Three in the morning. The witching hour, according to some horror movies, Renato thought. He set his phone aside. Moonlight streamed through the open window, leaving the room in a dim glow. It was a hot night, like almost every other night in this city. Not even the slightest breeze kept him company this time.
He was alone, lying in bed with his eyes wide open. Jéssica and Mical had not left their room since locking themselves in during the summoning ritual. Clara Lilithu had gone out to, according to her, do more secret succubus things.
The boy tried to relax, even laugh a little while watching meme videos on YouTube, but it did not work. He was too tense, nervous about what else he might discover. The existence of supernatural things made him feel smaller and smaller.
He remembered the vampires. Decided to close the window.
The room became even hotter.
He turned the fan to maximum. The fan spun hard and blasted a wave of hot air into his face.
He opened the window again.
"Better to be killed by vampires than cooked to death."
He shifted in bed. Wondered what his adoptive parents might be doing. At this very moment they could be somewhere lost in Eastern Europe doing God knows what.
"Secret parent stuff."
He wiped the sweat from his forehead when he noticed his hands were trembling. He swallowed hard.
"I had a panic attack the other day," he thought."Now a demon has been summoned inside my living room.""Two boys from my school died. They were not exactly my friends, but they are dead. Will anyone else die?"
He sighed.
Decided he needed to relax and, without thinking much, chose the preferred method of teenagers.
He grabbed his phone again. All he had to do was type the letter "x" in the search bar and the rest of the website appeared almost magically.
He scrolled through the screen, trying to find some interesting entertainment.
That was when the door opened.
Renato quickly pressed the button that turned the screen off and shoved the phone into his pocket.
"Thinking about naughty things?" Clara said, her reddish eyes glowing in the dark room.
"I'm not. Of course not."
She walked over and lay down on the bed beside him.
"Renato, I'm a succubus, remember? I can smell naughtiness from miles away."She gave him a playful smile."Show me your phone."
"What? My… my phone? Why?"
"Come on, show me. I'm curious. I want to know what kind of bizarre fetish you have. A man's browser history hides his true personality."
She was clearly enjoying his embarrassment.
"There's nothing there… it's just…"
He silently thanked himself for always using the incognito tab.
"If you show me… and it's good, or at least creative… maybe we could turn it into reality."
Renato coughed, choking on his own saliva.
"Did my ears really hear words that beautiful?" he thought.
Clara's delicious scent reached his nose.
She was so close.
She wore a thin nightgown and probably nothing underneath. Her olive skin, slightly darker than the other two girls', glowed beneath the fabric.
Clara shifted, adjusting herself more comfortably on the bed.
In that moment Renato noticed a small dark point visible through the thin fabric over one of her breasts.
His brain short-circuited.
"We could make a pact," she said, seductive, mischievous.
"A pact…" he repeated like a robot.
"A pact with a succubus," she said. "That requires more than a simple kiss. It requires something… much more intimate. Some men do not survive the process."
She placed the tips of her fingers on Renato's arm and slid them across his shoulder and chest. Since he was shirtless, he felt her touch directly on his skin.
A shiver ran through his body.
She leaned closer.
Renato's heart wanted to break through his ribs and jump out.
That wonderful smell.
This was it.
Then the succubus suddenly stopped and looked toward the door.
Her ears were sharp. Even though the footsteps were light, she still heard them slowly approaching the room.
It could be one of the girls getting curious.
But the pattern of the footsteps did not sound like either of them.
Then came the smell of rotten eggs, typical of people possessed by certain kinds of demons.
She felt murderous intent in the air, heavy as lead.
"Watch out!"
Clara shoved Renato with all her strength, sending him rolling across the bed and falling into the narrow space between the bed and the wall without understanding what had happened.
A missile tore through the wooden door like a knife through butter and slammed into the wall, opening a hole with the explosion.
A smoking mountain of splinters fell over Renato and an infernal heat struck his eyes, burning as if someone had poured acid into them.
His vision blurred. His ears rang.
He was covered in hot fragments of brick and hardened cement, smoke and soot. His throat burned. His lungs felt like they were melting. His entire head throbbed as if it might explode at any moment.
