The creature tilted its head slowly, green eyes burning brighter as black smoke curled from beneath its armor.
Then it spoke.
Its voice was wrong.
Scratchy.
Layered.
Like several whispers speaking over one another through broken glass.
But somehow still loud enough to echo down the entire block.
"Your soul…"
The man clawed helplessly at the creature's arm.
The woman choked out broken sobs.
"…will feed Astagoth's awakening."
Its eyes ignited brighter.
Green light spread across its body in thin, pulsing veins as dark energy began pouring from the couple into the creature.
Their screams weakened instantly.
Skin paling.
Bodies trembling violently.
John's eyes widened.
"No—"
The grimoire beneath his jacket flared hot.
Then—
BOOM.
A blast of brilliant light and compressed wind slammed into the Blightcaster from the side.
The explosion hit like a truck.
The creature was ripped off its feet and hurled across the street, crashing through a parked car hard enough to crumple the entire frame.
The couple dropped to the pavement gasping.
Alive.
For now.
John moved before the dust even settled.
He burst from behind the corner at full speed, boots slamming against the pavement as wind curled violently around him.
The couple barely had time to look up before he stepped between them and the Blightcaster.
Back facing them.
Body glowing.
His eyes burned pale-blue in the darkness, sharp light cutting through the street as the grimoire floated beside his left hand, pages turning rapidly on their own.
And beneath his jacket—
His right arm blazed.
Sigils burned so bright the light bled straight through the fabric, glowing lines running from his shoulder all the way to his fingertips like molten cracks beneath skin.
The air around him vibrated.
John planted his feet.
Then shouted—
"RUN!"
The word hit like a command.
Power behind it.
Authority.
The couple flinched hard from the force of it.
"GET OUT OF HERE!" John roared without turning around.
That snapped them out of it.
The man grabbed the woman immediately, both stumbling to their feet before breaking into a terrified sprint down the opposite street.
John didn't look back.
Didn't move.
His eyes stayed locked ahead.
Because the Blightcaster was already standing again.
Slowly.
Calmly.
The wrecked car groaned as the creature pushed itself upright from the crushed metal.
Dust and smoke rolled off its armor-like body as it tilted its head slightly.
Studying him.
Green eyes glowing brighter.
The Blightcaster dusted one clawed hand slowly across its shoulder where the blast had struck.
Then looked down briefly at the scorch marks left across its armor.
Silence stretched.
The wind around John intensified, whipping his coat violently behind him as the grimoire pages turned faster and faster beside him.
The Blightcaster finally spoke.
Its layered whisper echoed through the street.
"…John Holden."
The sound of his name coming from that thing made the air feel colder.
The revenants outside the estates twitched violently, reacting to the voice like obedient animals awaiting command.
The creature took one slow step forward.
Smoke curled from its armor in long black tendrils.
Then—
"The Keeper of the Grimoires."
John blinked once.
Then sighed.
"…Wow," he said dryly. "That's dramatic."
The grimoire floating beside him flickered faintly.
John glanced at it briefly.
"Don't encourage him."
The Blightcaster's glowing eyes narrowed slightly.
John rolled one shoulder as wind continued spiraling around him.
"So what?" he continued sarcastically. "That some kind of title your psycho master came up with?"
Another step.
The creature's claws flexed slowly.
"Or are you just making this up as you go?"
The Blightcaster stared at him with open disdain now.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
Like John had somehow failed expectations he didn't even know existed.
"You know so little," it hissed.
Its voice layered deeper this time, the whispers beneath it multiplying.
The streetlights around the block flickered violently.
Black mist spread outward from beneath its feet.
"And yet…" it continued slowly, "…Silas speaks of you as though you matter."
John's expression flattened slightly at the name.
Silas.
The Blightcaster tilted its head unnaturally far.
"I do not understand it," the creature whispered.
Its glowing eyes swept over John dismissively.
"A clueless child."
Another step.
"Weak."
Another step.
"You carry power you do not comprehend."
Another step.
"And somehow…"
The creature's voice sharpened.
"…you are considered a threat."
John stared at it for a second.
Then pointed casually at himself.
"…To be fair," he said dryly, "I'm kind of winging it over here."
The grimoire flickered harder beside him.
Almost offended.
John frowned slightly at the grimoire.
"Oh come on, you know that's true."
The grimoire pulsed sharply beside him.
The Blightcaster finally snapped.
"WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!"
The screeching roar echoed down the entire street, layered voices overlapping violently as windows cracked across nearby houses.
