Arielle wanted to pretend like Penny's taunts had no effect on her, yet with every sneaky sentence out of her mouth, she paralyzed her. This was Penny—the creature that haunted Jade, that bullied Stella, that killed Arielle. And she floated overhead in absolute calmness, aware of her dominance, aware of her excess of knowledge that would easily overpower Arielle should she try anything. Aware of her deadly claws and her ridiculous strength.

I'm useless.

"Okay, then... tell me this: why are you killing humans? Why Jade, why Stella, why me? And... how?" She gulped; in truth, she wasn't sure if Penny had anything to do with Jade's suicide or Stella's house-fire, but the signs seemed to point at her being the culprit.

Penny scratched at her chin with the tip of her gruesome claws. "Don't flatter yourself; you were random. Wrong place, right time, I suppose?" She pursed her lips, gaping out the window above the door. "And how, you ask? A special talent of mine. I'm an evolved being, after all, not a simple ghost like you or Penelope. Though she has developed her own abilities in time, but I... am more powerful."

"Fine, but why? Why kill?" Arielle squinted up at the monster, worried she'd suddenly drop and slash through her face with her talons. "For amusement? Or do you have... an actual purpose?"

Penny lowered her chin and sneered. "Balance. My realm needs souls, and the Void rarely coughs them up, since most specters find their unfinished business, at some point, and swim on to that other dimension. And most don't trespass into the zones outside of their perimeter, which means they don't trigger the alarms to draw me here. But I... need them. I need souls."

"Your realm?" Arielle shivered, wishing she didn't know what was coming, wishing she hadn't already identified the answer.

"Terror, of course. Penelope mentioned it, didn't she?" Penny pirouetted, pride in her demeanor, an ominous glow in her features. It was clear she loved her dimension.

"She did, but... she didn't seem too keen to talk about it." Arielle scoffed. "To be honest, she didn't seem keen on talking about anything. Always so vague... but yes, she mentioned Terror." She recalled how Penelope had flinched, how she'd dodged deep questions, how she always rushed off when Arielle needed her most. And this whole time, she knew. Penelope was friends with the disgusting demon that had murdered Arielle, and she'd lied about it.

Penny's posture shrank as she gripped the banister. "Penelope is a breed of her own. But she and I have agreements, and her end of the bargain is to deliver to me the souls she thinks are... defective."

"Defective?" Arielle placed a hand over the left side of her chest and inhaled. "Am I... am I defective?"

"She wouldn't have summoned me if she didn't think so." Penny's lips twisted into an eerie, almost hungry smile, as if her tongue would soon swirl out and wrap around Arielle and drag her into her mouth to be devoured. "And defective means they don't quite fit in the Void, and they don't seem too open to the idea of that other realm." She flinched and made a face, as if she'd swallowed a nasty dose of medicine and struggled to let it swish down her throat. "The issue is... my current defective souls are fighting me. Fighting the realm. Learning how to fix themselves, and understanding the realm better than they should. Meaning I need more to counter-attack them, to ensure they stay where they belong. With me."

Despite the fear coursing through her veins and causing her to shiver uncontrollably, Arielle was relieved to finally receive some answers. Penelope had kept her mouth sealed, but Penny, the horrifying evil entity, was communicating.

No matter what happens to me, at least I won't be as clueless.

She wasn't sure why Penny was giving her all this information, but she'd keep pushing until the end, slurp up as much information as she could. "What is Terror, though?"

Sighing, Penny crossed her arms. Her talons curved, bending and swaying, as if breathing. "From what I gather, Penelope explained to you that Heaven and Hell weren't real... but Terror is, in its own way, a version of Hell. It's not a place of rest; it's a place of constant torment where the souls are put to the test and battle to survive. Because if they give in... if they succumb to the realm's fires, they go mad."

Arielle shook her head, eyes narrowed, brows scrunching. "Go mad? Torment? What did these people do to deserve that?" She expected to hear that murderers and criminals populated Terror, and yet something told her it wasn't so simple. Penny plucked specters from the Void at her leisure, and she likely preferred to persecute the innocent over the evil, which fit her petrifying persona.

