The demon girl wiped a streak of viscous black blood from her cheek, her jagged, regenerating skin knitting back together with a wet, squelching sound.
She glared at Diana, her four eyes swirling with murderous intent.
“You hunters seriously have no manners.”
Diana spun one of her pistols around her index finger, the metal catching the sickly streetlight.
She leveled it again, her aim unwavering.
“You tried sacrificing civilians in a public park.
Manners stopped mattering a while ago.”
Behind her, Natalya scrambled to help Mikhail, pulling him upright against the bench.
Mikhail looked like he’d been dragged through a meat grinder, his neck wrapped in torn fabric, his eyes hollow.
The demon’s gaze flicked to the massive sword strapped to Diana’s back.
Recognition—and a flicker of genuine fear—crossed her ruined face.
“…White Requiem.”
Diana sighed, a long, weary exhalation.
“Oh, great.
Another fan.”
The demon didn’t wait.
She vanished, moving so fast she was just a blur of shadow.
Natalya flinched, clutching Mikhail.
A heartbeat later, claws whistled through the air where Diana’s head had been a microsecond before.
Diana simply leaned, the air pressure of the swipe whipping her hair across her face.
“Fast one, huh?”
The demon landed on all fours, muscles coiled like steel springs, and lunged again.
This time, Diana didn’t bother with the guns.
She reached back, the hilt of her sword finding her hand with familiar weight.
CLANG.
Steel met claw.
The impact sent a shockwave of dirt and dead leaves skittering across the pavement.
The demon twisted, her body defying human anatomy as she coiled around the blade, her jaw unhinging to reach for Diana’s throat.
Diana looked less like she was fighting for her life and more like she was dealing with a leaking pipe.
“You know,” Diana said, parrying a savage swipe, “I expected a classy succubus.
Instead, I got discount nightmare fuel.”
The demon hissed, a sound like steam escaping a pressurized vent.
She shrieked, vaulted backward onto the trunk of a nearby oak, and began crawling headfirst down the bark with her limbs bent at grotesque, arachnid angles.
Natalya covered her eyes.
“Why is she moving like that—?”
“Because Hell hates me personally,” Diana muttered.
Diana fired twice into the air.
One round punched a hole in the fog; the other caught the demon in the shoulder, spinning her midair like a ragdoll.
Before the creature could find its footing, Diana closed the distance, grabbed the demon by the face, and drove her headfirst into the concrete.
The pavement cracked.
The demon laughed, a wet, bubbly sound.
“You think humans truly love you?”
Diana’s hand froze for half a second.
The demon’s eyes gleamed.
“Oh?” The creature’s smile widened, exposing broken fangs.
“So someone broke your heart, too?”
Diana stared at her, her expression unreadable in the dim light.
Then, she sighed.
“You demons really talk too much.”
BANG.
The shot blew a hole straight through the demon’s midsection.
Before the shadow could coalesce to regenerate, Diana swung the sword.
Clean.
A singular, beautiful arc of silver.
The demon split in half, her body crumbling into a pile of oily, black ash that the wind scattered across the park.
Diana rested the sword on her shoulder, looking down at the soot.
“…Definitely bootleg.”
Later that night.
The hospital room was sterile, the only sound the hum of a TV playing a muted sitcom.
Natalya sat by the bed, her hand resting on her brother’s arm.
Diana stood by the window, her back to them, watching the city lights bleed into the fog.
Mikhail broke the silence, his voice raspy.
“…I really messed up.”
Natalya offered a weak, sad smile.
“That’s one way to say it.”
Mikhail looked at the blanket, picking at a loose thread.
“I found a street seller near the subway.
Weird stuff.
Old books, charms, photos… I don’t know why, but that picture… it caught me.”
Diana didn’t turn around, but her posture shifted, listening.
“It felt real.
Like looking at a person.
I looked at it too much. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Then I started imagining her.
Then she was in my dreams.” Mikhail’s face darkened.
“Then her voice.
I thought I was losing my mind, but… I convinced myself it was true love.”
Natalya looked down, heartbroken.
“You know what I understood after all this?” Mikhail asked.
“Love doesn’t exist.
If what happened to me is love, then it’s all just lies and fake feelings.”
Diana finally spoke, her voice cutting through the quiet.
“You couldn’t be more wrong.”
Mikhail blinked, startled.
“What?”
Diana turned, leaning against the window frame, her arms still crossed.
“What she did to you wasn’t love.
But what you had for her?
That was real.” She looked at Mikhail, then shifted her gaze to Natalya.
“Your sister knew she was the target.
She knew the cost was her own life.
And she still came here to protect you.”
Natalya lowered her head, a tear tracing her cheek.
“That is love,” Diana said softly.
“And you, Mikhail… against the possession, against the corruption… you stood against her to protect your sister.”
Diana allowed a small, faint smile to touch her lips.
“That is love, too.”
The room went quiet.
Not the tense, sharp silence of the park, but the heavy, lingering kind.
Everyone sat with the weight of the words.
Finally, Diana pushed off the window and walked toward the door.
“Miss Diana?”
She paused, her hand on the frame.
Natalya looked at her, searching.
“Have you ever been in love?”
Diana stood perfectly still, her back to them, her hand tightening slightly on the door handle.
She didn’t turn around.
She didn’t answer.
She just walked out into the hallway, and the door clicked shut.