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My boss chuckled in that dark, menacing tone from my nightmares. “Never thought I’d let someone draw on my face like this, Tess. Especially not you.”
“You’ve always had a flair for the dramatic as long as I’ve known you… but this certainly was unexpected.” That’s what he wanted to hear, but the truth was nothing he did surprised me anymore. He was an opportunistic asshole with no qualms or morals whatsoever, and everyone was terrified of him.
If Ivan had ever been in love, it was with my witchcraft. I doubted he was capable, though. As I worked, a faint aura of magic emanated from the ink, and it seeped into his skin. The room felt charged after hours of using the enchanted ink, and the air crackled with power.
His wicked grin full of sharpened teeth no longer made my skin crawl, but only because I was numb to it now. “You know why I want this. The fear it’ll inspire in people...”
I nodded knowingly, my movements fluid and precise as I continued to tattoo Ivan’s face, ignoring all the discomfort in my head and gut. I knew all too well about the evil parasitic energy residing in him, feeding off negative emotions. He was proud enough to tell me all about how he sought out the wraithshade and never regretted the move.
Personally, I’d never invite a demonic parasite to become a part of me, no matter the so-called super power ‘benefits’. Those things attached themselves and fed off of you and the people around you. They blocked out empathy for people who had it, and encouraged aggressive behavior even if you weren’t already inclined toward violence.
“I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
He laughed. “I have no doubts. The rewards here... they outweigh any risk. If there are any risks.”
My chest tightened slightly. I knew the depths of evil within him, and with the insatiable hunger for pain and fear, he was getting more and more terrifying every day. However, when you lived with terror daily, you learned to push past it, so it didn’t stop me and my mouth.
“Just remember, Ivan, power comes with a price. And not all debts can be repaid.”
His laughter faded as he met my gaze, a flash of uncertainty crossing his features. But then, as if shrugging off any doubts, a wicked grin spread across his painted face.
“Let them come, Tess. Let them all fear me. I revel in their terror. It will give me an advantage in the Devil’s Delirium this year.”
My jaw tightened, gripping the tattoo gun firmly as I finished the final strokes on Ivan’s face for the day. He hadn’t mentioned taking part in the games before.
Every year, the supernatural boss held the Devil’s Delirium. He was a relative newcomer, having challenged the last boss and won five years ago. They were usually magic users, but he was a dragon shifter. He had brute strength and resistance to magic.
Devil’s Delirium was a battle to the death in a haunted house—actually, an enchanted building designed to resemble a haunted mansion. The winner, besides the wads of cash, was crowned “Beast of Blood Moon” and always ended up with lucrative jobs and business deals because they were automatically so popular. There was only one winner out of a hundred, so there was a ninety-nine percent chance of death. You had to be crazy, stupid or desperate to sign up, but people did. They came from all over the country, too, every single year.
With Ivan’s transformation complete, his once plain features twisted into a grotesque mockery of a clown’s visage. He’d need a touch-up in a few weeks… if he was still alive.
I stepped back, surveying my work with both awe at my own artistry and disquiet about what he would do next. The air hummed with magic, the ink pulsing with the essence of fear it was pulling from me.
“Are you sure you want to compete this year? It’s suicide, Ivan.”
He chuckled. “It is for everyone else. Not for me. Not anymore.”
I shivered as Ivan rose from his chair, his sinister aura enveloping him as always, but then I blinked, and I was in darkness:
Ivan stands before me, sketched in ghoulish outlines in the center of an abandoned-looking room, daring me to challenge him. I strike a matchand throw it to the ground, where it blazes a straight line to him and explodes.
I shook my head back in the present, and Ivan stared at me with his creepy stalker smile. “What was it?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. Your eyes went all flickery. Tell me what you saw.”
I didn’t know how to make sense of what I saw. It seemed like I’d sent him up in flames, but why? How? “You were eating lunch, Ivan.”
He rolled his eyes. “Useless fortune teller,” he grumbled, stalking off to his office in the back of the shop.
I slumped in the chair, the weight of ten years of servitude pressing down on me like a physical force. The thought of Ivan winning the Devil’s Delirium sent a chill through my body that had nothing to do with the shop’s air conditioning. If he emerged victorious, his cruelty would know no bounds. The wraithshade within him would feast on the fear and pain of the other contestants, growing stronger with each victim. And when he came out unstoppable, I would be right there beside him, forced to watch him continue to feed on more and more victims, forever unable to stop it.
My stomach churned with guilt as I realized the role I’d played in his transformation. It was my presence that continued to feed him for the past decade, and it was my enchanted ink that would help feed his wraithshade and fuel his malevolence. I’d told myself I had no choice, but deep down, I knew better. I could have refused, could have tried to run. Instead, I’d given up, resigned myself to this half-life of fear and subservience instead of accepting death. Now, the consequences of my choice threatened to spill over, affecting not just me but countless innocent lives.
The thought of entering the Devil’s Delirium terrified me to my bones. Pretty much a guaranteed death, people said. But as I sat there, trembling in the aftermath of my vision, I realized that staying here, continuing this existence under Ivan’s thumb, was its own kind of death. At least in the competition, I’d have a chance—however slim—to put an end to this nightmare. And if I failed... well, at least it would be over.
A tiny spark of hope flared in my chest at the thought of freedom, quickly tempered by fear and doubt. But I couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through me at the mere possibility of a life without Ivan’s looming presence. It was a long shot, a desperate gamble, but it was the only shot I had.
