The sun had barely risen when Daytona woke up with a metallic taste in her mouth. Her body trembled slightly, as if it had spent the entire night on alert, even while asleep. Martin was still asleep on the makeshift mattress on the other side of the room, his face relaxed.
But inside her, something wasn't at peace.
"Awake already… or didn't sleep enough?"
Belzebub's voice came soft, like a warm whisper at the back of her neck.
— I'm hungry — Daytona said quietly, sitting on the couch.
"Not for ordinary food. Not for bread, or roasted meat. You're feeling the true hunger, Daytona. The emptiness of living flesh."
She ran her hands along her arms, examining the skin — nothing looked different on the outside. But inside, something gnawed at her. It was as if her stomach craved something the world couldn't offer.
Martin stirred, waking up slowly.
— You okay? You look pale.
— Just tired — she replied.
Huracán came down the stairs with a cup of coffee in hand.
— How was the night after the… demonstration?
— Hard to sleep — Daytona replied. — And I'm starving. Really starving.
Huracán paused for a moment, observing her carefully.
— That was expected. After the fusion, your body starts rejecting normal nutrients. You'll need to feed… on living energy.
Martin widened his eyes.
— Living energy? Like… human flesh?
Huracán shook his head.
— Not necessarily. Vital energy can come from corrupted creatures, like the Aberrant from yesterday. Or from minor demons.
Daytona frowned.
— So I need to go hunt these things?
"Not just hunt… sniff out, attract, consume. That's your nature now."
Huracán stepped toward a wall and pulled open a hidden panel, revealing a monitor. A red marker pulsed in an area around Los Angeles.
— I detected a presence last night. Low-level, but unstable. Could be a minor demon or an uncontrolled spirit.
Daytona felt her chest lightly burn. The mark on the map pulsed as if it were linked to her heartbeat.
— I can feel it too…
Huracán nodded.
— Then go. I can't go with you, but I'll guide you. Martin can go along if he wants.
Martin stood up, his face serious.
— If she goes, I'm going.
The path led them to an abandoned junkyard on the outskirts. Stacks of vehicle carcasses, the smell of rust and burnt oil in the air. The sun was high now, but the place seemed untouched by light.
Daytona walked ahead, her senses sharp. Her body felt lighter, muscles vibrating with a quiet energy.
Martin stayed a few steps behind, eyes scanning the area.
— You sure this is a good idea?
— I don't know. But I have to do it.
"It's close. You feel it? The flesh is… calling."
Then, she saw it.
Between two stacks of cars, a figure twisted — it looked human, but the body was deformed. Arms too thin, an elongated head, translucent skin. A single black eye in the center of its chest.
Martin drew a knife, but Daytona extended her arm, stopping him.
— This one's mine.
"This… will feed you. But control yourself. Don't let the hunger guide your actions."
The creature let out a guttural sound and charged at her. Daytona didn't hesitate. In a fluid motion, her arm deformed — claws extended from her fingers, and her eyes glowed red.
She dodged the attack, spun, and tore into the creature's back with a single strike. The Aberrant dropped to its knees, screaming.
And that's when the hunger took over.
Daytona grabbed the creature with both hands and felt the flesh vibrate, pulled into her body by invisible threads. As before, the energy was absorbed, cell by cell. But this time, it wasn't smooth.
It was voracious.
Martin watched in horror. Daytona trembled, her eyes wide, veins glowing red. When it was over, she collapsed to her knees.
"You went too deep. But… don't worry. You're alive. And stronger."
— That… was more intense — she said, breathless.
Martin cautiously approached.
— You… look different. For a second… you didn't seem like yourself.
Daytona raised her head. A streak of blood ran from her lips.
— I'm hungrier now than I was before.
"That's the cycle. The stronger you get, the more you must consume."
Martin grabbed her by the shoulders.
— This will kill you, Daytona. You can't rely on it.
— I don't rely on it. I am it now.
The sky was starting to darken. The wind blew between the rusted cars.
"But you still have a choice."
Belzebub whispered, almost tenderly.
"You can master this… or be mastered. It all depends on how human you still want to be."
Daytona stood up.
— Let's go back. Before I lose control.
On the way back, as the car crossed the hills of Los Angeles, Martin remained silent. Daytona stared out the window, feeling the energy flow within her — vibrant, alive, wild.
And hunger, now, was her constant companion.
She knew this was only the beginning.
The sky over Los Angeles turned faintly orange, caught between the shadows of dawn and the promise of day. Daytona and Martin had made it back to the city after the accident, now staying in a small house left by Martin's distant relatives — a modest place, with old wooden walls and dusty windows, surrounded by a dry, neglected garden. A place forgotten by time.
