I trail closely behind her as she heads down the trail, watching the bushes and trees carefully for threats and stalkers. I was so focused on that, I didn’t even noticed when she suddenly stopped.

I run into her—not hard enough to knock her over, but more than enough to make her cry out in surprise. She pauses, maintaining her partially bent over position.

“…Sorry.” She says, barely audible despite the forest being silent.

She stays like that for a moment more, then straightens and looks back at me, whispering a bit louder.

“Trying to off me already, huh?”

I smile and match her volume, “Just doing my duty as a hunter.”

Technique 3: Always be polite.

Mallory gives a short, soft giggle as she turns back around. She flips her small backpack around to the front, and digs through it for a moment. She pulls out a chicken drumstick, from a nearby chain fast-food restaurant.

She squats down and holds the drumstick over the bush in front of her. After a moment, a black, goopy, cat-like thing pops its head out the bushes. Mallory leads it out the bushes, then holds the chicken out of reach.

“I’m looking for someone. Have any little humans come running through here?”

The Half-Spirit (as we call them) clambers it’s front half onto Mallory’s knees, raising its body as high as it could. Mallory meets it halfway, letting it touch it’s nose to her head.

This Half-Spirit is more of the more unsettling ones. It has more than enough legs, many of them probably never touching the ground because of their position. On its butt is a white, glowing spot—the thing we assume is/was its spirit at some point.

Mallory finally lowers the piece of chicken, the Half-Spirit opening at its halfway point like a hatch. It’s exposed insides make me cringe and look away. I don’t turn back until Mallory starts whispering again.

“She says she hasn’t seen any kids, but saw a… well, not-kid wandering about.” She brushes residual goo off her knees. “If either of them stayed on the path, we can check the clearing before the path ends. Do you want path or shortcut?”

“What does the shortcut entail?”

“It’s just normal forest, but we have to be careful not to disturb anyone.”

I sigh. “It’ll be dark soon, so let’s do the shortcut.” I gesture for her to take the lead. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Mallory trails along the path until she finds an opening in the heavy brush. She steps onto a fallen log, treading lightly for one reason or another. I’ve never really explored why, but this forest doesn’t take well to noise.

Mallory says it’s because they spend most of the day sleeping. I don’t think she’s fully wrong, but she’s not completely right either. I’ve never heard of a spirit or demon or anything along those lines needing sleep—and especially not as much as Mallory is implying.

But through the forest we go, quiet as possible. Sometimes things poke their head out of hiding to watch us, silently but almost with a hint of… curiosity? Must be my imagination. Spending extended amounts of time in a place infested with demons and other unhappy creatures can’t possibly be good for your health—physically and mentally.

Before long, we come out the brush and into a clearing. As we enter the clearing, a mass of black goo parts to avoid being stepped on. However, the moment we stand still, the goo moves back in and covers our feet.

I grimace, any attempts to shake the goo only resulting in my foot being covered back up when I put it back down. They didn’t seem to be trying to crawl up my legs, so I decided to ignore them.

“Did you do this?” Mallory asks, a frown evident in her tone.

I follow her gaze up to the pentagram made of rope using the trees around us.

“Why would I come into this godless patch of land and do this?” I tsk, noting that she wasn’t bothering keeping her voice down anymore. “This is just a nuisance to the monsters, and a hazard for any lost humans.”

“Then, who the fuck…?” Mallory shakes her head. “Whatever. Can you cut the rope?”

Mallory starts to slowly trek through the goo, allowing the trapped Half-Spirits to make room for her foot before completing a step. I assume she’s interested in the large mound on the opposite side of the circle.

I get to work, awkwardly using my spear to pick at the rope. This was far from the right tool for the job, but at least exposing the sigils on it scared the little gooey freaks away from me.

I pause in cutting the rope as a being slowly rises up from the goo behind Mallory. The being was different from the rest of the formless goo—most definitely a demon. It stood on two points for legs, the goo it was hiding in dripping off its form to reveal scaly skin that then transitions into fur.

I poise my spear, ready to throw it, “Mallory.”