Melody of darkness

She knew he was faster. She knew the odds were slim. But a fire blazed in her chest—a fire of despair, rage, and mad hope. And that was enough to keep her running. Her legs felt as if they were filled with lead, yet they propelled her forward. The corridor blurred before her eyes, the walls merging into dark splotches, but she did not stop. The pounding of her own pulse echoed in her ears, beating in time with a single command: Run. Run. Run. Aisha bolted down the stairs, leaping over steps, barely grazing them with her toes. Behind her, like a shadow, the soft thud of footsteps lingered—Baby was on her trail, his steps light, almost silent, making it all the more terrifying. Each jump sent sharp pain through her knees, her breath tore from her chest, but stopping meant the end. And he… he smiled. This was fun for him. Usually, victims trembled, cried, surrendered without a fight. But not her. Not Aisha. She burned with the fire of resistance, and it thrilled him. -Well then,- he whispered, tilting his head back and running his fingers through his short blue hair. -This will be interesting. Instead of chasing after her, he leaped over the railing, landing gracefully on the landing below. Soundlessly. Elegantly. A predator toying with its prey. The hunt had begun. Baby paused on the staircase, tilting his head to one side. Somewhere below, her footsteps echoed, but her breath was already faltering—she was tiring. He was in no rush. Let her run. Let her hope. Another jump. Another. And now he was below, right at the exit, blocking her path. Aisha, racing toward the door, nearly collided with him. Her heart raced wildly, her vision blurred. But when his hands reached for her, she exploded. A sharp tug—and now he was pinned against the wall, his slender wrists caught in her grip, fragile as bird bones. His breath scorched her cheek, and she felt revulsion so deep it made her want to peel her skin away, to erase the trace of his touch. -What, didn’t expect this? -Her voice was hoarse, but there was steel in it. Her eyes burned, devoid of fear. Only hatred remained. -Did you think I would just give up? Baby’s thin lips curled into a smile, too wide, too unnatural. His eyes, cold and bright like a blade in the sun, tracked her every movement. -I hoped,-he repeated, a mocking tone ringing in his voice. He was clearly enjoying her despair. Aisha tightened her grip on his wrists, feeling the pulse beneath her fingers—quick, but steady. He wasn’t afraid. He was entertained. -What are you? - she blurted out. Not human. The words caught in her throat, but the meaning was clear. Baby laughed—a short, quiet sound, as if sharing some shameful secret with her. -Interesting question. And not for you to answer. Before she could react, he twisted. His movements were too fluid, too precise—as if he anticipated every one of her actions. In the next moment, their positions had reversed: now she was pinned to the wall, his fingers gliding over her throat, barely touching, as if assessing her vulnerability. Not as a lover, but as prey. -And you’re not like the others at all, -he whispered, leaning in so close that his breath scorched her skin. -Usually, they’re already screaming. Already crying. But you… you’re angry. I like that. She jerked, trying to break free, but he only pressed her harder, inflicting no pain, yet offering no chance. It was a display of strength, nothing more. -Let me go! -And what if I don’t? -His voice was quiet, almost tender. But beneath that tenderness lay a threat. -What will you do? The question hung in the air, and Aisha hated how it sounded—like a challenge, like a game in which she had already lost. But she saw a chance in it. But she wouldn’t surrender. A sharp knee strike—he deftly dodged, but his grip loosened. That was enough. She surged to the side, toward the stairs, but he was quicker. Demonic speed. She couldn’t compete with him in that. -You’re quick,- he noted, blocking her path again. -But I’m faster. And stronger. Accept it. She felt the adrenaline pulse in her temples, her body trembling with tension. But alongside her fear, something else grew within her. Fury. A thirst for resistance. -You’re just a parasite, -she hissed, looking him straight in the eye. -Feeding on the fear of others. A true monster doesn’t hide behind a pretty mask. Baby froze. For a second. His smile faltered. Then he laughed again, but this time there was a tautness to his laughter. She had struck a nerve. -Oh,- he whispered, and something ignited in his gaze. Not interest, not admiration. Irritation. -You want me to show you what I’m capable of? He stepped closer. His eyes darkened. -Do you want real fear? Aisha did not back down. She knew she was risking everything, but she had no other choice. -Go ahead. I’m not afraid of you. Their gazes locked—hers, filled with hatred and defiance, and his—enraged, almost deranged. Somewhere in the distance, a door slammed. Someone screamed. Baby frowned, as if he had been distracted from something important. From humiliation. -What a pity, - he said. -It seems I have matters to attend to. But we will definitely meet again. And before she could respond, he vanished—dissolving into the shadows of the stairwell, as if he had never existed. Leaving behind only the scent of sulfur and icy dread. Aisha stood alone, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from her chest. She trembled. But one question rang in her mind: What was that? The door of the stairwell slammed shut behind her, cutting her off from light and hope. But Aisha did not turn back. Her legs carried her forward—through the courtyard, past sleeping cars whose dark silhouettes loomed like predators lurking in the night, into the shadowy alley. Only there, piled high with trash bins emitting a nauseating stench of decay and mold, and old, tattered boxes, did she allow herself to stop. Her heart raced so violently it rang in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. Her fingers trembled as they clung to the rough brick wall, as if the ground were slipping away beneath her, pulling her into an abyss. She took a deep breath, then another—the frosty air burned her lungs like shards of glass, but it brought no relief. The taste of fear lingered bitterly on her tongue. He let her go. Why? Aisha suddenly ran her palm over her neck, as if trying to erase the invisible traces of his touch. Her skin burned, pulsed, as if branded. A lump formed in her throat—the same familiar one from childhood, when words got stuck inside, and her voice refused to sound, turning her into a mute shadow. She clenched her fists until it hurt, her nails digging into her palms, leaving red streaks on her pale skin. No. Not now. She couldn’t let fear win. But thoughts swirled, insistent and prickly, like a swarm of angry bees: He could catch up. He could grab her. He could… But he didn’t. Why? A memory surfaced unexpectedly, like a frame from a nightmare—his eyes in the dim light of the stairwell. Not evil. Not insane. Curious. As if she were… a game. A puzzle. Something worth pursuing. Like a rare butterfly he intended to pin to his collection. Aisha squeezed her eyes shut against the vivid flashes, trying to wipe away that image as if it were a dirty stain. She didn’t need his curiosity. She didn’t need this strange, almost respectful pursuit. It would be better if he were an ordinary monster—at least then she would know how to fight him, how to survive. Somewhere in the distance, a dog howled, long and mournful, breaking the silence of the night. She flinched, instinctively pressing herself against the wall, as if seeking refuge in its cold, silent fortress. She had to move. She couldn’t stay here. But where? Home? He knew where she lived. Friends? He would put them in danger, turn them into targets. The police? Ridiculous. Who would believe the words of a frightened girl running from demons in a world of K-pop idols? Staying here was not an option either. This alley was a trap, easy to get stuck in. Aisha straightened, forcefully rolling her neck—her muscles ached from tension, but the pain helped her think, preventing her from sinking into despair. She scanned the alley once more, listening to the silence, trying to catch any hint of danger. And she stepped forward—into the night, into the unknown, into the only thing she had left. Flight. But deep down, an understanding was already taking root, painful and inevitable.