Daytona woke up early. Her arm, which had been broken two days ago, now felt stronger than ever. Something pulsed inside her… something beyond flesh. Something alive.
She stepped up to the mirror in the small bathroom and looked into her own eyes. For a moment, she thought she saw a red gleam flash across her iris.
Belzebub (in her mind):
— Still not used to the power, are you, little Daytona?
She shivered but didn't scream. Not anymore.
— I thought you only spoke when it mattered — she murmured, resting her hands on the cold sink.
Belzebub:
— Waking up with a demon in your head matters. I'm just keeping the conversation alive. A strong host must understand her… tenant.
— How about the tenant pays rent? — she grumbled. — Or gives me a decent explanation of what's happening to my body?
Belzebub:
— Your body is evolving. You can now absorb energy through flesh… any flesh. This strengthens your bond with me but weakens your resistance to hunger. A small price for power, don't you think?
Daytona rubbed her face and returned to the bedroom where Martin still slept on the makeshift mattress. She watched him for a few seconds. She was afraid to talk about what she felt — afraid he wouldn't understand, or worse, be afraid of her.
Outside, sunlight finally broke through, bringing with it the sound of a waking city.
Later, in downtown Los Angeles.
Martin had insisted they go for a walk, "to clear their heads." They sat on a bench near a convenience store. He drank a soda while Daytona simply watched the passersby.
— Daytona… — Martin said, breaking the silence — you're… different.
She turned, surprised.
— What do you mean?
— Since the accident. You talk less, look at things differently. And I don't know… — he lowered his voice — sometimes it looks like your eyes glow. Like… red.
She laughed, a little nervous.
— Maybe I'm just tired. Trauma, right?
Martin nodded, but still looked unconvinced.
That's when Daytona felt it.
A smell.
Raw flesh.
It came from a nearby alley. Her stomach tightened — not from hunger… but from craving.
Belzebub (in her mind):
— You feel it, don't you? The pull of essence. The flesh that pulses. There's something there… something corrupted. Something ours.
Daytona stood up immediately.
— Bathroom break — she told Martin, who just nodded, distracted by his phone.
But Daytona didn't go to the store. She went toward the alley.
The alley was narrow, filthy, filled with open trash bags. There were flies, vultures, and… a body.
Or what was left of one.
Chunks of torn flesh scattered on the ground. Daytona couldn't tell if it had been human or not. But the smell was there, stronger than ever. And something moved behind the bags.
A creature crawled out of the shadow. It looked like a deformed human, with stitched-shut eyes, arms far too thin, and damp, greenish skin. A mouth torn open all the way to the ears.
— You shouldn't… be here… — the creature said in a dragging voice.
Daytona stepped back.
— What are you?
— I… am a failure… a rejected shell… I served… but now I'm useless…
Belzebub (in her mind):
— A body discarded by another demon. A puppet. Still clinging to hunger. Kill it. Absorb what's left. Learn from it.
— Wait… you want me to kill it?
Belzebub:
— It doesn't live. It crawls. It's just purposeless flesh. Give it a useful end.
The creature lunged, claws slashing toward her face. But she dodged — instinctively. Her body moved with inhuman precision and speed. Before she realized it, her hand had pierced the creature's chest and pulled out something that looked like a dry, throbbing heart.
The body dropped. Motionless.
Daytona panted. Blood coated her fingers. But she didn't feel disgusted.
She felt… powerful.
Belzebub:
— You're learning. Each piece you consume, you grow closer to your true form. But be warned, Daytona. The more you consume… the more the world will fear you.
She dropped to her knees.
— This can't be real… did I just kill someone?
Belzebub:
— You saved someone… the world… from something worse. Puppets always return hungry.
She stood up, wiped her hands on her jacket, and walked out of the alley. Martin stood outside the store, looking for her.
— Where were you? — he asked, concerned.
— Got sick… just had to throw up — she said, trying to smile.
He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to figure something out he couldn't quite put into words.
— Let's go home?
— Let's go.
In the bedroom. End of night.
Martin slept. Daytona sat at the window, watching the city outside.
Belzebub:
— Soon, Daytona, others like that one will come. Stronger. More prepared. You'll need to feed better. Choose wisely what you consume. Because when the real monsters awaken… there will be no turning back.
She sighed.
— So there's no going back, huh?
Belzebub:
— We're already on the path. And, believe it or not… I'm on your side.
The night was cold. But inside Daytona, something burned.