The revenants all froze instantly.
The black mist pouring from the creature thickened around its body like smoke erupting from a furnace.
John blinked once at the outburst.
Then slowly looked at the floating grimoire beside him.
Then back at the Blightcaster.
"…It's a long story," he admitted.
For one second—
Silence.
Then the Blightcaster's entire body twitched violently with rage.
Its clawed hands spread outward as black energy exploded around it in spiraling waves.
"INSOLENT WHELP!"
The air pressure dropped instantly.
Streetlights burst overhead one by one—
POP.
POP.
POP.
Darkness swallowed the block except for the sickly green glow of the creature's eyes and the pale-blue light radiating from John.
The Blightcaster lifted one hand toward the sky—
And began chanting.
The words weren't human.
Ancient.
Broken.
Like listening to a language rot in real time.
Black fire ignited above its head.
Not normal flames.
These moved wrong.
Folding inward on themselves while expanding outward at the same time.
A sphere of burning darkness rapidly formed above the creature, growing larger with every whispered word.
The heat hit instantly.
Cold heat.
Wrong heat.
The pavement beneath it began cracking apart.
John's sarcastic expression faded immediately.
"…Oh," he muttered. "That's bad."
The grimoire beside him snapped open violently, pages flipping at impossible speed as sigils along John's right arm burned brighter.
The Blightcaster's glowing eyes locked onto him.
Then the creature raised its arm higher—
Preparing to unleash the black fireball straight down the street.
The black fire swelled larger above the Blightcaster's head, twisting violently as the creature finished its chant.
The entire street trembled beneath it.
John stared at the thing in horror.
Then looked sharply at the grimoire beside him as it pulsed violently.
"…What?" he snapped.
Another pulse.
Harder.
John's eyes widened.
"You want me to catch it?!"
The grimoire flickered again.
Insistent.
John stared at it like it had completely lost its mind.
A brief moment of silence passed between him and the floating book.
Then—
"If you're wrong about this," John hissed, "I swear I will come back to haunt you."
The grimoire pulsed once.
Almost smug.
"I don't care if you're a book!"
The Blightcaster screeched.
Then thrust its arm downward.
The black fireball launched.
The street exploded apart beneath it as the sphere of corrupted flame screamed toward John like a meteor.
No more time to think.
No more time to argue.
John planted his feet hard against the pavement and threw his glowing right arm forward.
"AHHHHH—!"
The moment the fireball hit—
BOOM.
A shockwave tore down the street.
Windows exploded outward.
Cars flipped sideways.
The impact nearly folded John in half as black fire crashed against his outstretched arm.
The sigils along his skin ignited blindingly bright beneath his jacket.
The fireball stopped.
Barely.
Hovering inches from him.
The force drove John backward across the pavement, boots carving trenches through the street as energy exploded wildly around him.
Wind spiraled violently outward.
Blue and black light collided in chaotic bursts.
The grimoire's pages whipped so fast they became a blur.
John screamed through clenched teeth as he fought to hold the attack back.
The black fire pushed harder.
Hungry.
Trying to consume him.
The veins in his glowing arm burned brighter and brighter as cracks spread through the pavement beneath his feet.
The Blightcaster's green eyes widened slightly.
Surprised.
"…Impossible," it whispered.
John's entire body shook violently under the pressure.
The energy finally broke apart in a violent burst.
BOOM.
Black fire scattered harmlessly into the sky as the opposing forces collapsed in on themselves.
John staggered backward two steps, smoke rising from his jacket sleeve as the glowing sigils slowly dimmed along his arm.
For a second—
Silence.
Then John started violently shaking his right hand in the air.
"OW—OW—OW—!"
He grimaced dramatically, flexing his fingers as if he'd grabbed a burning pan straight out of an oven.
"That hurt!"
The grimoire floated beside him, flickering faintly.
John glared at it.
"Oh don't give me that! You said catch it—not hold back a miniature apocalypse!"
Across the street—
The Blightcaster stood perfectly still.
Staring.
Green eyes wide with disbelief.
Because John Holden was still alive.
Not burned to ash.
Not consumed.
Alive.
John finally noticed the creature's expression and slowly looked back toward it.
Then frowned.
"…What?" he asked flatly.
The Blightcaster didn't answer immediately.
Its clawed fingers twitched slowly at its sides.
Smoke curled harder from its armor.
Anger.
Real anger now.
John sighed heavily and pointed vaguely toward the shattered street around them.
