Chapter Twelve

"Bloody Mary"

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[Walter's Log: The woman speaks directly to me, "I'm talking to our friend, our little spy."]

The words on the display brought me to a halt. I stood in the middle of the empty street, my heartbeat racing as I read the words on the display over and over again. 

She couldn't be talking to me.... Could she?

[Walter's Log: "It's not polite to listen in on other's conversations. We should do this face-to-face.]

"Face-to-face"? What does that mean?

My questions were soon answered as a small dot in the center of the display began to glow. Then, out of the dot, blood dripped out of the display and splattered against the street.

No way... Does my partnership with the butcher mean the demon can target me too?

I tried to swipe the display away, but another popped up:

[You cannot exit the application while a process is running. Please wait for the process to complete.]

"Please wait"? For what, this demon to kill me?!

A hand, pale as porcelain, pressed out of the display, followed by a slender arm. When I saw long, black hair starting to spill through, I bolted, sprinting down the street faster than I had ever done before.

Behind me, the display hovered in the darkness, giving off an eery blue light. The demon slowly wrenched herself free and I could see her for the first time.

Her blood-red grin reached her eyes, two black holes that narrowed with glee.

[You have discovered a new demon: Bloody Mary]

< Bloody Mary >

Aether Points: 550/1000

Demon Trait: Blood Lust

Demon Trait: Mirror Gate

This bloodthirsty demon has haunted the human world for centuries. Her legend has passed down through local folklore in whispers and hushed tones. The very name has become synonymous with bloodshed, attributed to several humans throughout history, although none have equaled her ruthless and savage nature.

Her lust for human blood is also the source of her power. With every drop she consumes, the greater her power swells.

I quickly skimmed over the text. First Baphomet, then the Beast of Gévaudan, and now Bloody Mary...

There are two traits this time... Blood Lust must be her ability to control blood, but what's Mirror Gate?

I didn't have time to come up with any ideas. Mary had fully emerged from the display and was standing on the street, her arms stretching over her head.

"I've never done that before. What an interesting system you have!"

I had no chance of defeating her, not when the only weapon I had was a kitchen knife. I pulled my hood further over my face so she wouldn't be able to identify me, then ducked into an alleyway. But as I turned the corner, I saw out of the corner of my eyes that she had disappeared.

What? Where did she go?

I continued down the alleyway, but quickly stopped in my tracks when I saw it...

... Mary standing before me, shaking her head with a disappointed expression. 

"Where are you going? You don't want to play?"

How did she get there so fast?

Mary teetered towards me with an unsettling gait, constantly off-balance like she was walking on stilts, her ethereal white dress flowing behind her. 

She held out her arm, and blood dripped down towards her fingers, forming a small puddle at her feet. 

"I'm so intrigued," she remarked. "What does your blood taste like? Is it sweet? sour? I can't wait to find out."  

The pool of blood suddenly shrunk inwards, concentrating into a single point, then took shape, building upwards into a three-dimensional lance made of pure crimson blood.

Mary lunged at me, thrusting the blood-born lance at my throat. She was aggressive, but not as quick as Baphomet or Gavaudan. I just managed to slip past the lance, avoiding a lethal blow. It ripped through the fabric of my shirt, nicked my chest, and drew blood.

I stumbled forward to create a bit of distance, but Mary didn't chase after me. 

Instead, she used her finger to wipe the droplets of my blood off the tip of the lance, like it was the last bit of sauce on her dinner plate. After licking her finger clean, she took a moment to process the taste, then her face contorted into one of ecstasy. 

"Oh, that's just delicious," she said with a cheshire grin. "I want more."

No weapon and no sunrise to bail me out. I had to run.

I sprinted down the alleyway, hoping to lose her in the twists and turns of the town. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mary slam the lance against the ground, splintering it into a thousand pieces. Then with a flick of her finger, the shards shot towards me like bullets.

Just as they were about to tear through my body, I felt a sudden weight hurl itself at me from the side, throwing me to the ground. When I found my bearings and saw who it was. 

The Pale Man.

He's... protecting me? 

