Chapter Text
Alone, that was what Zoey thought as she paced around the lounge. Her heavy footsteps echoed around as she stared at her phone, seeing no new messages from her friends. It had been around an hour since Rumi and Mira had told her to stay behind whilst they went to deal with the spike in the Honmoon. Zoey rubbed her eyes. The pulse she had felt through the Honmoon had been big, meaning an incursion beyond thirty demons, yet here she was alone in the condo with a blue demonic tiger staring at her. It turned its gaze at her, and the demonic magpie snored loudly on top of its head. The tiger shifted, returning to its attempts in trying to right a series of knocked-over flower pots. Zoey sighed, eyeing the ten flower pots she had put on the floor, her attempt to distract the tiger so she could sneak out to join the battle, but every time the tiger appeared before the door, it blocked her with the judgmental bird screaming at her till she retreated back into the lounge. Even trying to get out of her bedroom balcony was fruitless, Mira having locked the door and hidden the key on top of the tallest cupboard in the kitchen, a cupboard only Mira could reach.
“Ever since Burbank, they’ve kept me away from the frontlines,” Zoey muttered, summoning a single shinkal to her grasp. She toyed with it, letting it dance around, her fingers and mind controlling its movements like a little marionette doll on invisible strings. “I just have scars. I can still fight! I’ve fully recovered!” She gritted her teeth, throwing the dagger in a random direction, the bird screeching as its hat was snatched away by the dagger before it impaled into the fridge.
Zoey slumped down on the couch, legs drumming restlessly against the floor, glancing over at the commotion of the bird that Rumi had said was called Sussie, a partner to the tiger Derpy, trying to save its hat. She shook her head, bringing up her contacts, fingers hovering over RuRu Bean, whose profile picture showed a cute chibi version of Rumi with her patterns and a kitty mask tilted at an angle on her head, a custom-made novelty Zoey herself had made for all of them.
“I can still be useful, why can’t they see that? Sure, I haven’t eaten in four days, but I don’t feel that hungry today.” She paused, remembering Mira talking about her being restless. “Of course I’d be restless, what hunter wouldn’t after letting a demon escape and having more demons appearing every day. It’s like we defeated Gwi-Ma for nothing. A faint crack sounded out, catching her attention. She stared down at the hideous crack in her phone screen, carving across Rumi’s picture and name like an ugly scar; even the teal turtle case had smaller cracks that reminded her of Rumi’s demonic patterns.
She chuckled as the thought loomed in her mind of how crazy she must look talking to the thin air around her. Zoey sighed, rubbing her eyes, feeling something pounding, pressing like needles into the backs of her eyes. A faint headache loomed in her skull as the feeling of fog and dread started to press into her mind. She stared out the window at the inky black sky, strangely calm and pale without the stars, only the light, albeit faint, of a full moon starting to creep up. She exhaled a breath, the warm air stinging her lips, but greater discomfort came as she inhaled, the air went from cold to burning, like fire, in her throat, settling a heat in her chest that only seemed to rise with every breath. She dropped her phone on the couch, stumbling to her feet as Derpy watched her, concern and curiosity in its eyes.
“I’m not a liability. I want to be useful, not stuck holding down the fort.” Zoey pouted, folding her arms, seeing herself in the mirror next to the couch. “God, if Mira were here, I wouldn’t be spared the cute frog jokes.” She turned towards Derpy, standing there wide-eyed and unmoving,, as Sussie returned, hatless to sleep on top of his head. “What would you know? Dumb furball babysitter. I’m a Hunter, you just watch. I’m going out there tomorrow!”
Zoey stormed off into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She flattened her hands over her face, screaming into them before flopping down hard on the edge of her bed. “What is wrong with me?” she asked aloud, getting only an empty wet growl from her stomach. “Why am I such a mess? This isn’t me, I’m not the frustrated one, I'm the perky one.” Zoey stared at her reflection in the makeup mirror, noticing her pale complexion.
“Maybe they are right to leave me here until I can get myself back to a normal state of emotions,” she muttered. She tugged at the elastic waistband of her turtle-patterned pyjama leggings, her legs shaking again. Her eyes became transfixed on her legs, tears of pain welling in her eyes as she found her fingers pressing and rubbing against her left thigh. Beneath the soft pink fabric, the deep scars, the harrowing reminder of Burbank, started to burn with an insidious acidic itch like fire ants crawling inside the puncture marks that refused to heal. She found her free hand teasing and toying with the scar on her right shoulder, shuddering as the world seemed to blur, becoming a distant haze.
