Mike stared at Kelsey.
Her skin turned snow white. Her irises shifted to a blood-red eclipse, pupils expanding like dripping ink. Her hair darkened, turning pitch black as if soaked in oil.
Grotesque claws extended from her fingertips. A twisted grin formed on her face as Mike instinctively stepped back.
"What's wrong, my love? Don't recognize me?" she purred. "How about a kiss to celebrate our reunion?"
A forked tongue slithered from her mouth, licking up her lips to the bridge of her nose.
"That is not your wife. That is an ancient witch. Kill her now!!"
Bahamut's voice exploded in Mike's mind.
The horror in her form—and that voice—made Mike tremble. Sweat streamed down his face. A wave of nausea rose from his gut.
Hunter shouted, "Mike! That is not your wife! We need to kill it!!"
"Kill it now!!" Bahamut roared again.
The creature let out a sickly, delighted laugh as she dislocated her thumbs and easily slipped from the restraints. She stood with the same unnerving grin.
Mike couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
He'd just touched her face. Just heard her voice.
He'd just gotten her back.
A roar of unfiltered pain erupted from his chest, shaking the walls. Hunter froze. The witch licked her lips, delighted.
Mike's eyes burned red. Tears ran down his face.
"I must say, Mike," she cooed, looking him over, "you've filled out nicely. All those muscles..."
She ran a hand up her side, slow and seductive.
"It makes me tingle."
"Who are you? What did you do to her?" Mike growled, his voice cracked and trembling.
She looked at herself and laughed. "Well, there's no use pretending. I've had some work done." She gestured mockingly at her body. "So I guess there's no point hiding it anymore."
"I am Hecate," she announced. "And I'm the one currently inhabiting your precious beloved."
"Poor thing thought you'd died. Gave in fast. Signed a contract with me," she said, her tone full of venomous delight. "Luckily for you, necromancy's a bit of a hobby. I encapsulated her soul before it could leave her body."
Still smiling, she caressed herself and sighed. "I like to keep a collection of pets... to play with when I'm bored. And she—" she moaned slightly— "is going to be so much fun."
Mike's fists clenched. Blood ran from his palms, the skin tearing under the pressure.
"I'll kill you, you fucking demon witch," he snarled, stepping forward.
Hecate raised a finger, wagging it. "Eh-eh-eh. Don't get ahead of yourself, lizard dick."
Her grin widened.
"You hurt me, you hurt her."
She dragged a claw across her temple, down the side of her face. "I own you now, my dearly beloved. 'Til death do us part."
Hunter's voice rang out: "More are coming! We need to leave, now!"
Mike screamed back, "I have to save her! I just found her!"
"There's nothing we can do right now! There are too many! MOVE!"
"Kill the witch and all her bats. Your wife is gone. Attachments are weakness," Bahamut growled.
Mike let out another roar of agony, then turned and bolted, following Hunter back out of the warehouse.
Behind them, Hecate laughed hysterically.
"My man is leaving me? Where are you going, love? No cold feet before the honeymoon!"
Outside, the sounds of approaching footsteps echoed from all directions.
"Pathetic." Bahamut's voice was venom in Mike's skull.
Demons closed in.
Mike lunged at the nearest one. With a roar, he grabbed its horns and ripped it in half, showering gore across the pavement.
He buried his mind in the rage.
Kill. Rip. Tear.
Another came. He grabbed its face and slammed it into the asphalt until the skull caved in.
They kept coming. Dozens. Maybe more.
Hunter fought at his side, blade and claws working in unison, but they were surrounded.
Mike fought like a monster possessed—fists breaking bones, teeth ripping flesh. His eyes glowed like twin furnaces, casting red light into the smoke.
From the rooftop, Hecate watched the chaos, laughing, her body silhouetted in the moonlight.
Mike and Hunter were bleeding, wounds piling up.
They made it to the truck, found a narrow path through the horde.
But just as Mike reached the driver's side—
Hecate appeared.
In a blink, she slashed Hunter across the side, claws slicing deep. Her gaze never left Mike's.
"I don't think your friend supports our relationship," she said with a cruel grin. "I don't like when my man has disapproving friends."
"You can only have me."
Mike roared. "Fucking crazy bitch!"
He lunged, slamming his fist into her chest and launching her through the side of the warehouse like a cannonball.
He grabbed Hunter and threw him into the truck. Tires screeched as they sped off into the night.
In the passenger seat, Hunter gritted his teeth, clutching his side.
"Hunter!" Mike shouted, glancing over. "Hey! Stay with me!"
"I'm here," he groaned. "Get us out of the city—fast. I need to treat this. I'm losing a lot of blood."
Mike pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The truck roared.
As they escaped the burning skyline, and Hunter wrapped his wound in gauze, Mike asked, "How bad is it?"
"I'll live," Hunter replied, then smirked. "But Mike… I gotta be honest with you, man. I don't think I like your wife."
Mike let out a breath and stared out the windshield, eyes still glowing red.
"That thing is not my wife."