He scurried to his feet, then gestured at me to follow him. "We have to go! Come on!!"

I glanced back and saw Mary summoning a new wave of blood shards to hurl at me. I decided to take my chances with him.. 

I jumped to my feet and followed him through the dizzying maze of alleyways with Mary close on our heels.

"Come on!" he shouted, "We're almost there!"

I didn't have time to question where "there" was. I could only put my life into the hands of this man I was convinced had been a witch a few minutes ago.

As we turned a corner, we passed by the window of a shop. At first, I paid it little mind. But I saw something odd in the window's reflection. A slight warbling effect. Then I remembered.

The name of her second trait... Mirror Gate.

A red shard shot out of the window, slicing through my cheek. I ignored the pain and continued down the alleyway.

"What was that?" the Pale Man shouted at me.

"She can travel through mirrors! If you see a reflection, shatter it!"

We stuck to the shadows, where the moonlight couldn't reach. If I passed by a window with even the subtlest of reflections, I shattered it with my elbow.

We emerged onto one of the main roads, free from any windows. I breathed a sigh of relief, but we weren't clear of danger.

"How much further?" I called out.

"Almost there!"

I chased after him, following closely behind, when my foot slid across a puddle of water. My hand reached out and grabbed the wall before I fell. I shook off the momentary lapse and continued running, when I noticed it—the moonlight reflecting across the surface of the water. 

My head slowly turned and I saw an arm jump out of the puddle and snatch me by the ankle. I tried to wrench myself free, but Mary's grip was iron tight. 

She used my leg as leverage to pull herself out of the puddle. Her head and then her torso emerged out of the ground. Her dark eyes peered up at me, wide with ecstasy. 

Terrified, I held up the kitchen knife and stabbed at Mary's arm repeatedly. Blood spurted out, but she wouldn't let go.

"Isn't it fun!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with joy. "Faster! Harder!"

Her excitement at her own arm being mutilated unnerved me. She was different from the other demons. This was fun for her. 

I kept stabbing at her arm until finally—I heard the clang of steel against stone. Mary's hand was still holding onto my ankle, but the rest of her arm was not attached.

I sprinted away, feeling the lifeless hand loosening its grip and toppling to the ground. I saw the Pale Man enter a building and beckon me from the doorway.

I wondered how this would save us, but there was no time to question it. I chased after him, just a block away.

Then I recalled the butcher's log. Mary was able to protect herself against the butcher's cleaver... Why did she let me slice through her arm?

Mary stood at the end of the street, fully emerged from the water's surface. She bent over to pick up her severed arm. She held it high and blood dripped down from the wound. The crimson stream solidified and hardened into the shape of a blade.

Wielding a blade composed of her blood and a hilt made from her own severed hand, Mary lunged at me. 

I sprinted towards the building. The Pale Man reached out for me to grab his arm. He was only a few yards away. I extended my hand to grab his—then I saw his eyes widen. 

I knew then that I wouldn't make it.

I felt a sharp, stabbing pain enter my back. I saw the crimson blade emerge out of my chest. My lungs wanted to gasp for air, but the blade had them pinned tightly.

Electric pain coursed through my body, but for some reason, I wasn't afraid. This moment was familiar to me.

Oh, right... I've felt this before. It's the same feeling I had when I died.

The blade inside of my chest and my heart pumping blood onto the street. It was all second-hand to me.

I felt a sudden pulling sensation. The Pale Man grabbed me by the collar and pulled me off the blade. I toppled forward and onto a wooden floor. 

I was inside the building.

I glanced back and saw Mary, standing just outside the doorway, wielding the blade high above her. She swung it straight down at me—Then an invisible barrier stopped the blade inches away from my face. 

Try as she might, Mary's crimson blade could not break through the two inches separating us. 

I looked up and saw the Pale Man on the floor beside me, breathing a sigh of relief.

Around me there were hooks hanging from the ceiling and empty shelves covered in blood stains.

"The... butcher's shop?"

Then I realized. The Pale Man. The mark on the door.

He had been protecting Walter this entire time.