Something in her mind, amongst her Hunter training, was the foreboding tingle that something was wrong, tugging at her Honmoon connection, but Zoey couldn’t respond through the fog of discomfort. She tried to cry out as the heat radiated throughout her body, making it feel like her blood was starting to boil, but only a hoarse raspy wheeze escaped her mouth. She moved her hands away from her scars, fighting the urge to keep massaging them as if it would ease the discomfort.
Her breaths came in short, sharp, rapid succession as she tried to walk forward, knowing she needed her phone, she needed Mira, she needed Rumi. Zoey lost her footing, crashing without direction until her abdomen struck her makeup table, the impact forcing what little air she had in her lungs out. Clammy, sweaty fingers squeaked across the varnished wood as she tried to get a grip on it to steady herself, her legs feeling like they couldn’t support her weight. Zoey could feel every nerve squirm, her body shaking as it suffocated in the endless rising heat that made her dizzy. Then it struck her, like a thousand electric needles lighting every nerve on fire in her body, beads of sweat glistened on her skin as her body jerked violently forwards.
A hoarse cry escaped her lips as a wrenching crack of bone echoed in her ears, the cracks continuing to reverberate down her hands and into her fingers. She wanted to move her fingers, to jerk her hands in fright at the pain coursing through the tightening skin, but she found her hands unresponsive as if no longer under her control. She glanced down, tears blurring the sight of her bones pressing into her skin, threatening to tear through if the slightest tension was added. Her fingernails darkened, crunching under unseen forces twisting them, pushing them outwards, reshaping them into claws that cut deep grooves into the table. Anguished cries left Zoey’s mouth as her hands snapped violently, dainty fingers growing longer and thicker in unison with her hands.
Her body jerked involuntarily at the sudden sharp pop from her spine; it felt like something was trying to twist her spine into unnatural angles. The outline of her spine pressed into skin and fabric alike. Zoey cried out, knees smacking into the table as her body twisted, collapsing onto the floor, her cries angling between high and low pained notes. Laboured breaths echoed from her throat, drowned out by the wet crunches of tissue and sinew contorting and straining against the pressure of her skeleton shifting about inside her skin. Her body arched, chest pushed up as her ribs grew wider, faint tears appeared in her pyjama top, the fabric, losing the fight against her growing chest.
Claws cut into the carpet as her hands dragged along it, her movements unnaturally controlled by the shuddering jerks as her bones lengthened, manipulated into forms beyond human constraints. Heavy guttural pained breaths filled the air as Zoey rolled over onto her chest, pushing herself up on her monstrous growing hands, crying out as her arms were tortured by her movements and the assailing changes slithering through. Bones and muscles cracked and squelched, tendons and nerves stretched at the growth, stripping away the slender, feminine nature of her arms. She jerked, her back rising higher as her top split open down the line of her spine, vertebrae shifting like piano keys under the skin as they enlarged.
“Help…me..” Zoey cried out, her voice guttural and inhuman.
Pain exploded around her tailbone as if bones were completely shattered under the weight of her transformation. A jagged tear formed in her leggings around the seat, and a thick mass of bone and flesh erupted from her lower back. Zoey shook her head; every attempt she made to move, to get herself moving under her own power, was met with blinding white-hot pain that deepened the disconnect to her own body. Her heels rose up, her body off the ground, as her feet steadily grew longer and broader, the cracks growing louder as her thickening toes subtly crunched.
Widening knees popped out of alignment, sending more pain across her legs. The sickening, cruel cracking of bones grew louder than wet pops of ballooning muscles and stretching sinew. Her leggings continue to tear around her bulging mass, her puncture marks deep and red, seeming to grow angry against taut, stretched pale skin. A splitting series of cracks made her whine pathetically as her knees cracked back into alignment, followed by the blinding snap of her hips starting to widen. Her bra straps gave under the strain of her back growing broader; her skin felt hard, pulled over swelling muscle, and around her lengthening spine. Scraps of her top slipped down sweaty skin, pores starting to bristle with the thin yet gradually thickening starts of black hairs, sending a sensation of annoying itches like fire ants across her body. Her tail twitched under the spasming movements of her shoulders rising up, bunching as they cracked and twisted against her skin. A series of wet cracks came from within her chest, pressure building like she would explode at any second, breath catching in her throat as her chest barreled outwards, opening the space inside the chest cavity for her organs to balloon into newer, more powerful forms. The final tattered remains of her clothes littered the floor as the hulking mass of flesh and muscle stumbled slightly from movement, accompanied by the deafening cracks of her shoulders and hips cracking into alignment with her spine.