"Honestly," he scolded, sounding more annoyed than afraid, "do you have no control?"
The Blightcaster stared at him in stunned silence.
John gestured toward the burning wreckage nearby.
"Look at this mess. Were you raised in a barn or something?"
A dangerous silence followed.
The creature's body trembled once.
Its clawed hand slowly clenched into a fist.
The pavement beneath its feet cracked.
Its glowing eyes narrowed into slits filled with pure hatred.
"…Insolent nuisance," it hissed through gritted teeth.
The layered whispers beneath its voice shrieked violently now.
The black mist surrounding the creature thickened again—
But this time—
It looked personal.
The black mist around the Blightcaster exploded outward.
Then it lunged.
Fast enough to blur.
John's eyes widened—
"OH COME ON—!"
He twisted sideways just in time as the creature tore past him, claws narrowly missing his chest—
CRASH.
The Blightcaster slammed straight through a parked SUV, metal folding inward around its body as alarms immediately erupted across the block.
John stumbled back a step, wind whipping around him violently.
Then blinked.
"…Oh right," he muttered sarcastically to himself. "Creature of the dead. No control."
The Blightcaster ripped itself from the crushed vehicle with a furious screech.
Its glowing eyes locked onto him instantly.
Even angrier now.
"Yeah, that definitely made it worse," John admitted.
The creature lunged again.
This time with both claws extended.
John reacted instantly—
His glowing right hand snapped downward—
FWOOOM.
A burst of compressed air detonated beneath him, launching him backward in a sharp flip just as the claws ripped through the space where he'd been standing.
The pavement exploded beneath the Blightcaster's strike.
John spun once through the air before landing hard in a crouch farther down the street, one hand skidding across the cracked pavement.
Wind spiraled wildly around him as he looked up.
"…Okay," he breathed. "That one was actually kind of cool."
The grimoire flickered beside him.
John pointed at it accusingly.
"You don't get to judge me. You told me to catch death fire."
The Blightcaster shrieked again and came at him harder.
No restraint now.
Pure rage.
It crossed the distance in a blur of black smoke and claws.
John barely ducked under the first strike as the creature's arm ripped through a street sign behind him—
SCREECH.
Metal screamed apart.
John threw himself sideways, rolling across the pavement as another claw slammed into the ground where his head had been a split second earlier.
Chunks of asphalt exploded outward.
"Okay—!" John shouted breathlessly as he scrambled back to his feet. "Little busy here!"
The grimoire beside him flickered rapidly, pages whipping back and forth.
John's eyes darted toward it for half a second.
Then immediately back to the Blightcaster lunging again.
"NOPE—didn't catch any of that!"
He thrust his glowing hand outward—
FWOOOM.
A burst of pressure exploded from his palm, redirecting the creature's momentum just enough for it to miss him by inches and crash shoulder-first through a mailbox and stone fence.
John backpedaled quickly, breathing hard now.
The grimoire pulsed again.
Faster.
More insistently.
"I can't listen to all of you at once!" John snapped while narrowly sidestepping another claw strike. "One at a time here!"
The pages flipped harder.
The sigils along his arm flared brighter.
The Blightcaster recovered instantly and swung again—
John leaned backward impossibly far as the claws sliced through the air inches from his face.
"WHOA—!"
He kicked off the pavement with another burst of compressed air, flipping backward over a parked sedan as black mist exploded across the car roof where he'd just been.
The creature followed relentlessly.
No pause.
No hesitation.
Just fury.
John landed awkwardly on the other side of the vehicle and immediately had to duck again as the entire car was hurled at him.
"…That seems excessive!" he yelled.
The grimoire flickered sharply beside him again.
John pointed at it while running.
"I'm dodging for my life right now, timing is important!"
John slid backward across the hood of a wrecked car as another blast of black mist tore through the street where he'd been standing moments earlier.
The Blightcaster shrieked in fury and lunged again.
Relentless.
John hit the pavement hard, rolled beneath a swipe of claws, and came back up breathing heavily.
"Okay!" he snapped between breaths. "I'm running out of creative ways to not die here!"
The grimoire beside him pulsed violently.
Its pages suddenly stopped flipping.
One page held.
A symbol burned across it in brilliant gold.
John glanced at it for half a second while backpedaling.
"…That'll work?" he asked skeptically.
The grimoire pulsed once.
Firm.
Certain.
John grimaced.
The Blightcaster charged again, black smoke exploding behind it like wings as the revenants around the street screeched violently.