick, practiced motion, a wordless call for help from powers beyond her own. A glimmering blue chain shimmered into existence, crackling with energy. She swung it forward, and it wound tightly around the Rusalka's form, binding her in place. The Rusalka's body jolted, her struggles violent but futile. Selina gritted her teeth, holding tight as the chain pulsed with power.
Her hands shook with the force of the demon's resistance. Her eyes glowed faintly with the same blue energy, the charge flowing through her as the chain did its work. The Rusalka's essence began to drain, leaving her hair brittle, her skin dull, her power fading.
But just as Selina felt the demon weakening, a surge of something darker swept over her. Her vision went black. She blinked, struggling, but the world around her dissolved, and she was pulled away into something dark, something cold.
When she opened her eyes again, she was somewhere else entirely, a place filled with thick, stifling darkness that clung to her skin. She took a step forward, but her body felt heavy, weighed down. Shadows lurked in the periphery, laughing, jeering, circling her. One of them moved forward and shoved her hard, sending her stumbling back. Her legs buckled as another shadow struck her from behind, driving her to her knees. The laughter grew louder, a mocking echo that surrounded her.
Her gaze fell on a distant throne shrouded in shadow, a dark figure sitting motionless upon it, radiating a power that felt ancient, cold. She could feel the weight of its presence pressing down on her. Her heart pounded, every instinct screaming at her to run, but she was rooted in place.
With a sudden jolt, the figure surged forward, swift as a strike. Selina's scream tore through the silence—desperate, primal, filling the void, as her eyes snapped open.