He forced the hot, dusty air into his chest or he would suffocate.
Slowly the ringing began to fade and he started hearing what sounded like a fight.
He looked around and saw two pairs of feet jumping across the room.
One pair was clearly Clara's.
The other he did not recognize.
They were male feet wearing military-style boots.
A sound like gas violently escaping from a cylinder filled the room, much stronger than normal, and suddenly the whole bedroom lit up with fire.
Flames blasted forward like water from a firefighter's hose.
Renato realized the mattress above him was on fire. Staying underneath it would soon become impossible.
He crawled through the rubble, pieces of brick scratching and cutting his skin.
The succubus turned into a reddish mist and appeared behind the mercenary. She placed her hand on the back of his neck and looked at him with a gaze only a demon could give, waiting for the man to collapse screaming in agony.
It did not happen.
"You really thought that would work on me? I'm disappointed, Clarinha."
He grabbed her and threw her against the wall, gripping her throat.
"You know… I missed you."
"I can't… say the same… you disgusting… son… of a crack-addicted prostitute…"
She spoke with difficulty, choking, saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth and her eyes filled with pure hatred.
Lúkin Ivanov, the Possessed Mercenary, squeezed Clara's neck harder. Her lips, usually a vivid shade of red, were turning purple.
She struggled, punching, kicking, trying to break free, but she did not have enough strength.
She knew why.
Lúkin, despite being human, carried a demon inside his body that gave him monstrous strength and agility.
"I knew your habit of sticking your nose into other people's business would get you killed someday. I warned you, didn't I? Told you to be careful."
Lúkin's eyes were glassy, emotionless.
"This time, your corpse is part of the order."
"Go… to hell…"
He pressed the tip of the flamethrower against Clara Lilithu's beautiful face.
"Barbecue time."
"Shit! Hell no!"
Renato grabbed a piece of brick about four inches long, sharp like a knife, ran toward the intruder and in one sudden movement drove the shard into the mercenary's ribs.
Lúkin Ivanov screamed, clutching the wound and releasing Clara. She collapsed to the floor, nearly unconscious.
The mercenary shoved his fingers into his own flesh and, grimacing in pain, ripped the brick shard out.
His blood spilled in a dark red tone, almost black, spreading across the floor.
Pillars of fire rose and consumed the furniture.
The mercenary stared at Renato in disbelief.
There was someone else in the room where he had sensed only Clara's presence.
Worse, he had been wounded by a kid like that.
How?
Surprise element?
That should not even exist here.
"I'm going to rip your spine out," Lúkin hissed through his teeth.
Renato clenched his fists and prepared to fight. That familiar rush of adrenaline flooded his body.
"Damn it! Interrupting people right when… things were getting good!"
Lúkin Ivanov fired the weapon in his hands, unleashing a storm of fire toward the boy.
But Renato was fast.
He dodged the infernal blast and before Lúkin could react the boy was already close, grabbing the flamethrower's handle.
Ivanov threw a punch.
Renato intercepted it and grabbed his opponent's fist, but the impact made his elbow crack like a dry branch snapping.
Both Lúkin and the fallen succubus stared in disbelief.
In another attack, the mercenary struck Renato with a kick known in capoeira as a Benção.
The sole of his foot slammed into Renato's chest.
The impact launched the boy backward.
Renato flew across the room holding the flamethrower and possibly experiencing the beginning of cardiac arrest.
He hit the wall and fell with the weapon on his chest.
Breathing hard, trembling, spasming all over and seeing everything blurred, he lifted the weapon with difficulty and aimed it toward the mercenary.
"Fuck! How do you use this thing?!"
Before he could figure out how to fire the infernal blast, Lúkin ran him over like a freight train hitting a tiny car.
He slammed Renato to the floor and began raining punches onto his face.
Renato tried to fight back, striking the ribs, kicking, punching, but his blows seemed to have no effect against the Possessed Mercenary.
His face became more and more disfigured with every punch.
Lúkin struck with demonic rage, drawing blood, tearing flesh.
A tooth cracked.
His lips looked as if they had been thrown into a blender.
Almost out of strength, Clara Lilithu crawled to the pool of blood left on the floor from Ivanov's wound.
