Page 94 of Presence

“You don’t want to lure the prey?” he asks finally. “Knowing how powerless they are can be enjoyable if you let it.”

I shake my head. It doesn’t feel right for me to sneak around. I’m not interested in pretending to be someone I’m not or trapping an unsuspecting soul. I don’t want its trust, and honestly, I have no desire to be a lurker at all. I don’t know why, but I just want to… attack. I want them to feel me coming.

You were one of them.

But I’m not anymore.

“No, it’s not that. I want to sit on their shoulders during daylight.” The words spill from my lips before I can stop them. There’s a ferocity in my voice that surprises even me, but the hunger gnawing at my insides demands satisfaction. “Not hide in the shadows.”

Echo’s gaze sharpens, a flicker of that beautiful malice glinting in his eyes.“Interesting,” he murmurs as he comes over, crouching next to the sleeping human. His fingers trail lightly down my arm. “Even though I created you, you’re not becoming a copy of me. Maybe you’re not a sleep demon after all. Maybe you don’t even belong to the night at all.”

I don’t know what I am, but I nod, turning my attention back to the man, his despair a siren call. The stench of alcohol in his breath fills the air—I understand it. He’s drinking to escape, to numb the feelings he’s scared to face, if only for a moment. He wants to run from his problems.

I’d like to deepen that, make him escape further. But for now, we can do things Echo’s way.

I focus on the way he told me to enter the human’s subconscious. I place a hand on the man’s shoulder, and he stirs, a low groan slipping from his lips. His eyes flutter open, and for a brief moment, there’s a spark of recognition, a flicker of fear. But then I fixate on my desire to enter his dream, to witness his struggle within. Suddenly, something shifts. He closes his eyes again, his body going limp, and a shiver runs through me.

The room around us morphs. The alcohol-stained walls and scattered bottles vanish, replaced by an entirely different dimension. In an instant, I’m standing in an expansive, decrepit warehouse, cloaked in shadows and grime. The man is there too, lying on the floor, curled into a fetal position, his hands and legs bound.

Behind me, voices murmur, footsteps echo, and cries fill the air. It takes a moment to grasp the scene.

“He once called himself a successful man,” Echo whispers in my ear, a mere shadow appearing beside me. “He had a thriving business, a wife, and a baby on the way...”

“What happened to him?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

“He lost everything.”

That’s all I need to know. The rest doesn’t matter to me. The past me would have felt empathy for him. But the present me? I’ve gone beyond that point of humanity. The hunger within me roars, demanding satisfaction. I kneel beside him, my fingers tracing the lines of his face, feeling his fear and despair radiate in waves. It’s intoxicating, a heady rush that blurs my vision and quickens my heartbeat.

“Are we in his dream?” I ask Echo. “Or is he in the dreamscape? In your realm?”

“We brought him to the dreamscape. Just for a little while,” Echo whispers softly next to my neck.

The man on the ground stirs, his eyes opening. Our gazes lock, and I see a flicker of recognition—perhaps from another realm, or maybe he simply senses the predator before him. He whimpers, a sound that sends a thrill through me, and I crouch over him. My hand presses against his chest, feeling his heart’s frantic thud beneath my palm. His fear is thick and suffocating.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I hush him. “Don’t move.”

I feel Echo’s eyes on me as power flows from my palm to the man. Suddenly, I make him go limp, his eyes losing the fight in them.

“You made him idle,” Echo comments. “Why?”

Honestly, I don’t know. It just felt right. It felt natural to make the man give up.

“Do you want him to run?” I ask, turning my head to glance at the beautiful demon next to me. His black eyes glint, his head cocked to the side. “I’ll take it away.”

With a flick of my wrist, I withdraw my influence from the human, letting my power hum as I reshape the warehouse. Rows upon rows of walls emerge, forming a complex maze. But for the run to be truly interesting, it needs more. Echo craves the macabre, the taste of despair. So, I add another touch to the walls—reflections.

“Please, let me go,” the man whimpers, returning to his panicked self, voice trembling.

Have I been once like him? So pathetic and weak? So easily lost to the game before it even began?

“Let you go?” I ask the human. “No, I don’t think we’ll do that.”

Then, Echo puts his clawed hand on the man’s chest and grips him tight. The man cries out in pain. The sound is intoxicating, fueling the darkness within me. I can feel his despair and his hopelessness. I want to feel more. I want the man to give up already.

“No, no, no,” he cries.

“Can you devour his soul here?” I ask Echo, watching the crying man with eyes widen. I want to see all of it, every single moment of his fear.

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