Why do these things always happen to me?
Mochi let out a sigh full of frustration as she collapsed onto the couch. Now that her pulse had calmed down, a sting of professional guilt ran through her—amid the panic, she had completely forgotten to try sensing Ether. She had no idea whether that clown was an Anomaly or just a terrifying eccentric, but at that moment, her mind refused to process it.
"I'll tell Haruka tomorrow and let her deal with it," she muttered to the empty walls.
For now, what mattered was freedom. With her parents out of town for two days, the horizon was clear for executing her master plan, carefully designed down to the smallest detail. First came the safety protocol: Mochi moved through the house like a sentry, making sure every window was sealed and the front door securely locked. Only after confirming the outside world was shut out did she allow herself to relax.
The night officially began with the doorbell. After peeking through the peephole with suspicion—and sighing in relief when she saw it was just the delivery guy—Mochi grabbed a pizza loaded with extra cheese.
She turned off all the lights in the house, letting the dimness guide her back to her room—her personal sanctuary. There, her treasure awaited: a bowl overflowing with sweets and her new handheld console connected to the TV. She powered it on and, as she devoured her first slice of pizza, felt her thirst kick in.
That wasn't a problem. In one corner of her room stood her most prized possession: a mini fridge packed with soda, the result of an entire summer of part-time work. Mochi cracked open a can of cola, took a long drink, and let out a sigh of pure bliss.
"Absolutely delicious," she whispered, her ears twitching in satisfaction.
Knock, knock.
Mochi froze mid-bite. The dry sound of knuckles against the front door echoed through the silent hallway. Her mind short-circuited. It wasn't the delivery guy, and she wasn't expecting anyone at this hour. There was only one logical explanation in her head—one that chilled her more than any monster:
Her parents had come back.
Panic took over completely. If they caught her in the middle of that gaming-and-junk-food feast, the lecture would be legendary.
"I have to hide everything!" she hissed, moving like a whirlwind of red hair.
She silently thanked herself for having locked the safety chain—it would buy her a few precious seconds. With frantic movements, she grabbed the pizza box and tossed it into the closet. Since the smell of cheese and spices still lingered in the air, she rushed to throw the window wide open, letting the night breeze carry away the evidence. The sweets ended up shoved under the bed in a desperate attempt to hide them.
She stood still for a moment, her heart racing, waiting for the inevitable sound of her phone ringing or her mother calling from the other side of the door. She checked her screen with trembling hands…
Nothing.
No missed calls. No message saying "we're outside."
The silence that followed was even more unsettling than the knocking itself.
Confused by the silence of her phone, Mochi stepped out of her room. She descended the stairs slowly, carefully placing each step so the wood wouldn't betray her. She was halfway down when the air seemed to crack again.
THUMP, THUMP!
The blows echoed against the front door, this time with a violence that made the handrail vibrate beneath her grip. In that instant, the image of her parents shattered. There was no way they would knock like that; that sound wasn't asking to be let in—it was trying to break in.
(I won't make the same mistake again), she swore to herself, the image of the golden-eyed clown still burned into her mind.
As the pounding continued—dry, constant, rhythmic like a war drum—Mochi closed her eyes and forced her senses to expand. She inhaled deeply, searching for that invisible current of Ether Haruka had taught her to track. She tried to project her awareness beyond the wooden barrier of the entrance… but what she found made her recoil physically.
It was like crashing headfirst into a wall of black ice. A presence so vast and oppressive surrounded her that her lungs seemed to forget how to breathe. This wasn't the erratic trace of ordinary anomalies; it was dense, ancient—a void as deep as a bottomless well. And from the center of that abyss, she felt something enormous awaken… fixing its attention solely on her.
BANG! BANG!
Suddenly, the assault escalated. The impacts grew stronger, turning into heavy strikes that shook the entire structure of the house. The wood groaned, threatening to splinter under an inhuman force.
"No… this can't be…" Mochi whispered, her voice breaking.
