>>5198100She's definitely out cold, but the feeling you get from her doesn't subside.
It does however, begin to "detach" from her. And you can actually see this happening.
The air in the room is already dense with the smoke-like particles wafting off the blood that coats the room, but it pales in comparison to the torrent of smoke that pours from Javan's mouth, nose, eyes and ears.
You can hear her crying out as if she's in terrible pain, and there's a great rush of wind that accompanies it.
The demon that emerges from her body slowly takes shape, and although it remains wholly ethereal, it's form fits your image of a "demon" much more closely than the wraiths you fought previously.
All the smoke in the room rushes in towards it, and it takes that material into itself. You realize now what you're seeing... that stuff, it's dark matter.
"Oh, fuck..." You utter, unconsciously clutching your knife just a little bit harder.
It struggles and claws at the air as it reforms, as if it's having difficulty escaping from the body it had possessed.
But it does emerge, slowly. And it locks eyes with you.
It simply stares at first, letting out a low growl not dissimilar from a large cat.
You feel quite a bit of pressure from that stare, though. One misstep could spell the end, here. That's what your instincts are telling you.
And normally you'd listen to them, but there are times when a man must overcome his instincts. Doing that, you feel, is what sets men apart from mere animals.
Your stance widens, and you hold your blade out at the ready. Come what may, you'll fight to the end.
...
A standoff.
Neither you, nor the demon move for what feels like ages. Both of you lock eyes, refusing to blink.
And then he roars. A roar that freezes the blood in your veins like ice. Your body locks up, and that's when he strikes.
Without a lower body, the demon rides a trail of smoke as it launches itself towards you, clawed fingers reaching out to grab hold and rend your flesh.
You refuse to die like this, frozen in fear.
The demon flies at you in slow motion. Your vision tunnels, and all you can see is the enemy in front of you.
You can't breathe, as if there's a cueball stuck in your throat. But you don't need to breathe.
All you have to do is move your arm. Raise that blade up, and strike at the enemy.
Move.
MOVE!
"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!"
It takes a herculean effort, but with a roar of your own, your arm obeys your will, just barely. It moves up, and you slice straight through the ethereal demon's body as it flies past you.
It cries out in pain, but turns to attack you once more.
You turn to face it, still unable to breathe, but able at least to move your limbs.
Dirty, red light filters out of the demon's wounds and trails of smoke wisp out alongside it.
The demon stares at you, hate filling it's sunken, red eyes.
But it doesn't attack. Instead, smoke gathers behind it and it sinks into that inky darkness, disappearing entirely.
