The reaper—still for lack of a better name, since it wouldn't provide any other way to identify it—wouldn't budge. Its dark energy wouldn't shift, wouldn't commit to anything.

It demanded negotiations before speaking any further.

The demons possessing Jessamine and Landon released them, needing to be at full strength and out in the open to better discuss terms with the black-hooded being.

All surrounding battles had been put on hold. The reaper apparently had the ability to pause events, to put everyone and everything in suspense while it organized its campaign to stay in the demonic realm. Jessamine had watched in awe as it had lifted its skeletal arms, snapped, and everything, every single thing aside from herself, Landon, and the handful of demons in the area, froze.

The reaper was stubborn. And incredibly powerful. It wanted to stay, so badly that it displayed its powers with such ease. It postponed fights, controlled most of the monsters that had gotten through the gates, and even manipulated demons into listening to its plight. No one could figure out what it was, where it came from—but they all sensed its strength and all but bowed before it.

Its promises were enticing to the demons, Jessamine knew. But the demons were inquisitive creatures, and they'd want more answers before giving their definitive answer.

In Jessamine's experience, from what she'd read, reapers were neutral beings only concerned about guiding spirits to the Afterlife. They were fictional, sure; but she'd never imagined them as evil things who wanted to help demons dominate the world. In most cultures and religions, they had a bad rap, but they weren't bad.

Well, this reaper was evil incarnate. Every fiber of its energy destabilized her, made her sick to her stomach. She couldn't look at it without wanting to rip its hood off and divulge its trickery to all. It had no face. It was the devil itself in disguise; or whatever the devil translated to outside of religion. The real devil didn't exist, according to the Guides, the demons; but were they sure about that?

I think the devil is here, with us, and it's offering us a one-way ticket to hell.

"You said prophecies. Plural," said Jessamine, focusing her gaze on the ground to avoid being sucked into the reaper's soulless hole of a face. "What does this mean? There are more fates out there waiting to be fucked with? More visions, more of," she waved around herself, "all this crap?"

The reaper shrugged. "I can't say. I won't say. Not until I'm guaranteed a place to stay in this realm."

It wouldn't relent, no matter how much Jessamine and the demons prodded at it. Landon opted to remain silent, though he nodded or shook his head from time to time, and mumbled to himself after every half-response the reaper gave them.

Prophecies. The plural bothered her. Was there some other being out there holding on to a prophecy, another world-changing event brewing at the surface?

"We can't make such a massive decision without unanimity," said one demon who'd been floating to and fro, pacing, its eyes slitted. "And to get unanimity, we need more information from you. We can bring these half-assed answers to the rest of us. You drive a hard bargain, and we respect your wishes, but... we can't offer you anything yet."

"Surely one of you has authority over all others, no?" The reaper's timbre elevated at the end, and Jessamine imagined it lifting its eyebrows; if it had any. "Her presence," it gestured at Jessamine, "in this realm is the issue. She needs to get out, and once she does, many of your issues will resolve on their own."

"How do we get her out?" Another demon, one that had remained mostly on the sidelines, listening to the conversation, butted in, blasting through the body of the pacing demon. "Her fate was to be sealed in here; that fate was fulfilled. We have no means to change that."

"And like I told you," the reaper rose an inch or two above the ground, "she was supposed to be dead before she fell into this world. And this woman is clearly not dead. She's well and alive, and her well and alive soul is turbulent. It's fighting this place, fighting her, and tormenting every being in the vicinity. Your dimension doesn't want her here... and it will let her out, for a price."

"What price?" Jessamine bit the insides of her cheeks, hoping to not display any excitement or hope at this being's words. She glued her arms to her sides, and side-glanced at the gate's iron bars. Their surface shone, reflecting the ongoing lightning and the glow of the red beings surrounding it. Most of them were still immobilized from the reaper's spell.

The reaper rotated to Jessamine, and she pictured it sneering at her. It had made it quite clear to her, to everyone, that it didn't like humans in the slightest. And Jessamine even less. "The dimension needs something to take your place. Something dead, but powerful. It'll restore the balance, while refueling this realm with the energy it needs to survive, and to prevent any more portals from opening up."

"Speaking of those portals," one demon cleared its throat, "didn't you say you could help with those? Because that's a great negotiating point that will heavily lean us towards helping you."

The black-cloaked creature clasped its transparent, skeletal hands. "Yes, I can close those portals. Every single one. A quick snap of my fingers, and everything is restored, all things are back in their place. But only if you allow me to stay here." It lowered to the ground, its boot-covered feet thudding on the earth. "I won't get in your way. You'll barely know I'm here. And, like I also said, I can eventually help you with your goals."

Once it's done with its own hunger for destruction, I presume?

"Don't do it," Jessamine addressed the pacing demon, who she considered a sort of leader, as it had spoken up the most during this trying negotiation. "Don't let it stay. It's more malevolent than even you, and I don't trust it."

The demon squinted at her. "But it said it can help us."