Her survival instincts took over. She spun around and sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time as the thunder of the door echoed behind her. She slammed her bedroom door shut, locked it, and secured the latch with trembling hands.
Her heart racing wildly, she pulled out her phone and, with clumsy fingers, typed a desperate message to the only person who could help her:
〈Haruka, there's something outside. It's at the door! Help!〉
The "sent" icon blinked on the screen. Mochi didn't wait for a reply—she needed to disappear. She searched for the darkest corner of her sanctuary and slipped into the closet, curling up among her clothes, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the entrance.
There, in the darkness of the closet, Mochi held her breath until her sides ached. She curled into herself, closed her eyes, and waited.
The silence that followed the chaos below was, if anything, even more terrifying.
* * *
A few minutes earlier…
Outside the house, the figure dressed as a clown waited.
But it no longer looked human.
Its fingers were too long, bony, ending in curved black claws. The painted smile, grotesque, cracked over dry skin, revealing what looked like a second mouth: a row of crooked, sharp teeth peeking out from the corners like thorns.
It stood in front of the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
It tapped the door gently, almost politely.
It was playing the role of an unexpected visitor.
It could have torn the door down with ease. It was nothing more than a fragile wooden barrier against its strength. But… why ruin the fun?
No. It didn't want to break in and end it quickly.
It wanted her to feel it. It wanted the anxiety to grow inside her chest like a slow infection. It wanted to hear her breathing quicken, to feel her legs tremble as she stepped back. It wanted fear to wrap around her like a shroud before finally touching her.
From the moment it first saw that little "kitten," something inside it had stirred. A ravenous obsession. Her fragility. Her sweetness.
It wanted to corrupt her.
Not just devour her body.
It wanted to stain what she was. To rip away her sweetness, to twist her gentleness into something broken.
It wanted to take her. Make her its own. Break her.
Shatter her will.
And only then—only when nothing remained but an empty shell—would it devour her.
Not out of hunger.
But for pleasure.
Its smile stretched beyond what should have been possible, tearing the cracked skin of its cheeks. Between its blackened teeth, a thick strand of saliva fell.
It could feel her. She was there, on the other side.
Trembling. Trying not to make a sound.
Eager, it leaned closer… until something changed.
A tremor.
Small, almost imperceptible… but it felt it.
It frowned. Its smile vanished instantly.
The atmosphere grew tense. Something had shifted on the other side of the door.
She had sensed it.
For a moment, it stood completely still, its gaze fixed on the wood.
She was no longer just a frightened prey.
That awareness reaching through the door—though invisible—felt sharp. It wasn't the panic of a cornered girl.
It was something else.
"Tch…" it clicked its tongue in irritation.
She wasn't an ordinary human.
No. No.
That girl… she was sensitive to Ether. She was trained.
She was no longer a simple doll to break.
She was a threat.
And then it understood.
"Of course…" it murmured. "Tricky little kitten…"
It stepped back, tilting its head slightly, like a predator realizing its prey wasn't as defenseless as it had seemed. Its golden eyes flickered with a mix of irritation and desire.
She was connected to them.
To the hunters.
It knew the moment it felt that awareness.
She was a potential threat.
And that changed everything.
The game was over. There was no more time to savor her fear. If the girl asked for help—if she sent even a single message—those damned hunters would come for it. And then, it wouldn't just lose its prey…
It looked at the door again with contempt.
An obstacle.
And it hated obstacles.
"Very well, brat…" it whispered, its voice dropping into a darker tone. "If you want to die like a hunter… then you'll die like one."
Its body tensed. A wave of dark energy coursed through its veins, slightly warping its silhouette. Muscles bulged beneath the tattered clown costume. Its skin creaked. The seams of its outfit stretched to their limit.
And then it struck.
BAM!
A dry explosion echoed through the entire block. The wood trembled, groaning, splintering—until, with a sharp crack, the hinges gave way. The door collapsed inward, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
Darkness greeted it.
