Jake froze mid-step.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"I don't know—" she winced as the burning flared again "—just get away from me, you're making it worse."
He didn't move, hands slightly raised.
"Me? How am I—"
"I said back off!" Sarah snapped, stumbling a few steps away. Her eyes shimmered with a strange light, and the markings on her arm pulsed like a heartbeat.
Jake stepped back too, unsettled.
"Sarah… you're shaking."
"Get out of the house," she said through gritted teeth.
Then louder—raw, urgent—
"GETOUT!"
Jake took another step back, heart thudding.
"Sarah, I can't leave you like this—"
"I SAID GO!" she screamed, her voice no longer hers.
It echoed—layered, distorted, like something else speaking through her.
Jake flinched, instincts screaming to run.
He backed toward the door, eyes never leaving her.
"I'll go," he said cautiously, "but… I'll be back."
His hand gripped the handle and he turned—
A gust of wind pushed the door open.
It rushed in, cool and sharp, stirring the curtains and brushing against Jake's skin.
Outside, the air felt thick. Heavy.
Inside, Sarah dropped to her knees, gasping.
The glowing symbols faded slowly, the pain easing.
Whatever that was… it was gone. For now.
Sarah remained on her knees, breathing hard.
The pain had passed, but something inside her felt… different.
She looked down at the symbols on her arm—still faintly glowing.
"What the hell is happening to me?"
Jake gripped the handlebars tightly, the wind pressing against his jacket as he rode down the dimming road.
Evening had settled in, painting the sky with streaks of orange and deep blue.
His mind raced as fast as the bike beneath him.
What the hell was that back there?
He took a sharp turn and sped up—heading toward the one person he trusted when things got weird:
Jimmy.
The neon sign of JIMMY'S GARAGE flickered in the distance.
Jake pulled in, killed the engine, and swung off the bike.
Jimmy stepped out from the open bay door, wiping grease from his hands.
"Oi. You look like hell," he said, then paused. "This about the MILF?"
Jake gave a tired nod. "Yeah, bro."
Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "She got all freaky with you too?"
Jake blinked. "Wait—what?"
Jimmy shrugged quickly, looking away.
"Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"You got issues, man," Jake said, walking past him.
"But right now… I've got bigger ones—and I need help."
"Alright, alright, come on in. What's the problem?" Jimmy said, tossing the rag aside.
Jake followed him across the driveway and into the house.
Inside, the place had dim lighting, half-assembled gadgets cluttering the table, the scent of engine oil lingering in the air, and walls plastered with posters of cars and swimsuit models.
Jimmy cracked open a soda and tossed one to Jake.
They both dropped onto the worn couch.
Jake looked around, smirking.
"Nice place. Real classy."
Jimmy elbowed him. "Shut the hell up, mate. It's a work in progress—I just moved in two weeks ago."
He took a sip of his drink, then added with a grin,
"You should think about getting your own spot too. You not a kid no more. Let your old man have some peace and enjoy his new wifey."
Jake's expression dulled. "Oh. Yeah… Sarah."
Jimmy's grin faded.
"What's the matter?" he asked, sitting forward a little.
"Hell if I know, bro," Jake said, standing up and pacing.
"She was stumbling around in pain today… said I was making it worse or something. Told me to leave the house."
Jimmy frowned. "You notice anything weird before or during that moment?"
Jake paused, thinking.
"Now that you mention it… yeah. Her eyes were kinda glowing. And at one point, her voice—"
He looked up. "It sounded… off. Like it wasn't even her."
Jimmy's brow furrowed deeper as he stood, accidentally spilling some soda.
"Glowing eyes? Weird voice? Bro… that sounds like possession. Or some next-level arcane shit."
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't even wanna go there."
Jimmy stepped closer, face serious. "You ever watch a horror movie?"
Then—slap!
He knocked the soda from Jake's hand.
"She's either a demon… or she's turning into one."
Jake shook his head, pacing the room.
"Come on, man. A demon? Really?"
Jimmy stretched out on the couch, arms draped over the backrest.
"You said her eyes were glowing, and her voice didn't sound right. That's not normal, bro."
Jake sighed.
"I just don't wanna jump to crazy conclusions."
Jimmy glanced over at him, more serious now.
"Jake, my boy… not everything's got a neat, logical answer. Sometimes, you gotta look beyond the ordinary."
Meanwhile, back at the house—
Sarah had already shoved the journal back into the box, slamming the lid shut.
"Fuck this," she muttered, sinking to the floor. "I didn't sign up for any of this."
She ran her fingers through her hair, tugging slightly like she was on the edge of a breakdown.
The mark on her arm had faded again—gone like it was never there.
But the feeling wasn't gone.
Not even close.