I didn't sign up for this shit.

When someone dies, they die. Isn't resurrecting someone against their will, like, a total breach of privacy? Ever heard of a little something called "consent", Eliza? It's not like she'd care if I brought it up anyway. Ever since her little ex-boyfriend disappeared from that facility, she's been hellbent on finding his whereabouts these days. All she talks about is find Diamondback this, find Diamondback that. It's been -- what -- seven years already? You'd think she'd take the hint and give up, but nothing stops that woman when she's deadass about something. Shit, maybe he doesn't want to be found. If it were me, I wouldn't. It's not like there's anything left of Zypher anymore. That guy's dead. It's just Diamondback now. Still, Eliza doesn't care.

And apparently to her, I'm the only one she trusts to find him.

Beautiful.

I get it, I have black magic too, but that doesn't mean shit. It's the same thing as saying: "Oh, your favorite color is yellow? His is too! You guys are totally one in the same!" Fuck that, man. I don't want to get caught up in that mess again. There are better things I could be doing like drunk karaoke or seducing bouncers to let me into bars or getting stoned out of my mind and watching reruns of unfunny sitcoms I don't even like. I've got parties to get to, man! Nightclubs that are calling my name!

Look, my point is: There are plenty of other people to send!

There's Nick. He's got a way better head on his shoulders than me.

What about Kris? Her big brain could solve anything that's thrown her way.

Triana? Sure, she's a bit of an ass, but at least she can pack a fuckin' punch. (Trust me...I would know.)

And Mark -- well. Yeah, I understand not sending him. That handwringer practically carries a whole world of anxiety on his shoulders.

So it's just me and Al. Eliza allowed me to take one person on the recon mission and Alan was an obvious choice. He's sensible and reliable for someone who's only just recently turned twenty-two and he practically exists in polo shirts and corny dad hats, so his existence is quite literally the definition of solace. Even if nagging comes second nature to him, he's a good friend to me. We're close. Or as close as I'll let anyone get to me anyway.

Today, Al and I have to dig up info on Diamondback. The only place I thought to look was his old, busted up house. Over the years, it's decayed even further to a mass of wood and mold and rodent shit. It feels wrong to try to call it a house anymore.

"Oni," Alan called behind me as we walked up to the sorry excuse of a door. "Are you sure we can find anything here? It's okay if you want to leave, y'know."

"I'll be fine, Al," No, I won't. And Alan knows that. From the way he pursed his lips, holding in what was probably some sort of complaint, I could tell. Masking my own growing grimace, I forced a smile and a playful nudge. "Besides, I've got you here, Mr. Lightning Man. You watch my ass, I'll watch yours."

"Don't...watch my ass, please."

Only a slight tap of my finger against the door had it timbering down off its hinges. The scent of blood and dust flooded out the dark entrance, attacking my pierced nostrils with a lasting stinging sensation. God, it reeks. The last time I've ever smelled something this bad was that night Mark discovered he was allergic to avocados.

Alan cleared his throat, tears prickling in the corners of his amber eyes. "Smells...great," he choked out behind a shaky grin. "Let's make this quick, shall we?"

Venturing even deeper into the dump of a home, the furniture seemed to have been tossed violently around in a fit of rage. The red velvet couch was practically torn to shreds with the white fluff of the cushions decorating whatever was left of the rotting carpet. Blood smeared the walls and floors, leading into an entirely demolished kitchen. Judging from the pungent smell emanating from the fridge, I didn't even wanna think about what could be sitting in there. The bathroom was blocked off entirely by what I guessed to be a chunk of the ceiling that must've crashed down. All that was visible from where I stood was broken, bloodied glass shards scattered across the tile. The blood trail from the living room dragged further and further into the house until it reached the only room that remained intact.

Zypher's room.

Written across the top of the door frame was his infamous curse.

"'Through human contact is the only way to end your contract,'" Alan read aloud. "Jeez, whatever happened to that?"

Yeah, whatever fucking happened to that.

"Oni?"

It wasn't the black magic that turned him into "Diamondback." If it was, I wouldn't be here, still sane and sexy and normal. It was just Eliza's stupid mistake.

"Oni, you're spacin' out on me, bud. You sure you're okay?"

"Huh? Y-Yeah. Sorry. Just thinking."

We both continued to stare intensely at the phrase.

"It doesn't make any sense," Al finally spoke again. "His human contact should've saved him."

"But they didn't."

"I'm not stupid, I know that much. We wouldn't be here if they did. Just makes you wonder what happened to 'em."