All the lights were off.
It stepped inside without haste, inhaling the air of the house. It could smell her. Feel her presence.
Not precisely.
But it knew she was there.
It climbed the stairs without making a sound, almost as if it were floating. The second-floor hallway was narrow. Several doors were slightly ajar.
Only one was closed.
There she was.
It stopped in front of the door. Said nothing.
It placed a hand on the handle.
Applied just a bit of pressure.
Crack.
The lock gave way with a snap.
And the door slowly opened, creaking as it slid.
The room was wrapped in darkness.
Only a faint night breeze slipped in through the open window, gently swaying the curtains.
The prey was close. Very close. It leaned in cautiously.
Nothing.
Not a soul.
But it could feel her. She was there. Very close.
Its prey was still in the room.
It crouched down and looked under the bed.
All it found was a bowl overflowing with sweets.
It grimaced in disgust.
"Hmph… seriously?"
It straightened slowly, its gaze sweeping across the room until it settled on the last possible place: the closet.
The only remaining hiding spot.
Its smile widened—twisted, sadistic.
"Looks like your time is up, little kitten…" it whispered mockingly, letting its claws scrape lightly against the wood.
Then, with a sudden yank, it flung the closet doors wide open, expecting to find her curled up inside, trembling.
FLOP!
Something warm, wet, and sticky flew straight into its face.
It splattered across its eyes, blinding it for a moment.
Cheese.
Melted cheese.
"YOU DAMN BRAT!" it roared, staggering backward as it wiped its face furiously with its forearm. "What the hell…?!"
And in that instant, Mochi leapt out from inside the closet.
Her heart pounded like a drum against her chest. She was terrified. Her whole body trembled.
But she couldn't hesitate.
There was no time to think.
With a cry, she raised her right fist and threw it with all her strength toward the clown's face.
In her mind, only one word echoed:
Hit him!
Hit him!
HIT HIM!
It was her only chance.
But he reacted.
He leapt back with agility. Mochi's fist sliced through the air, barely missing his face.
And then they stood there—face to face.
Only a few steps separated them.
Mochi felt the courage she had gathered collapse in an instant.
I missed…
But in that moment…
Something changed.
Her weapon—the knuckle dusters Haruka had given her—began to glow.
A dense, thick mist swirled around her fist.
She felt an unknown force surge through her arm. And then, without understanding how, that energy burst forward like a shot.
A solid, fast-moving shadow erupted from her punch.
CRACK!
The sound was wet. Revolting.
The anomaly's face snapped violently to the side, with a crack that echoed like bones breaking under pressure. It staggered backward, lost its balance…
And fell.
Its body was launched out the second-floor window, spinning through the air like a rag doll before crashing onto the asphalt with a heavy thud.
"AGHHH!" it screamed from below, a horrifying shriek. It began to move, struggling to get up, cursing in fury as it partially recovered its blurred vision from the cheese.
It raised its head toward the window.
It saw something.
A silhouette.
Something large… something barely leaning out…
But it didn't have time to react.
CRUUUNCH!!
What fell on it was a block of metal.
A mini fridge.
The faithful companion Mochi had worked an entire summer to buy… slammed into its skull with brutal force. The sound was sharp. Final.
This time, the monster didn't scream.
Its body trembled… and began to dissolve.
Thick, black bubbles emerged from its flesh as it melted into a puddle of dark sludge that slowly faded into the pavement. A few soda cans rolled out, lightly clinking against the sidewalk.
* * *
Mochi leaned out the window, her heart pounding furiously.
Her eyes fixed on the scene below.
The sludge. The cans. The puddle slowly disappearing.
My poor mini fridge… crushed, sacrificed in battle, Mochi thought.
She sighed, with the sadness of someone losing a loyal comrade.
"Rest in peace, partner…"
Then she frowned, realizing something important.
"How the heck am I going to explain this to my parents?"