"I was supposed to help you, and I failed. I was your prophesied vessel, destined to give you everything you wanted on a silver platter; and it didn't work out." It stung her to speak of it, to remind the demons she'd been the reason they were back in their realm and not slitting throats and taking over the human world. "This thing is lying to you; it has ulterior motives that I'm almost ready to swear will be your undoing. It's over, okay? There are no other prophecies that'll allow you to succeed."

"That you know of," growled the reaper, its curdling voice chilling Jessamine to the core.

She brushed it off, concentrating on the demons. The atrocious creatures that had once inhabited her, turned her to disastrous actions, made her kill people she cared about.

I don't want to protect them, but this guy will take advantage of them at every turn.

"I know you're all bad and you want world domination and to restore things to the way you like them, but this..." She snickered at the reaper, then returned to the demons. "This isn't the way. This thing," she vaguely waved towards it, "is a fraud. It knows way too much about you, me, prophecies, realms... and it won't share anything with us? Who's to say it's not responsible for all this mess? It'll use your abilities against you, for its own sordid goals, guaranteed. You wanted out of here, but I vow to you this thing will keep you locked in while it gets out."

Jessamine knew evil, knew it well. She'd held it inside her, sensed it wrapping around her heart, her lungs, controlling her mind. She'd watched as it took charge of her, feeding her with blood, charging her up to invade and destroy the world.

This being was beyond evil. Its energy was so flickering with violence and viciousness that it hurt Jessamine internally. Its presence alone pierced into her belly and poked at her rib-cage and rendered her muscles stiff, sensitive to the tiniest whiff of air.

She'd never help demons, never. But if they succumbed to this reaper and its pretty promises, not only would they doom themselves to serve this creature forever, but the world they wanted for the human dimension wouldn't exist. The reaper would shift their plans, take away their motives, do things its own way. This unknown, unnamed, ancient beast would live in their realm and make them stronger, maybe; but it would decide their fate, with or without a prophecy. It would trap them for its own malicious benefit.

And, on the off-chance the reaper was sincere and would help the demons, she couldn't take the risk. The demons could never be allowed out of their caged realm, ever. Not to go through all this bullshit again. Not to take control of Jessamine and use her as their puppet.

"Anytime there's a shift in the dimensions, the portal locks come undone, the worlds collide." The reaper's tone was tenebrous, seductive. It was striving to be alluring, to entice the demons with vows of assistance and power and snippets of knowledge. "This shift happened for a reason." It twisted towards Jessamine, and she could have sworn it was glaring. "And that reason is me. I must remain here so you can get her out. Restore the balance in here, get back on track."

"Hey," came a voice near Jessamine. She twisted to see Landon perking up, one finger in the air, like a student requesting permission to speak. "So, what about me, then? I'm alive, too. Does that mean I shouldn't be here?"

The reaper shifted its focus to Landon, who recoiled at the sudden attention. "Technically, but you're unimportant. You're not the prophesied vessel; you're powerless. A soul like yours is of no interest to this place. When you were thrown in, the worlds rattled a smidgen, sure, but they didn't open. Actually," it zoomed closer, nudging Jessamine aside to get into Landon's space, "you cannot leave at all. If you do, your departure will provide a bigger shift, because you don't belong out there. You were supposed to die, supposed to become a demon and dwell here. The best option in your case... well, I could remedy that, if you wish. A quick blow and you'll be dead, which would also help restore things."

After recovering her balance, having been thrown out of the way, Jessamine slid in front of Landon, shaking her head. "Leave him out of this."

"He asked me a question," the reaper scoffed, "so I replied. Are humans rude now, too? On top of being idiots?"

"Stop insulting me." Jessamine snarled, bunching her fists. "Because if you weren't here, the demons would be reliant on me to save their realm. Me, a human who has the apparent magic touch to seal their portals. So how about not demeaning me—and my friend—and getting into better details of this whole dead versus living human in the demonic realm ordeal? I'm sure I'm not the only one with questions."

A few demons echoed her comments; and she sensed Landon nodding behind her.

To stand up to this bully-like being had taken every ounce of her courage. It was a gloomy, gruesome creature whose sole existence quivered through her, deranging the placement of all her organs, making her feel like everything inside her was about to stop functioning. But the demons were too wooed by its appeal, and Landon too freaked out to speak for himself. It was up to Jessamine, apparently, to get the truth out of this reaper, more information on this supposed price.

And anything to distract it from attempting to murder Landon.

To her surprise—she'd anticipated an attack from the reaper, for it to cup its skeletal palms around her neck and squeeze until she suffocated—it rolled its shoulders and dropped its head forward. "Limbo and this realm are meant to welcome the dead, not the living. So when something foreign enters, more so something alive, that doesn't belong, the gates holding in other foreign beings move. The doors try to open. A living human in here sends the wrong message; it says hey, it's all good, everyone can come out now!" The reaper turned sideways, and where it should have had a profile—a nose, lips, a chin—there was nothing but empty space. "You're a foreigner, but this realm grew used to your presence, despite loathing it. So now, it requires a worthy soul, a sacrifice to take your place."

Jessamine's fists unclenched as her heart sank into her gut. Who could she possibly volunteer to take her spot in this fucked-up, feral world? And how could she contact them to discuss terms?

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