She dipped her fingers in it.
Then she drew.
A star inside a circle and two triangles, one on each side. The left pointing downward and the right pointing upward.
As fast as she could, she wrote the word:
EXILIUM.
Then she slammed her palm violently onto the center of the star.
An intense white light burst from the blood drawing like a flash, blinding everyone in the room.
When the light faded, the Possessed Mercenary had disappeared.
Renato coughed.
He tried to stand but his legs trembled and he collapsed again.
The ringing in his ears was unbearable.
The only thing he could see was the glow of flames growing stronger, devouring everything around him.
He forced himself up, leaning against the hot wall.
Finally he managed to stand.
He saw Clara lying in the pool of blood, motionless and unconscious.
He ran to her and shook her.
No response.
Renato checked and realized she was still breathing, which made him feel relieved.
He held her in his arms and dragged her outside through the huge hole the missile had opened in the wall.
He laid the succubus on the grass, far from the flames, and went back inside the house.
He hoped the other two were alive but feared the worst.
Even so, he had to try to save them.
The fire had spread through the entire house.
The flames, like bright hungry monsters, devoured everything.
The heat was unbearable.
He coughed, breathing the dark, foul smoke. His vision almost went black.
He cursed as loudly as he could and forced his feet to keep moving.
He kicked open the bedroom door and jumped into the corridor, crossing through the flames.
The cement floor burned like a frying pan.
The fire had reached the living room and the kitchen.
The guest bedroom door was burning slowly.
He smashed it open with the hardest kick he could deliver.
Fire had already entered the room through the wooden structure of the house and reached the PVC ceiling, which was dripping burning beads onto the floor and furniture.
It was the beginning of hell.
Mical was lying on the floor near the door, arm stretched forward as if she had tried to reach it before losing consciousness.
Jéssica lay on the bed, seemingly asleep despite the destruction around her.
As soon as Renato entered he smelled something strange and dizziness made his body sway.
Then he saw the canister on the floor, similar to a grenade, releasing gas.
He held his breath.
He grabbed Mical, threw her over his shoulders and ran back through the burning corridor, avoiding the flames as best he could.
He placed the girl on the lawn beside Clara and ran back into the house.
When he returned to the bedroom he saw a massive wooden beam that had fallen across the passage along with burning debris, blocking the way.
He could see Jéssica still unconscious on the bed.
The fire had grown stronger.
The room looked like an oven.
Flames reached the bed and moved hungrily toward the girl.
If nothing changed, she would soon be cooked alive.
The thick smoke made Renato's eyes burn.
Tears streamed down his face.
He was covered in ash and soot.
He stepped back slightly and jumped onto the beam.
He had to plant his feet on the smoking wood, but managed to drop into the room.
He reached Jéssica and dragged her away from the fire, pulling her off the bed and onto the floor.
She coughed from the smoke but did not wake up.
The dizziness returned.
Only then did he remember he had to hold his breath or the gas would make him faint.
He looked at the passage blocked by the burning beam.
There was no way he could get out carrying someone.
He looked at the girl, trembling and moaning in pain.
He kicked the beam to see if it would shift.
It did not.
Too heavy.
Desperate and unable to think of anything else, Renato grabbed the beam with his bare hands and positioned himself beneath it, supporting the entire weight on his back.
The fire burned him.
He felt the skin on his back peeling away from the flesh and sticking to the wood.
He used every ounce of strength he had left.
He grunted.
Groaned.
Screamed.
His whole body burned.
His eyes filled with tears and dust.
He failed to hold his breath and inhaled the scorching air filled with smoke, ash and sleeping gas.
With one final effort he screamed until his throat hurt.
At last the beam collapsed to the floor.
Renato collapsed with it.
He crawled to Jéssica across the boiling floor while drops of molten PVC fell on him.
The girl, even unconscious, cried in pain and called Mical's name.
Renato stood up.
He lifted her in his arms.
Her soft scent of roses brushed his nose.
His legs moved forward powered by pure hatred until he stumbled out of the house.
The moment he placed Jéssica beside the other two girls, Renato collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Behind them, the house burned like a blazing fireball in the night.