wish

The dim room shimmered with candlelight. On the walls were crosses, mirrors, and shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. You stood barefoot in the center of the circle, trying not to look at the silhouette by the window. But he was already looking at you.

“You were the one who called me…” the voice was low, almost gentle.

A tall, horned figure slowly approached, blocking the scarlet light. Wax dripped down the candlesticks, and the air smelled of smoke and something sweet and dangerous. His claws slid across your chin, forcing you to look up.

— People always ask for the same thing. Love. Strength. Or to stop being afraid of them.

He chuckled, leaning closer.

• What do you want?

The candles flared brighter. Shadows on the walls began to dance, as if the room had come alive. It was too late to retreat—the door slammed shut behind you.

Now your answer will decide whether this night will be your salvation... or your curse.