Page 476 of Evil Hearts

Veil of Nightmares

Demons Fall First

YD La Mar

Chapter 1: The Thrill of the Hunt

Lena Sinuon - The Midnight Widow

The city wasalive with the stench of death, wrapped in the false masquerade of Halloween—they just didn’t know it yet. Fog rolled thick across the cracked pavement of the streets, clinging to everything, suffocating the air with a sweet, sickly perfume of caramel and decay. The streets glowed with flickering orange lights, as if the very life was being drained from them, much like politicians siphoning away our tax dollars right before our eyes. The space was teeming with people, each draped in costumes, their faces hidden behind masks of grotesque horror or twisted humor, all vying to outdo one another in a macabre display of creativity.

But there was nothing innocent about tonight. The screams, the laughter—it was all part of the act. Everyone wanted to take advantage of this particular night to pretend to be something they were not, except for me.

I moved through the crowd like a shadow—unseen, unnoticed. But my eyes, they never missed a detail. The thrill of the hunt was sharp in my veins tonight, more potent than any drug but just as addictive. This was the night I came alive—the night I wasfree. Halloween wasn’t just a celebration, it was my sanctuary, the one night of the year I could walk among the living and take what I wanted and bathe in their blood right before their very eyes.

My latest target was close. I could feel his pulse even now, thudding in my ears. His heartbeat was a warning, a promise. Was he as excited as I was? Oh, little fly, come closer to my web. The sights I have in store for you…

I laughed as I slipped through the masses, the bright colors of costumes a blur around me. We all weave spells of false realities in our minds, some of us with the power to make it come alive.

“Oh, excuse…me,” came the first masculine voice to get in my way. It never failed to disgust me, the way they fumbled for excuses the moment something caught their attention. But I had no time to waste on trivialities like lust-driven teenagers.

Shoving him aside and continuing forth, my heels clicked ominously down the paved street. I spotted him. A man—tall, balding, his skull mask hanging crooked over his face as he stumbled through the crowd. He wasn’t drunk, but his panic made him unsteady, like a rat in a maze. My grin widened as I followed him, letting him think he had a chance of escape. The fear radiating off him was thick enough to taste, but it wasn’t my only preference.

He had no idea what kind of monster was stalking him. But he would.

I was dressed for the occasion, of course—crimson red, black lace, deadly elegance. My dress clung to my body, the fabric hugging my curves just tight enough to make them an invitation. The black corset was the final touch, luring the unsuspecting to unwrap the deadly gift of a black widow, only to have them collapse at my feet. The mask I wore—black, jagged, almost like a shattered reflection—hid my identity, though no one in this crowd would ever know the true me. They couldn’t. TheMidnight Widow didn’t have a face. She had only a name, a reputation.

I could already feel the bloodlust rising within me. The cold anticipation that slithered in my chest like a serpent. The hunger stirred frequently, but I relished my Halloween prey more than any other.

A thrill ran through me at the thought of the kill. That glorious moment when life slipped away in an instant—when the body went limp, still warm under my touch, and the soul was taken. There was no feeling in the world that could compare. And tonight, I could not care less about any pseudo demonic festivities, my only focus washim.

I watched with amusement as he tripped on a little girl’s dress, stumbling like the buffoon he was. He never should have played with fire, never should have forced my hand when his fetish landed on my doorstep. Politicians spun their webs, fooling themselves with the power they believed they held, unaware that the threads were slowly unraveling, until the world around them collapsed like a trapped insect caught in my tightening grip.

See, Mr. Hawkins had a taste for Asian women, especially the ones who came from broken homes and looked to be in their teens. He banked on their disparaging pasts to fuel his blackmail, using their secrets as leverage to offer hush money.

But he chose the wrong girl when he came looking for my little sister. It was her suicide that clued me in—a common outcome for those with a similar past. But me? I simply chose to channel my frustrations with injustice in a different way.

She should have come to me. We could have figured it out together. She wasn’t the only one who had to deal with such matters. But I had to remain strong for her, strong for the family, and save face.

I curled my lip in a snarl as the familiar hatred for everything he represented surged within me, burning like the flames of hell.

“Hey!” someone exclaimed as I ran into them, keeping my sights trained on the prize.

I shoved the woman in a demon costume out of my way the moment Mr. Hawkins began to run. With practiced ease, I slipped through the crowd, closing the distance between us. Some of the bystanders laughed, mistaking it for part of the show—just another thrill for the fright fest on the streets.

The city was alive with a cacophony of laughter, music, and shuffling feet, but all of it felt distant, muffled, as I focused solely on Mr. Hawkins. He moved through the crowd with that same, unsettling nervous energy that drew me in like a moth to flame. His face twisted in fleeting glances, checking over his shoulder, but it was never enough to notice me—watching, waiting, closing in.

His fear was palpable. It was thick, pulsing through the streets as clearly as if he were screaming for help. He thought his anonymity would shield him here. But I knew exactly why he was prowling tonight. I’d caught wind of it through a family friend, someone concerned about their youngest daughter falling in with the wrong crowd.

I smiled as he pulled away from the crowd, making himself easier to catch.

The people parted as I approached, each step bringing me closer to my prey. I let the chaos of the night blur around me as I slid through the familiar streets with practiced ease, moving like smoke against the darkness of the night.

I saw him hesitate when I slipped into the shadows, a slight falter in his pace. The alley loomed ahead, dark and suffocating, a black hole in the city’s noise.

Without a second thought, I moved, quick and silent, until I was right behind him. He had no chance to react as my arm shot out, wrapping my arm around his neck with a strength thatstartled him. His body jerked, stumbling back into the alley as I yanked him off balance, pulling him further into the gloom.

“Wh—what the hell?!” His voice cracked with panic, but the words were barely audible over his choking.

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