Zoey’s black hair began to shorten, matted by sweat thickening into the growing hairs erupting out of her scalp, seamlessly blending into them. Her throat and windpipe spasmed, fluctuating through pained pulses as her neck grew longer and thicker, twisting her voice, mangled into the guttural inhuman pain cries of a wounded animal, stripping the idol of her harmonic voice.
Her jaw clenched tightly, skin snapping around the corners of her mouth as her mouth opened, blood dripping from the fresh wounds. To Zoey, it felt like something was splintering her skull, shards of bones pressing into her skin, her gums a mess of pain from her teeth growing into sharper points, dwarfed in comparison with the painful surge of growth of her mouth and nose elongating out from her face. Her canines grew longer and sharper, the top pair bordering on sabre tooth style fangs hanging from her gums like icicles ready to pierce through flesh. Blood and saliva dripped from her mouth as she hung her head low, her ears widening and shifting through thick fur slithering to the top of her head as they continued to grow larger, their curved form twisting into flared points.
Deep, laboured pants filled the room, the subtle cracks of joints and bones finding their way back into place as the beast stood there, thick fur continuing to invade the pores of the pale skin, spreading like a dark coat of fire along the bulked mass. Its eyes snapped shut, a deep, low growl reverberating from its throat as it slowly opened its brown eyes to the light of the full moon creeping through the glass door. A hungry, fierce gold slithered, corrupting the brown of the beast's eyes until it was all that remained, glowing like demonic jewels in the moonlight. It rose up onto its legs, head striking into the ceiling as it let out an ear-piercing howl that shook the room.
It stumbled towards the moonlight, claws scraping against the glass barrier that halted its advance. It wanted out, it needed to be out of the strange prison. It turned as a blue portal appeared in the door, a tiger-like creature stepping through it. The beast stared at it, lips pulling back to bare its fangs at the stranger, thick, gnarled fingers twitching with razor-sharp claws. The tiger only seemed to tilt its head, picking up a piece of turtle-patterned fabric in its mouth before sinking into the floor. The beast growled with frustration, bringing all its weight to bear on the strange surface that kept it from the moonlight, glass shattering, cutting into its flesh as it stepped over it. The night air grazed its hot, taut hide and fur as if welcoming it to the untamed wild of the night. A loud growl escaped the beast’s mouth as it made for the treeline, the pull of something calling it to come hunt.
The faint ticking of the grandfather clock echoed around Zoey. Her mind drifted to vivid, colourful performances with two girls who were a little bit older than her, performances that made her soul hum with the deep connection she had with them.
“Zoey? Burbank to Zoey?”
Zoey blinked, snapping back to reality, staring at the craggy yet gentle features of an old man with blue-rimmed glasses and black hair that was slowly losing any sense of a fashionable hairline. “Sorry, Dad,” she stated, flashing a small smile across the dinner table as she played with a pile of mixed vegetables on her plate.
“Always head in the clouds with you. I’m surprised you get any work done with that mindset,” Zoey's father stated, softly chuckling.
“You’d be surprised,” Zoey said under her breath. “What were you saying?”
“I was asking about your friends, Tiara and Demi, wasn't it?”
Zoey snorted. “Good one. I’ll have to use those. It’s Mira and Rumi, my bandmates, friends.” Then in her head, she added. “Partners, romantic, tangled in the gayest threads of the Honmoon. But I’ll tell you that when there’s no chance of giving you a heart attack, Dad.”
“Ah, yes. I’ve seen the videos. Young Callum next door always shows me your performances, to think it only feels like yesterday when I was changing your diapers, now look at you. Proud, beautiful, confident on the stage. You remind me of my mother,” her father stated.
“Eww, Dad, not over dinner!” Zoey exclaimed, shaking her head.
“Ah, it wouldn’t hurt you. Takes a lot to put you off food, my little angel.”
