Chapter 7

The rational part of me knew it was a fabrication, a mirage constructed by a malevolent entity. I was aware that my real mother's voice would never carry through the darkened night air in such a manner. Still, the sheer force of yearning, the unfulfilled longing that surged within me, drew my gaze backward, my eyes seeking a visage that my heart so desperately craved to behold once more.

What met my gaze was a perversion of that longing a demon, masked in ivory pallor, holding a sinister scythe, swathed in tattered, abyssal attire. The eyes that gazed back at me, hollow pools of infinite darkness, transformed before my very eyes, awash with a crimson hue. Blood oozed from the creature's mouth as it contorted into a ghastly grin, a predator's smile, sharp and bloodthirsty.

"I've got you," the demon hissed, its words dripping with a cruel satisfaction. The echo of its voice held a mocking melody, a triumphant proclamation of having ensnared its quarry.

Regret surged within me like an electric shock, mingled with fear and frustration. In my moment of weakness, I had betrayed Mavka's counsel, disregarded her wisdom. Her warning had been a beacon of truth, a lifeline extended to guide me through the treacherous waters of this malevolent game.

A surge of panic coursed through me, an adrenaline-fueled realisation that my recklessness had imperiled not only my own existence but also the very essence of my being. Mavka's words rang in my ears, a somber reminder of the danger that had ensnared me.

In that instant, I understood the gravity of my folly. My soul, the essence that tethered me to the cycle of life and death, had come perilously close to being devoured. A sinking feeling of despair intertwined with a profound remorse, but it was too late the die had been cast, the consequences set into motion.

Mavka's words, her vigilant guidance, had been the lifeline I had overlooked. I had paid the price for my heedlessness, confronting the sinister visage of a demon that had successfully capitalised on my vulnerability.

The demon's visage held me captive, its malevolent features etched into my consciousness. In that dire moment, a profound realization washed over me that I was not yet fully acquainted with the boundaries of my immortality. The stakes were higher this time; the prospect of permanent death loomed ominously.

My previous resurrections, though miraculous, had been an enigma, an unknown phenomenon that defied comprehension. As the demon drew nearer, its scythe glinting malevolently, a shroud of fear enveloped me, rendering me immobile. A silent acceptance of my impending demise settled within me , achilling resignation settled within me this time, death might claim me for good .I couldn't take the risk of testing the theory I had concocted in my mind whether my immortality would also revive my soul if it got taken by the demon.

The scythe's ominous arc, poised to sever my very essence, brought the specter of oblivion frighteningly close. My limbs, heavy with terror, refused to obey my desperate bids for escape. It was as if the force of impending doom had paralyzed me, leaving me a helpless observer in my own impending demise. As the scythe's blade hovered over me, I felt the suffocating grip of dread tighten a vice that stifled my very breath.

Just as the veil of darkness seemed poised to descend, an echoing cacophony of gunshots shattered the night's eerie stillness. The sound reverberated like a clarion call, a rallying cry that cut through the paralysis that had held me captive. The demon, momentarily diverted from its malevolent intent, recoiled in fury. Its growl resonated with primal anger, its crimson gaze aflame with a frenzied rage. Those gunshots, that clarion call to my salvation, had cast a lifeline toward my deliverance.

With the demon's focus momentarily wrenched from me, a rush of freedom surged through my limbs. My muscles, once shackled by fear, now obeyed my commands. An instinctual drive to survive propelled me forward, my feet carrying me with fervent urgency. I raced to the protective shadow of Mavka, my savior, my guardian in this perilous realm. Tears streamed down my face, each drop a testament to the harrowing ordeal I had just narrowly escaped. A gratitude too immense for words welled within me, a silent hymn of thanksgiving that reverberated in my heart.

"Mavka, thank you," I choked out between sobs, my voice a tremulous whisper laden with profound relief. Her presence, her intervention, had plucked me from the precipice of doom once again.

Her lips curved into a reassuring smile, a gesture that conveyed a deep wellspring of understanding. Her hand, gentle yet firm, rested upon my head, a touch that radiated both solace and encouragement. "It's not over yet, kiddo," she declared, her voice carrying a blend of determination and cautious optimism.

"Hey, kiddo," Mavka's voice cut through the tension, her gaze momentarily locking with mine. "Could you stay here? I need to deal with this demon," she said, her fingers working swiftly to reload her guns, the air heavy with the anticipation of a battle. Her aura pulsed with a palpable bloodlust, the intensity of her purpose etched in her every movement.

I responded with a nod, a quick bob of my head to signal my understanding and compliance. My gaze remained fixed on her, a mixture of concern and trust mingling within me.

With a resolute nod of her own, Mavka turned away, her steps deliberate as she approached the looming figure of the demon. The weight of impending conflict hung in the air, the tension growing thicker with each passing moment.

As she drew closer to the demon, I watched in awe as Mavka's guns gleamed, fully reloaded and ready for the battle that loomed ahead. Her demeanor radiated a fierce determination, a force to be reckoned with. The prospect of an intense confrontation seemed to amplify her presence, her aura radiating a palpable energy that charged the very atmosphere around her.