College dragged on with an unbearable monotony over the next few days. Even Mrs. Barik had taken leave for some reason, leaving Aidan to sit through uninspired lectures that barely held his attention. He had fully expected to be called into the dean's office after his altercation at the halfway, but with Mrs. Barik's absence, everything felt eerily calm. Too calm.
Determined to regain some sense of normalcy, Aidan made a decision—he would not go to Mr. Albu's house. Damon was taking up too much space in his mind, twisting himself into Aidan's thoughts at all hours of the day. It was starting to become a problem. A big problem.
He was an otherworldly being.
Developing feelings for a demon was worse than developing feelings for a straight man. It was beyond foolish. That was dangerous.
So, he forced himself to stay away. A whole week passed, and Aidan told himself he was doing fine. He convinced himself he was strong. That he had a handle on this situation.
Then, he failed. Miserably.
Damon must have done something to him. Cast some kind of spell, maybe. How else could he explain this pull? This gnawing, insatiable need to see him? It made no sense. He wasn't this weak. He wasn't. And yet, here he was—storming into his kitchen, grabbing snacks, and stuffing them into a bag like a man possessed.
Damon wasn't supposed to eat too much human food—something about his biology not responding well to excessive amounts. Mr. Albu was always strict about it. But Aidan hated seeing that look in Damon's eyes whenever he ate in front of him, the way he would stare longingly at the food like a stray dog left out in the rain. So, he packed an extra sandwich. A cheese sandwich. Hopefully, Mr. Albu would let him have at least that much.
Bag slung over his shoulder, Aidan made his way to Mr. Albu's house. It was a bright day, the sun high up in the sky. The neighborhood was quiet. Too quiet.
When he reached the old iron gate, he rang the bell, shifting on his feet as he waited. It took a few moments, but then—
The front door creaked open. Mr. Albu appeared at the entrance, his normally composed face twisted into something unrecognizable. His eyes were wide, wild, darting in every direction as if searching for something—or someone.
He hesitated before stepping closer, opening the gate only a crack, just enough to slip his face through.
"Today is not a good day, Aidan," he said breathlessly.
There was something off about his voice. It wasn't just urgency—it was fear. Cold, raw fear.
"You should go home."
Aidan frowned. "Why? Is everything alright?"
A sudden chill ran down his spine. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, a primal instinct kicking in as a strange sensation settled over him—like he was being watched.
He turned sharply, scanning the empty street behind him.
Nothing.
Just the wind rustling through the trees.
"I can't tell you what's wrong right now," Mr. Albu said, voice clipped, his fingers tightening around the edge of the gate. "Just go home."
Aidan stiffened.
"Is it Damon?" he asked, his heartbeat picking up. "Did he do something?"
Mr. Albu's expression darkened.
"He's fine," he snapped.
Aidan stepped forward, pressing a palm against the gate, ready to push past him if needed. "Then let me see him—"
"Go home, Aidan. For fuck's sake."
And before Aidan could protest any further, Mr. Albu slammed the gate shut with a loud, final bang, the sound echoing through the quiet street. The metallic clank of bolts sliding into place followed, locking Aidan out.
Aidan took a shaky breath, staring at the closed gate.
Mr. Albu was terrified. That much was clear. And if something could scare him this badly...
Damon's well-being gnawed at him like an open wound.
Just as Aidan turned to walk back to his house, he froze.
Standing directly in front of him, far too close for comfort, was Mrs. Barik.
His heart stuttered in his chest.
She hadn't been there a second ago. He was sure of it.
Aidan took a slow step back, trying to process what he was seeing. Mrs. Barik was supposed to be on leave. She wasn't supposed to be anywhere near here. And yet, here she stood, right outside Mr. Albu's house.
She didn't live in this part of town. He was certain of that. As far as he knew, she owned a house in the expensive suburbs, far from the noise of the student population.
"What... are you doing here?" Aidan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Something was wrong.
His gaze drifted down, taking in the state of her clothing. His stomach twisted.
She was wearing the same outfit she had worn the last time he had seen her—the same beige cardigan, the same navy blouse underneath. He remembered it clearly because he had nearly apologized for spilling something on her again, only to realize he hadn't even been holding a drink that day.