"They died."

"Shit..."

"Poor bastard killed himself."

"For real?"

"Wish I could say I was lying."

Alan eyed me, a mixed look of shock and disappointment pulling at his features. "You could sound more like you care."

"I do care. It just happened a long time ago, y'know? Old wounds gotta heal sometime."

He only sighed, folding his arms across his broad chest. Guess that means I'll be hearing more about this when we get back home.

The blood trail disappeared right below the open attic. Its unreachable door was nowhere in sight. Even the rickety ladder was gone. A visible black odor poured out of the ominous opening. Nothing screams "investigate me" like a scary secret room.

Al had given me a boost up into the attic and (surprisingly) I was able to lift up that muscle mass of a man too. The floorboards creaked underneath our shoes, threatening to give way if we weren't careful about our next moves.

No more boxes.

No more half-eaten bodies.

What the hell?

A crackling sound sizzled behind me.

Oh thank God. That's just Alan trying to bring more light into the room. A mini bolt of lightning swirled around his hand, acting as a faux torch. I couldn't be more grateful to have his comforting presence by my side right now. I think I'd die if Eliza made me do this by myself. Die as in actually go to the afterlife this time. Which doesn't sound too bad now that I think about it, but what kind of friend would I be if I left Al behind?

The black odor was bleeding out from the back of the room. Alan's shaking hands had our source of light flashing in and out. Despite his relatively calm poker face, overwhelming fear was dreadfully apparent in his eyes.

"Al, you can stay here while I go check it out."

"No, I'm coming with you. You're my best friend, Oni," He placed a steady hand on my shoulder. "I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

A red flush crept up my neck.

Goddammit.

All those corny dad hats must be getting to his head.

After taking a few deep breaths together, Al and I crept towards the source of the odor. The magic aura in the room was practically bursting at the seams. No normal person could hold that much power within them. Eliza regards me as one of her greatest black magic users but even my abilities couldn't compare to whatever the hell I was facing.

Scribbles of an unknown language led up to the back wall.

Alan gasped, clasping his own hand over his mouth.

I have to look up too, don't I?

A dark, disturbing incantation was drawn onto the wooden wall.

But that's not what had the blood rushing out of my body.

Pinned to the wood in the middle of the incantation was an obscured corpse. Their stomach had been violently torn out by hand so that the rest of the incantation could be seen right through them. A swirling spring of magic spilled out from their nonexistent abdomen. Their arms had been dislocated and twisted. Just looking had my own shoulders aching in shared pain. But their legs were gone. Ripped off, really. No blood dripped out anymore. The body was too old and long gone to hold any fresh fluids. Flies and spiders nipped away at whatever was left of their mangled form. Their head was smashed in, making their face nearly unrecognizable. But not entirely.

I could smell his overchewed cinnamon gum from where I stood. I could feel the rough pads of his greedy fingers and the prickling roughness of his gray beard. I could hear his breathless whispers, tainting whatever was left of my withering consciousness.

"Mr. Davis..."

Alan swallowed thickly. "You know him, Oni?"

"Yeah, he was a math teacher at Roseorn High a few years ago," I never noticed how dry my throat had become until now. "Who woulda thought Dibs would get his hands on him."

Messily carved into Mr. Davis's chest were three words:

The Red Gate.

Wait a second.

"Alan, this incantation. It's a sort of vessel spell."

"The hell does that mean?"

"I'm not too sure. But I think he's using Mr. Davis's body as a gateway to 'the red gate.' Whatever that entails."

Alan's eyes lit up as if a lightbulb had just clicked on in his head. "That's why we couldn't find him. That could be where he's hiding."

"Or scheming. Zypher's brain is totally detached from his body now and y'know what it is that monster wants to do?"

"Eat and kill and eat and kill and eat and kill."

"Exactly. Roseorn might be in some serious danger, Al."

Another unspoken lightbulb clicked on in both of our heads. That oncoming danger that Eliza had said she was training us for. That oncoming danger that Eliza had said she was protecting Roseorn from.

It was Zypher.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.

She knew what was going to happen and knew she couldn't stop it. When he failed to stop himself, she resurrected us six as her monster exterminators to put an end to what she and Zypher couldn't. To put an end to what I wasn't strong enough to stop from spiraling out of control.

"We should go tell the others," Alan breathed shakily. "Eliza would want to know."

"Yeah, she would..."

If we find this red gate and if we find Zypher...what would Eliza want us to do? Kill him? There's gotta be some other way.

Fuckin' hell.

It looks like everything's up to me again.