Silence fell for a moment as Zoey continued on with her meal. Her dad’s meatloaf was always the best, especially when he made more than a normal household would need, allowing them to have seconds or thirds without feeling guilty or embarrassed.
“So what else do you get up to in Korea? Seen anything from your mother?”
“Barely talk to her. I think she cut me off after I went for that exchange program and headed to Korea. There was one time she reached out to me, back when we debuted as Huntrix, only to berate me about being a flashy showgirl.” Zoey found herself rolling her eyes at the term. “If only people knew the idol career was her dream that came with two bonuses, hot girlfriends and slaying demons like some cheesy horror movie out of Canada or Germany.”
“I don’t speak to her much. I’m far too old to deal with dramas now. All the better for the peaceful suburbs and a nice retirement,” her father stated. “Something I have no doubt you’ll look forward to once your idol career comes to an end.”
“Got a long time before that. It’s a twenty-year gig,” Zoey replied.
“Well, you make sure you look after yourself and those girls too,” her father began.
“I do, Dad. Don’t worry, they have my back as I have theirs. In more ways than one,” Zoey said, finishing her plate.
Her father chuckled. “That’s good to hear. I have to admit it is good to see you again. I’m so glad you decided to reach out.”
“Yeah. Things were rough last year; Huntrix nearly broke up.” Zoey paused, her face falling as she felt the shame and pang of sorrow invading her heart. “We had a lot to work through, but in the sea of repairing bridges, I figured it was long overdue to repair my bridges with you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I left.”
“You don’t need to apologise. If anyone should apologise, it’s me. The constant arguments drove you away. I should have been a better father and focused more on how the dramas made you feel.”
Zoey managed a cute smile. “Maybe we were all to blame back then, but what I think matters now is the here and the now.”
“I guess you're ready for dessert?” her father questioned.
Zoey opened her mouth to speak, but broke off, feeling a sharp pang chilling the back of her mind. “A tear…here…now? Seriously!” She cleared her throat. “I’ll have dessert in a bit, Dad. I got a routine of having a walk to let the dinner go down.” She hastily got up, making for the door, double-checking she had her phone on her, though it would be of no use to call for reinforcements with Mira and Rumi being back in South Korea. She had hoped they would have come with her to Burbank, but as Rumi had put it, “You go and spend time with your father alone, you don’t need us clinging to your side. Besides, someone has to stay behind to keep Seoul safe.”
“Be back in an hour!” Zoey called, before shutting the front door.
She left the sleepy suburb behind her, following the sensation of the Honmoon letting the threads guide her towards the danger. She chuckled to herself. The thought of running towards the danger always seemed absurd in her mind, even now, as a Hunter. It always made her stomach flutter as she ran towards the threat, never knowing what she might face. Deep in her soul, she felt the distant call of Rumi and Mira’s souls, even this far away; she could feel their spirits, bound by the spiritual barrier they were sworn to protect. She wondered if they had felt the sensation of the tear too before she cut her thoughts entirely, shifting her focus to battle mode as the clatter of metal caught her attention.
Zoey stared down an alleyway, the smell of rotting garbage turning her stomach. She focused on the Honmoon, the alert pointing her in the same direction as the sound of metal rolling against concrete. “Whatever it is, it’s close,” she muttered, looking around for the signature magenta tear in the Honmoon that would allow her to fix all her attention on the demons that dared pour through. She had hoped that with Gwi-Ma gone, the tears would have gone with it, but recent events had soon revealed that the Honmoon was still weak in certain places, especially around Seoul.
Cautiously, she lightfooted towards the maw of the alleyway, ignoring the smell that was turning her stomach. She reached out through the Honmoon, sensing her weapons drawing them close to the barrier, but not pulling them all the way through. She had the element of surprise, and she intended to keep it that way. She stopped, finding herself holding her breath, not daring to make a sound as the sound of splintering wood and creaking metal echoed around her. Through the gloom of the alleyway, she felt a pit forming in her stomach, tension rising in her muscles as a pair of demonic glowing gold eyes stabbed through the dark, staring right at her.