But now...
Now, her clothes were filthy, covered in grime and dark stains that sent a chill through him. Her legs were bare, her skin streaked with dirt and something that looked too much like dried blood. One of her fingernails was broken, almost entirely ripped off, the raw skin beneath it crusted with congealed red.
Aidan swallowed.
Her hair—usually sleek and tied back in a no-nonsense bun—hung around her face in tangled, greasy strands. And her eyes—God, her eyes.
Bloodshot. Sunken. Unblinking.
Like she hadn't slept for days. Or worse.
"Are you... are you okay?" Aidan asked hesitantly, forcing down the unease curling in his gut.
Mrs. Barik didn't answer.
She just stared at him, head tilting slightly to the side in an unnatural, jerky movement—like a marionette with its strings pulled too tight.
Aidan's breath hitched.
He took another step back, resisting the urge to run.
He was about to pull out his phone, about to call for help, when she finally spoke.
"Do you know that old man?" Her voice was different—deeper, raspier—like it belonged to someone else entirely. She didn't look at Aidan as she spoke. Instead, her gaze was fixed on Mr. Albu's house.
Aidan's skin crawled.
"Y... yeah," he said cautiously. "He's my neighbor."
Her lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile—too wide, too wrong, the kind of smile that shouldn't exist on a human face.
"Can you introduce me to him?" she asked.
Aidan took another step back. His entire body screamed at him to run.
The air around him felt thick, suffocating, the bright daylight doing nothing to chase away the oppressive chill sinking into his bones.
"Why?" Aidan forced the word out, though his throat had gone dry.
Mrs. Barik's eyes snapped to him.
The temperature seemed to drop.
She took a step closer.
"He has something that I own," she said.
And then she grinned.
A sickening, haunting grin that stretched too far, revealing teeth stained with flecks of dried blood.
Aidan didn't wait.
Didn't ask any more questions.
Didn't even look back.
He turned on his heel and sprinted.
His heart pounded violently in his chest, his breath ragged as he tore through the street. His legs burned, but he didn't stop—not until he reached his house, slammed the door shut behind him, and locked it.
He barely registered what he was doing as he grabbed his phone and dialed Mr. Albu's landline. His fingers trembled against the screen.
The call rang twice before a familiar voice answered.
"Hello?"
Aidan didn't bother with pleasantries.
"Please tell me what the fuck is happening," he blurted, words tumbling out in a frantic mess.
There was a pause.
"I can't tell you over the phone," Mr. Albu finally said, his voice eerily calm. "But you need to stay inside your house for the next few days."
Aidan's pulse spiked.
"I met one of my professors outside your house," he said, breathless. "She didn't look like herself. She was acting weird, and she was asking about you. I—" He swallowed. "I'm worried for her."
"I know," Mr. Albu murmured. "I saw her too."
Aidan felt cold.
"You need to stay away from her," Mr. Albu continued, voice grim.
Aidan clenched his jaw. "Can you please just tell me what the hell is going on? Do I need to call the police?"
A heavy silence stretched between them.
Then, Mr. Albu sighed.
"Your professor is possessed," he said flatly. "And there's nothing the police can do about it."
Aidan's entire body locked up.
"She's what?" His voice cracked, rising into a near-shriek before he clamped a hand over his mouth. He swallowed hard, his mind reeling, nausea bubbling in his stomach.
Holy shit.
He slumped down onto his bed, shaking.
This—this was his worst nightmare.
Worse than seeing a demon tied to a tree.
Worse than anything he had ever imagined.
"There are things," Mr. Albu said darkly, "dark things in this world. I'll tell you everything in time. But for now, stay inside. Don't leave the house tomorrow—not for college, not for work. No matter what you hear. No matter what happens."
The line went dead.
Aidan sat frozen, gripping his phone like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.
The fear crawling up his spine was unlike anything he had ever felt before.
His hands shook as he got up and double-checked the locks. He made sure the windows were shut, securing them as tightly as he could.
Then, he curled up on his bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the image of Mrs. Barik's unnatural smile.
He stayed inside the whole day, only emerging for dinner. His roommates came home from work as usual, chatting and laughing like everything was normal.
But Aidan knew better.
Nothing was normal anymore.
***
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