Page 18 of Corrupt Shadows

I let out a low growl, and Aiden jumps. He swivels his head so quickly in my direction that his neck lets out an audible pop, and his hand flies to the point of injury. “Oh, fuck. Dammit, Lorcan. Can you just, like, for once knock or some shit?” He runs his hands through his mess of mousy-brown strands, letting out a long sigh.

I raise an eyebrow at him, then speak into his mind. “I will never knock to make you aware of my presence. In fact, I quite enjoy watching you nearly die of fright—every chance I get.”

“That’s a real dick move,” he says, flopping back onto his cream-colored pillows but keeping his eyes trained on me.

“Report. What’s the progress with the best friend?”

“Well, Rosa has this collection of dicks—”

“As much as I’m sure that pleases you, I hear enough about dicks from your thoughts as it is.”

His cheeks redden, and I sense him attempting to push me from his mind, but I’m firmly there. The deal we made assures it. We’re already attached, and I didn’t even have to oppress him to do it. “Someone’s in a good mood today,” he jokes, and I slam my fist against the mirror. The rest of my existence relies on this human doing his job, and he acts as if his soul isn’t on the line.

“Do you want to go to Hell?”

“Is it better than sitting here and talking to you?” he asks with a smirk, and I growl. He slowly turns his head, then lets out a puff of air through his lips, a stray lock of hair blowing off his forehead.

“Look at me,” I state coldly. Darkness seeps through my irises, the shadows inside me turning them black. Razor-sharp teeth pierce through my gums as I unleash a glance at my true form. My mask only heightens the distortion of my features. His blue eyes bulge, the color draining from his face. A cushion drops to the ground when he kicks back against the mattress, sinking deeper against the headboard as if it might save him.

His words catch in his throat, but they slice through my mind. What the fuck?

I grin as I watch his horrified expression grow, then slide a talon down the glass, the screeching grating into his ears. “Then why wait? I’ll drag you there now,” I say, my tone gravelly, followed by a growl resonating from my chest.

His skin pebbles, goose bumps covering every inch of his exposed skin. I close my inky-black stare, calling for the demons in my realm to come. Screams rattle through his apartment as my demons slide into every mirrored surface, their depraved eyes on him. Some appear in their shadowy forms, others in their demonic forms.

Urine seeps through his boxer shorts. One of my demons licks the mirror on the wardrobe, next to where I stand. It’s pointed long tongue can nearly taste Aiden’s fear. Another watches through the mirrored surface of a lamp on his nightstand, and he slides away from the creature.

“No. Please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Okay? I’ll do anything,” he pleads, his nerves causing sweat to dot his forehead. “Please.”

I begrudgingly release the demons from his apartment, ordering them away. He scrambles off the bed. Stumbling on shaky legs, he slams into the wall behind him. Aiden presses his back to the door, his terror clouding the room.

Regret spills through his mind as he recounts the memory of selling his soul. I close my eyes, allowing the memory to wash through my mind. I remember every last detail, the scene painting before me as if I’ve stepped back in time and into the memory.

The grass that makes up the courtyard sinks beneath my feet as I saunter out of the shadow adjacent to the college library. It’s more crowded than I’d like. Demons cover the courtyard, playing frisbee or fornicating, just like the humans they stalk.

I growl. “Get the fuck out of the way.”

The demons split apart as I walk through them to the nearest dorm.

I’ve lived—no, survived—in the Shadow Realm far too long. Now, my usual resources for entertainment have yielded to boredom. However, the college campus is usually mildly entertaining. Something pricks at my demonic senses as I enter the building. I straighten my spine following the clumsy vibrations radiating from the fifth floor.

My eyes trace around the small dorm room, noting the single-bed-and-desk combo. Nausea churns in my stomach as I survey the space, but I ignore it in favor of the energy prickling my skin. The magical trail leads me to the center of the room to the Ouija board resting on the floor. My scalp tingles as it calls to me. It’s been a while since I’ve used the classic demonic tool to terrify a group of curious youths.

I swipe empty beer cans and chip bags off the nightstand, then perch my ass on the edge. I am so godsdamn glad I cannot smell the stench that most certainly soaks this room. My gaze focuses on the Ouija board, but I leave it in place.

I stare into the mirror hanging on the back of the closet door. A despicable smile moves across my face. This could not be more fucking perfect. A group of college students huddle around the Ouija board. Three males cram their hands onto the planchette, shoving it in each other’s direction.

“Dude, this is so fucked up.”

“What do we do if a demon shows up?”

A guy with a backward ballcap covering his hair shoulder-checks one of the three surrounding the board, then folds himself between the bed and another student. “Offer to blow him for your soul,” he slurs.

The male he’s seated next to shoves him in the chest. “Fucking idiot, you would offer your soul for it to blow you,” he says. My left eye twitches as his inebriated voice stabs into my brain.

Cheap beer sloshes out of the can the ballcap-wearing one grips in his fist. He flings around his damp hand, sending drops of beer onto his friends and the Ouija board.

And that’s my cue. I focus on the planchette, then use my demonic magic to steer it to different random letters on the board.

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