What the fuck is wrong with me? I was ready to sleep with a fucking corpse, God, Loa or whatever that was. I was afraid, but I was going to let it do whatever to me, just to get Justin back. Then it had the nerve to tell me how to fix my life. I can’t even be mad because on some level he was right. He? I’m referring to this, this...thing as if it were a real being. I splash more water onto my face and stare at myself in the mirror. I really have lost myself. I’ve killed vampires of three variety, lycans, six Orcs, and countless other creatures. Now, I’m worried if I’ll lose my job working TSA for missing so many days. What am I doing? I hear a thud in the room over. I quickly dry my face and leave the bathroom.

“Tituba, I heard a sound, are you okay,” I call out checking between rooms.

“Over here,” I hear a familiar voice.

“What are you doing here Jonah,” I spot him dropping Tituba into an armchair.

She’s not dead, I can still see her breathing, but there’s some bruising developing on her skin and she’s unconscious. I can already tell he hit her. She probably saw some strange man step into her home and tried to defend herself. Then he hit her, maybe a little too hard and that’s what happened. Right?

“CiCi, why do you keep ignoring me,” Jonah slowly spreads his wings.

“What are you talking about,” I try to inch closer to Tituba.

“I keep telling you to leave what is done, in the past,” his wings are fully expanded now.

“I have to try.”

“No, you don’t. That’s the beauty of life. You can just move on, like everyone else does. You don’t have to let your past dictate your future. I don’t. This old lady doesn’t.”

“I can’t find another love.”

“You haven’t even looked. You need to be done with this,” Jonah places his hands in his pocket, he’s prepping for a fight.

“You’ve never been in love. You can’t understand,” I start looking for cover.

“It’s not about love, it’s about changing the world. You need to accept the things you can’t change. This one is done. It’s over. Justin is dead, and he’s not coming back.”

“But he can, you just need to let me try.”

“This was strike three, there’s not another try.”

“I’m not getting what you want from me,” I try to get my hand on my gun.

“I want you to go home, and get over this shit. How many times do I have to tell you? Justin is dead. Leave it that way. He was my brother long before he started screwing you. I know best on this, just listen for once. I specialize in dark magic, I know what I’m talking about. You tucked your tail between your legs and went into hiding these last few years, you’re out of touch. You need to go home, before someone gets hurt.”

“You need to back the fuck up,” I am my gun as he tries to move across the room.

“A gun? Again? You think a gun is going to do anything to me? What you got? Blessed bullets, cursed bullets? No, you’re a basic bitch now CiCi. You wouldn’t even know where to get those anymore. I know you don’t have the heart to shoot me anyway. What kind of person specializes in blood magic, and passes out at the sight of blood? That’s where you’re at now.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, you thought I didn’t know? You went down to the Shadow Realm, snooping around looking for someone to help with a resurrection. You watched one, and shit went wrong, just like I said it would. You panicked and impulse kicked in. You shred that little baby demon. I’ll give it to you. But you passed out. When I confronted you about it, you didn’t even remember.”

“Shut up,” I scream at him.

“You didn’t even remember slicing and dicing the club like a slap chop. They said you passed out at the sight of blood. You didn’t wake up for thirty minutes after the deed was done. What a joke you’ve become. You’re standing here with a gun in your hand, shaking, afraid to pull the trigger. Look at you,” he looks away for a moment. “Look at you,” he yells at me.

He’s right, I have become a shell of myself. I had a feeling that’s what happened at The Shadow Realm, but I really couldn’t remember it. I never hesitated in the past, I used to just charge in, and get whatever I wanted. Now look at me, backed into a corner, in an old lady’s house. I went to an old lady for help because I couldn’t handle my own shit. Tituba is very capable, but an old lady still.

I take a deep breath and steady my hand while Jonah laughs at me some more. I close my eyes, and prepare to pull the trigger, but I can’t do it. I think he spots my hesitation and laughs even harder. Screw him, I can do this, but I need to see it. I open my eyes and quickly aim the gun at his chest, a bigger target. Then I squeeze the trigger quickly several times in succession, only pausing to realign after the recoil.

Almost as if in slow motion I watch as Jonah’s wings wrap around him, protecting him from the bullets. They crumble and fall to the ground almost as if his wings were hiding some kind of metal now. He opens his wings slightly, still expecting another shot.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” is all he says.

I don’t get a chance to respond before the air leaves my body when Jonah slams a shoulder into my chest, using his wings for speed. A few seconds ago, I was standing in Tituba’s living room. Now I’m pulling myself out of the rubble in her dining room. Jonah was always fast, but not that fast. He wasn’t that strong either. Okay, I’ve got six shots left. I just need to get in close, or catch him off guard.

I settle with throwing a hunk of drywall at him so I can rush past and get behind him. I don’t have any chance. The force of his hand slams into my throat and I’m lifted into the air. He could snap my neck but I’m slowly choking as he smiles. I truly get a good look at him and realize how much Jonah has changed.

He no longer looks angelic as in the past. Instead he looks more like a standing gargoyle, he doesn’t have a hunched back, but his wings are much more leathery now, his limbs have become elongated, longer than they were a few minutes ago. Did he undergo some transformation while I was gathering myself? He had to, he’s skinnier now as well. Shit, I don’t know how much longer I’ll stay alive.

I pry at his hands, trying to get them apart. The only thing I can focus on is the cut on my hand. My head is getting heavy and my lungs are burning for air, but all I can see is the blood. Just a little blood, but so much blood. Blood.