"They pushed." Penny's pupils flashed a rich red as she smirked. "They taunted, asked too many questions, refused to accept their death, etcetera. There are a multitude of reasons a soul will come to me, to serve my purpose. I don't discriminate. I only ask for the stubborn ones, because they entertain me."

If the Devil did exist, Penny would be his exact representation. Minus the horns, she had every air of a demonic creature who enjoyed abusing her subjects, and she didn't even try to hide it. She exuded the same snarky confidence and the same thirst for misery.

What a bitch.

"Terror exists to remind humans that they're not immune to nightmares, to horror." Penny shrugged as she unfolded her arms and stretched them out at her sides. "Some of my souls can cross into the living realm and... spook a few people, keep them on their guard. Those souls are the ones who were driven mad, who heed my every command and go where I tell them to. But I still have many... rebels. They refuse their ultimate transformation, refuse their goal of serving me."

Arielle's spine tingled as she exhaled. Her fingers twitched and her legs quaked as she watched her assassin gaping down at her, licking her lips, eager to take her.

What is her goal, though? There's something else she's not saying.

"You... who are you? You say you're an evolved being... but do you have a... classification? A type? Any other details you can give me?" Arielle's shoulders tensed and her stomach gurgled as she peeked at the stairs, so she gritted her teeth and returned her gaze to Penny—though that vision wasn't much better.

"Ah," Penny huffed, "there is no classification for me. Call me... an overseer, if you will. The being who monitors Terror and whoever enters it, whoever resides in it." She tipped forward, over the railing, a sinister softness in her expression. "I know you perceive nothing but malice and negative energy on me, Arielle. But I'm not evil. I serve a grander purpose, and while I may revel in blood and disarray and danger, I'm not the actual devil. That doesn't exist."

If she was trying to reassure Arielle, to better coerce her into transitioning into this new realm filled with rage and maddened souls, it wasn't working. If anything, Arielle craved the Soul Realm, at this point; a means to fall asleep and forget about all this insanity. She'd wanted answers, but she got them—and now she wanted to erase them all and start all over. It was too much, too intense, and she didn't want to be dragged into a dimension where she might lose her mind.

"Right, well... thanks, but no thanks." She sucked in her gut, straightened up, and glared at Penny. "I'd rather not join your weird little... cult? Following? I'm not interested. Can't I just... go? To the Soul Realm? I can't talk to Jade, so... consider my business half-finished? Or," she cringed, dreading her words, "couldn't I hang out here, like Penelope does? Guide other people, maybe hand over a few of the bad ones to you? Strike some sort of deal?"

Whatever softness Penny had shown seconds before vanished. Her eyes were like crimson marble, laced with thick black veins, ready to send daggers into Arielle's torso and tear through her like the mirror shards had. She grasped the banister so hard, Arielle worried it would shatter. "You don't get to choose. Penelope and I have a deal... but you cannot make the same one. You do not have options, Arielle. I smell you—you're flawed, you're delicious, and you're mine."

Arielle gagged, but nothing shot up her throat. Sweat slithered across her forehead and she sensed her limbs becoming limp... but she couldn't lose consciousness, not now. If she passed out, Penny would swoop down and snatch her up without a second glance. She'd bring her to the frightening realm where the main objective was to lose your shit and crave peril and enjoy scaring innocent individuals who didn't know better. Where the ambition was to become Penny.

"N-no," she croaked, grimacing at her far from menacing voice. "I'm not defective. I'm not... yours."

Penny perked up, releasing the railing as her claws elongated and scraped against the balcony floor. The screech of the contact—like actual nails on a chalkboard—prompted Arielle to smack her hands over her ears, but the noise remained loud, impossible to ignore.

"You are mine. And I'm giving you five minutes to figure out how to get through your perimeter limits and join me up here, or... I'll snag you myself. And that, my dear," she grinned, "will be so painful, so traumatizing, that you'll be driven insane the instant I yank you into Terror."