Melody of darkness

As she approached the boy, Aisha purposely shortened the distance, depriving him of room to maneuver. Her presence, like a thick wall, was pressing on him, making him feel the seriousness of the situation. She wanted him to realize that she was not a timid fan he could humiliate with impunity. -I’m waiting for an apology,' she said, her voice was low and even, but there was a steel note in it that made the boy feel like he had to move. -You’ll apologize to me for your behavior at the concert. The boy, having recovered from the initial shock, tried to keep his haughty appearance, but fear was already in his eyes. -Why should I apologize to you? he asked provocatively, trying to hide the quiver in his voice. -What are you going to do to me? Huh? Instead of answering, Aysha made a sharp movement. Her hand, like lightning, rose up and fell on the wall near his head. There was a deafening blow, and a piece of plaster fell on the ground. A deep dent remained in the wall, perfectly repeating the shape of her fist. The boy swung back, his face warped with horror. He looked at the wall and then at Aysha, and realized that she was not joking. Her eyes were filled with rage, and she was surrounded by an aura of unbridled danger. -What happens if you don’t apologize? said Aisha, leaning her head to the side and staring him in the eye. Her voice sounded like a quiet whisper, but it was more threatening than the loudest scream. She enjoyed his fear, seeing his confidence leave him like water running through her fingers. She took another step forward, drawing her face close to his face. -There will be your head, she whispered, pointing with her chin to the dent in the wall. Her gaze burned through it, lacking the will to resist The boy, realizing that Aisha is not bluffing, panicked. Fear for his life crossed the remnants of pride and arrogance. His eyes were frozen in genuine terror, and his body began to tremble. He pushed Aysha away from him with such force that she could barely stand. Instinctively, fleeing the impending threat, he waved his foot, intending to strike her in the stomach. His actions read despair and a desire to stop the danger at all costs. But Aicha was faster. This clumsy attack only confirmed her superiority. With the cat’s grace she dodged the blow, as if dancing dangerously close to the blade of a knife. Her body curved softly, allowing to avoid a direct hit, and in the same instant she counterattacked. Instead of blocking his leg, she bent like a spring and fired forward with her fist. The movement was so fast that the boy did not have time to react. Fist Ayshi with force crashed on his stomach, exactly solar plexus. The air came out of the guy’s lungs with a muffled sound. His face warped in pain, and his eyes filled with tears. He bent in half, trying to grasp his stomach as if it might ease his suffering. The pain was acute and stabbing, preventing me from breathing and moving. It seemed as if all my internal organs were coming together in one painful knot. Aisha stepped back, watching his torment with cold detachment. There was no pity or compassion in her eyes. She merely stated the fact: he had brought it upon himself. It was a retribution for his rudeness, for his arrogance, for his attempt to humiliate her. She let him know that she is not to be trifled with, and that even the fiercest fan may not be who he seems at first sight. Suddenly, the silence was cut by a piercing whistle. Something sharp and deadly sprang up right next to her ear, almost touching her hair. Aisha jerked instinctively, feeling the heat pouring down her skin. Before she realized what had happened, she understood that it was not just a cut, it was something more. She felt a tingling sensation in her ear, and then a burning pain. Touching the lump, she felt the moisture - blood. When she looked down, she saw a small, fine knife thrust into the ground in the light of streetlights, reflecting her frightened face. Aisha understood: it’s not just a knife, it’s something unusual, an instrument imbued with spiritual energy. In such moments, demons often feel something like being burned or torn to pieces. So there are demon hunters nearby. There was no time for reflection. Instinctively she jumped up, avoiding the new threat. And it proved to be a saving solution. At the same moment, a sharp sword fell to the spot where her head had been just a second ago. He came dangerously close there are hunters for demons. Turning around, Aisha saw familiar faces. It was them - "Huntrix," the band she adored, whose performances inspired her. But now they stood before her, armed and ready for battle. The girl with the purple hair, gathered in a long braid, her eyes were burning with determination. The tall girl with pink hair, braided in a high tail, held a long sword ready for attack. And finally, a miniature girl with black hair, gathered in two amusing pompoms on the sides of her head, clutched a pair of short daggers in her hands, her face showing contempt. "Huntrix"... They were demon hunters, and she was their target. Aisha, shocked, could not believe what was happening. She looked dedicated her days to them, and now they are her enemies.