Gently, she let out her breath, fingers curling. She felt the golden tassel dancing against her skin as the metal of her shinkal hilts formed under her curling fingers. The world seemed to stand still for a moment before the gold eyes darted towards her. Zoey gritted her teeth, focusing on her training, launching herself up and over the fence, twirling her body over her attacker, throwing multiple shinkal into the thing's back. The fence nearby splintered as the thing crashed, howling in pain as it turned to face her. Zoey smirked, hearing it in pain was a good sign, but as she landed, brandishing a fresh set of shinkal, she paused, eyeing her attacker closely. Thick, unkempt silver fur bristled over a hulking mass of flesh and muscle, and hands that were monstrous parodies of human and monster combined. Saliva dripped from fangs that jutted out of a thick, ugly muzzle. Then there were those eyes, gold showing no pain, only rage directed towards her. Razor-sharp claws glinted in the full moon before it reared up and lunged for her again.
Zoey propelled herself backwards, throwing shinkal after shinkal, trying to keep a distance between her and this thing. It almost reminded her of a wolf, but wolves never came down to the suburbs. “Was it a new demon? Or something that had always been lurking around waiting for a weak point in the Honmoon?” She shook her head. Questions would have to wait till later, right? She had to focus on defeating this creature.
Through the still night air and the guttural sounds of the creature, Zoey could just make out the acidic hiss of her weapons as if every dagger that met its mark was burning at the body of the creature. “Okay, definitely a demon if hurt by the Honmoon,” she muttered.
The wolf closed the gap once more, claws slashing trying to cut deep into her face and chest, Zoey backpedaled using large measured steps and jumps just as Mira had shown her in dance practice just in case demons attacked them on stage. Her foot struck a trash can as tomato juice squirted over her sneakers. She couldn’t keep backing up, so she took her chance, aiming for the head with a few daggers thrown from her grasp before propelling herself up and over the creature. Its eyes flashed as its head darted upwards, seemingly following her. Tears exploded out of her eyes, vision flashing white and red as white-hot pain seared through her left leg. Her body crashed roughly to the floor as she felt something, a part of her ripped away from her. Her screams were unfiltered, and the stench of blood hung in the air. Nauesa swept over her body as all the heat left her in an instant. She struggled to her feet, pain flaring, dropping her back down to the ground. The beast had hit her once, and she was down. A blinding headache that felt like a jackhammer drilling at her skull exploded into her head, a second jolt of pain washed through her right shoulder, the wet crack of tissues and bone becoming trapped and broken under intense pressure.
“Are you alright!” a voice called. “I heard screaming.”
Zoey shook her head, unable to tell where the voice was, but she knew whoever it was shouldn’t come for her. Not because it would risk exposing her identity as a hunter, but because this thing would turn on them, and she wasn’t in the best position now to defend some idiot blundering into the situation.
“WILD DOG!” she cried out. “Stay back!” She coughed; even raising her voice seemed to hurt her body. She could feel the weight of the beast pushing down as its teeth sank deeper into her shoulder, causing her too scream again. Flashes of Mira and Rumi popped into her mind, their face showing pain and concern as they looked at each other. In another flash, she saw Rumi calling ZoZo on her phone before she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. Zoey didn’t understand why she was seeing them, but she allowed herself to cling to this vision of her friends, her girlfriends, the rocks that always cared for her. She cried out, driving a fistful of shinkal towards the beast, hearing its snarl of fury and pain as each dagger seemed to make its mark.
She felt the pressure release on her shoulder, her body shivering and shuddering. Limbs feeling like they were filled with lead and molten lava. The smell of blood seemed to be all around her. She could hear the beast's growls and the beating of its footsteps growing more distant by the second. Fingers crawled on the concrete, sneakers slipping as she tried to move, trying to will herself through the pain to get back home, but the pain was like an anchor and fog at the same time, weighing her down and making it impossible to make out things around her. Darkness started to creep into her mind as a blurry figure appeared by her side.
“Hold on. I’m getting an ambulance!” the figure said. The words sounded so far away, making Zoey wonder if this person was just an illusion of her pain.
Darkness kept creeping into the corners of her eyes as she tried to move, finding herself being restrained by the blurred figure. She wheezed and coughed, trying to speak to them to ask what was happening or where the beast had gone, but her lungs burned, her throat stinging against the cold air she was drawing in.
“Was this it? Was this how the story ended? Would I never see Mira’s face blush again from a sudden pinching of the butt or dance my fingers around Rumi’s curves again?” she thought.