Chapter 12: The Battle for Natalie

My heart tightened.

On the balcony, the incense ash began to show a trail of footprints.

A man in a gray shirt appeared in my vision—his face eyeless, his head bloody, his skin ghostly pale, lips blood-red.

He looked up at the mirror on the balcony, seeming to hesitate.

The dog grew uneasy, pacing the floor, growling low in agitation.

The fur on its neck bristled, its growl a low, guttural warning that sent a chill across my arms.

I narrowed my eyes, not moving immediately.

Four charms guarded the house—if he dared enter, he would surely die tonight.

Suddenly, he looked into the room, tilting his head toward where I was.

After a glance, he stepped inside.

But I needed to wait.

Being able to ignore the mirror proved he had some power.

Soon, he bent down toward the dog, his spirit merging into the dog’s body as if sinking into a swamp.

At that moment, the dog froze, then slowly stood up on two legs, its mismatched eyes glowing eerily, walking upright like a human.

The sight was so wrong, so off, that my breath caught in my throat. The kind of thing you’d see in a nightmare and try to forget by daylight.

It pushed open Natalie’s bedroom door and slowly pulled the quilt off her body.

The quilt slid to the floor, and Natalie shifted in her sleep, unaware of the danger hovering over her.

No wonder Natalie kept having those dreams—the root cause was here.

This was a ghost borrowing the dog’s body.

Just as it bent down, about to touch Natalie, a gray light burst from her body.

The dog was thrown back, slamming into the wall.

It seemed to realize something and began running madly around the living room.

It crashed into furniture, knocking over a lamp and scattering magazines across the floor. Its howl was more human than animal, echoing with a pain that made the hairs on my neck stand up.

But I was already guarding the balcony.

As it tried to escape, my eyes shifted from round to vertical pupils, my wrist flicked, and I raised the command flag.

My sleeve fluttered without wind, and three flags floated in the air.

The light from the TV screen flickered, casting strange shadows across the walls as the flags hovered, humming with power.

Seeing it couldn’t escape through the balcony, the dog turned and tried to crash through the bathroom, the main door, and the windows, but none would open.

It crashed, bleeding from the head, and stood before me, baring its teeth, a fierce light flashing in its mismatched eyes.

Ready for a fight to the death.

The air in the room felt charged, every molecule trembling with the promise of violence.