Page 93 of Presence

He smirks. “Of course. Humans are noisy and emotional. They spill their feelings to anyone who’ll listen. It’s almost comical.” He waves his hand dismissively. “But that’s exactly what makes them so easy to control. They get lost in their emotions, oblivious to the fact that they’re being watched. But you—you were different. You noticed.”

I was, wasn’t I? Thinking about it makes me feel weird. Proud, yet disgusted. It’s strange. I can sympathize with who I used to be, remembering the loneliness and misery that weighed me down. But now, I get it. I understand Echo. Hunting me was just his nature.

What is my nature, though? There’s only one thing I’m certain of: I can’t imagine being human again. Something inside me is missing. I’m not like the souls wandering these streets.

“Still, as intriguing as it is to watch you endure the same agony I have, I’ll show you some mercy, my Little… Demon,“ he purrs, running a hand over the small of my back. “Come, I know just the prey for a perfect meal.”

He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I’m ready to follow him to the depths of hell if it means quenching the fiery hunger in my belly.

“So, you had other prey while you were with me?” I ask, as the shadows close in around us again. My chest presses flush against his. For some reason, his skin doesn’t feel cold anymore. It’s just right—not too warm to burn, not too cold to feel lifeless. Touching him stirs something deep within me, too. It’s not hunger; it’s something more profound. But I wouldn’t be able to name it even if I had to.

“Feeding on your emotions kept me satisfied for a long time,” he says, his power whisking us away to another place. “They were so intense, I didn’t need to hunt other souls. I was always with you. But when it became clear your soul would stay in my realm, I had to start hunting again.”

I’m surprised he’s giving me the answers to my questions, but it only feels fitting now, I guess. So, I keep on going.

“What about all the souls in the pit?” I ask, my hands gliding over his muscular shoulders. I thought he was beautiful before, but now, he’s even more captivating. Maybe it’s because I’m transforming into the being he is, but I can truly feel his immense power now. He’s ancient. So ancient... “When did you reap them?” I whisper.

“Before you,” he replies.

“So, when you left me in the dreamscape, you were searching for other sustenance already?”

“Yes.”

I had thought he abandoned me to torment me, to make me feel utterly alone. But no... even then, he had chosen not to consume my soul. He wanted to keep me.

“But why not just eat the ones you had?” I ask. Hunger dominates my every thought; the idea of possessing souls without consuming them feels like torture. The proximity alone would drive me mad. He had eaten one next to me once, but that was it.

“Think about it,” he replies, his voice steady and composed. “If you need a resource to survive, do you use it all up immediately, or do you plan to ensure it never runs out? The pit is my reserve.”

Before I can reply, the shadows pulse once more, and suddenly, we’re in a dimly lit room, the walls lined with flickering wall lamps. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, mingling with the weight of human despair.

In the center of the room, a man sits hunched over, eyes closed. He’s asleep.

“This one,” Echo whispers, his hand sliding to the small of my back, gently pushing me forward. “Can you feel how broken he is? Can you feel his soul calling out?”

My stomach tightens. There’s something different about this human indeed. He’s defenseless.

“What do I do with him?” I ask, stepping closer. Seeing him just sitting there, like a trapped animal, feels strange. But I didn’t set that trap; he did. His own emotions have ensnared him, binding him like chains. I can feel each one—self-loathing, hatred, prejudice, and revulsion toward the world.

They weaken him, fill him with animosity. And that animosity calls to me.

“The door to his subconscious is open,” Echo purrs. “Can you feel it?”

“I can.”

“Slip in,” he replies. “It’s that easy.”

Easy... Yes, it feels so simple. All I need to do is latch onto the venom inside him and let it pull me in.

“And then?” I ask, reaching the chair where he slumps. I crouch in front of him, studying his unremarkable face. Just another face in the crowd, but his ill will… it makes me lick my lips.

“Then we enter his dream. We show him the things he craves most. He’ll sink deeper into oblivion. That’s when we can do anything with him. We can make him scared, sad, or angry. That’s when we feed.”

Huh? Is that it?

“But what if I don’t want to affect his dreams like that?” I ask, swallowing hard. My teeth graze my lower lip. They’re still not as sharp as Echo’s but they could easily pierce skin regardless. “What if I don’t want to play any games?”

Echo cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowing into tiny slits. He watches me intently even now. I think he’ll always love watching me.

---