A powerful incense hit my senses, as I entered the dark, candle lit apartment. It was filled with lit candles throughout the otherwise barren and drab emptiness, lining the hallways and up against the brick interior wall in the living room. They glowed faintly and ominously, almost luring me through the apartment in a trance. I examined the small bathroom, and the cracked walls of each room, in a dull haze, unable to process what was even occurring in my own mind.

  “What is this?” I asked, my brain still foggy as I slurred my words, looking around at the empty space, and unable to flash back any memories within its walls.

  “Oh Miss Crowley,” Winston said, his tone shifting menacingly. “The one that got away. Mr. Perrault will be thrilled to see you again.”

  “Perrault?” I repeated, his name slithering out of my mouth like food from an engorged snake, while my eyes widened with recognition at the name he said. My name. “I—I--,” I stuttered, “My name 's Kensie, remember? You're mistaken.”

  “No need to play coy any longer,” Winston grinned, his yellowed teeth glowing and cutting through the darkness. “We've both dropped the facade now. What a web you've stumbled into little fly. You haven't a clue what's taking place. The spell you're under. Once you passed through those doors downstairs, the barrier, you lost everything. Those blood candles only further disorient your lapsed state. Oh, to have all that unbridled power, and no mind to use it,” he cackled.

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  Suddenly, I noticed that the candles were glimmering with a crimson flame all throughout the red tinted apartment.

  “You've been here for hours, my dear, unaware of the world's machinations for you,” he continued on. “But that ends now.”

  The front door creaked loudly down the hall, screeching with malicious intent. A long shadow cast down the wall, monstrous, as a slender figure approached.

  The flickering lights slowly illuminating a horrific cheshire grin on the white powdered face of the sadistic Hugo Perrault, sending shivers down my spine, my legs wobbling weakly. The polka dots on his suit enveloped me in the abyss, just like the blackness of his all-consuming and unhinged eyes as they lay affixed on me, a modern day Nosferatu. The Mad Harlequin himself.

  Terror wound tightly in my chest, as I backed up step by step, while he approached in suit, his hands raised with villainous intent, ready to snatch and grab when the opportunity arose.

  “There's no need to worry, Miss Crowley,” Winston said, readjusting his glasses. “Mr. Perrault is just retaking what is rightfully his. Had we known what you were beforehand, we wouldn't have left this in lesser hands. Things have changed though, and you are worthy of his grace.”

  I mumbled incoherently, while trembling, trying to will forward my powers, but unable to invoke anything.

  “Doubtful you've ever seen a soul devoured?” Winston said.

  I bumped back into a brick wall beside a window, as Perault approached. No escape this time, while I remained frozen in fear.

  Perrault grew close, his hands blackening with a soot like aura growing from them, transforming into a hardened form like obsidian, jagged knife-like claws protruding from his hands, as he brought the sharpened tip of a claw up to my chin. I let out a single sob, as he traced it down my shirt to my chest and looked back up at me with a crazed grin, his eyes near exploding from their sockets.

  “But I assure you...” Winston continued, with an evil smile all his own, “It will be quite painful.”