Duke Wulf steps through the newly formed hole in the carriage. It’s only after the last of the fire fades that she realizes there’s something horribly wrong. Instead of sunlight, a brighter darkness fills the coach. It’s as if nighttime has descended, lit only by the moon.

It should be early afternoon.

Before she can ask about it, something dark wraps around the duke and yanks him out of sight like a cartoon character leaving the stage. It would be comical if she wasn’t so scared.

“Duke!” she cries, moving after him before she can think about it.

She stumbles out on uneven grass as the heels of her shoes try to sink into the ground. The dirt road the carriage was on is still in sight. Something must have caused the carriage to go careening off into the woods.

She spies the duke’s red cape moving deeper into the trees from what little light streams through the forest. She follows after, an instinctive fear driving her mindlessly. For herself or her companion, she doesn’t know.

Beneath the trees lie shadows of pure darkness. She doesn’t notice the huge eyes staring at her, doesn’t notice the boulder of white skin and the black tendrils swirling around it like water’s movement.

She stops as soon as it registers in her brain.

There, in the middle of the forest, is a woman’s head hovering in the air, neck unattached to anything; the enormous head is taller than even the duke, who is caught in its writhing, long black hair.

Heads need bodies, her brain thinks hysterically.

“Saintess, there you are,” the head says, corpse-like lips twisting into an ugly smile.

“I heard you finally came out of hiding.” A tendril of hair snakes around a tree. “Let me taste your flesh!”

Overwhelming terror freezes her to the spot. She’s never felt this before, never felt like she’s standing in the presence of death. All she can do is shake.

“Your opponent is me,” Duke Wulf growls. He manages to get a hand around the tendril holding him, and red flames light up beneath his palm. The hair burns away, freeing him. The head lets out a monstrous hiss.

“Run!” His voice snaps her body into motion. Her legs move in the opposite direction, back towards the carriage. A black lock of hair trips her before she can get very far. Rocks and twigs dig into her hands as she scrambles to get back up.

She can’t think, can’t scream. Her body moves entirely on the need to get away and survive.

Furious shrieking and demonic laughter fill the air behind her; the sounds urge her forward. The part of her that isn’t concentrating on moving worries about which one belongs to the duke. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t notice the shadow that follows her, moving from one patch of darkness to the next. She doesn’t see the sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light.

The overturned carriage comes into sight, and she almost sobs in relief. It’s not a good hiding spot—she’d know this if she was in her right mind—but it’s the only thing her instinct driven brain finds suitable.

Where did the horses go, something inside her whispers. That voice is quickly buried deep beneath the one screaming at her to hide. She’ll hide in the carriage, blocking the hole with whatever luggage she can grab. There she will remain silent and wait until…until.

Hide first, figure things out later, she tells herself.

Safety is in reach when a harmony of low, inhuman growls starts up behind her. She throws herself to the side, and a large, dark shadow rams into the carriage. A sharp, metallic screech rings in her ears, and she scrambles to get to her feet.

Her ankle twists, leaving her on the ground to stare up at the thing that just tried to kill her. It’s as big as the carriage beside it with claws as long as her arm. The creature resembles a wolf with thin, dark fur covering its muscular body, and its deformed snout holds three sets of teeth, each dripping with a dark liquid.

She scrambles wildly backwards, unable to get far before the creature lunges at her with mouths wide open. A pillar of fire appears out of nowhere and the bottom mouth disappears in a fountain of blood. There’s a loud smack, and the creature goes flying away from her.

Red, so much red.

Looking up, she realizes it’s the color of a familiar cape. Duke Wulf stands before her, and the pillar of fire that saved her is clutched in his hands. She takes in the pillar’s shape and sharp edges, the glowing sigils that swirl around it.

Not fire, she thinks, but a glowing sword.

“Come at me!” Duke Wulf roars.

The wolf-like creature leaps at him with two different sets of howls, and she can only watch as the two of them seem to dance in the sword’s eerie red glow.

When the duke manages to slice the creature’s head from its neck, she thinks it’s over. Then, to her horror, the body continues to fight, sharp claws coming for the duke as if the lack of brains or eyes doesn’t matter.

The duke laughs manically before cutting off the headless body’s legs one by one. When there are none left, the duke raises his sword and thrusts down into the remaining flesh with a howl not unlike the one the creature made.

Duke Wulf turns to grin at her before looking up at the sky, and his yellow eyes glow brighter than the moon that hangs there. She can’t help thinking—

He really is a demon.

Even with the creature now dead, terror still constricts her heart. She’s never felt like this, never experienced anything more than traversing a dark parking lot by herself.

The duke licks his lips and turns that gaze to where she ran from. “Get up, Saintess. The other one is here.”

The words chill her to the bone, but she still can’t move no matter how much she tries. She can only stare at the lump of flesh that belonged to the creature that attacked her. She screams silently in her head.

“Saintess, get behind me.”

Black wriggling strings appear in the corner of her vision. The overwhelming dread she felt earlier returns. She’s going to die because her body won’t move.

“Aira, move!” Duke Wulf barks at her, and his sword comes straight for her face.

She rolls out of the way and sees the duke cut off the tendril of hair aiming for her head. Duke Wulf cuts through every strand of hair that slithers close to her, and she gathers enough courage to crawl behind him.

“Tasty pieces of meat, juicy and fresh, just stand there like the pigs you are,” an inhuman voice taunts them from the darkness.