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the Awake resident’s worldly possessions lay scattered on the cement. The vagrants themselves hadn’t fared much better. The bodies that hadn’t been taken were tossed around like discarded old dolls, fresh blood still pooling around them, leaking from gaping wounds and missing appendages.  
    In the center of the carnage was Sarah’s tent. It was the only thing still standing, pristine and innocent, as if it were immune to the reality of the world outside of it. The flap of the tent was drawn closed, and I didn’t sense anything inside. Whatever had done this, it was gone.
    “Sarah,” I shouted. I knew it was useless, but I did it anyway. If she were okay, she would have kept the connection. I looked at the tent with apprehension. I had to know, but I didn’t want to.
    Pounding feet alerted me that Obi and Izak had finally caught up. They came to a quick stop behind me, Izak falling to his knees and doubling over with his hands over his face.
    “Oh my god,” Obi said, his breath catching.  
    “If it was, I’m going to kill Him,” I said. So many feelings bubbling up, strange sensations that I had lost the understanding for. It was violent, calm, and cold. The tent. I started walking towards it. Obi scrambled to catch up, leaving Izak on the ground in despair.
    The smell of death inside the tent was unmistakable, and it grew stronger as I approached. One body, a woman. There was another smell too, Sarah’s perfume. She had started wearing it a few months ago in an effort to get the attention of a boy in school. Her efforts had gone unrewarded, victim to another immature male that could admire her physical endowments, but couldn’t overlook her physical shortcomings.  
    I stopped at the flap of the tent and glanced over at Obi. My face must have been betraying my feelings.
    “I can look for you,” he said. Despite our disagreements, he was still there when I needed him.
    “No,” I said. “Stay out here.”
    I took a deep breath and focused, pushing the nylon aside without touching it. The inside of the tent was dark, but I could see it clearly in black and white. My eyes traced along the floor, hesitant to make contact with the body that I knew was there. When they did, I breathed out heavily.  
    It was Trish.
    I only had a second to feel the relief. My Sight exploded with heat and pressure, and the back corner lit up in a circle of flame. A Hell rift. I didn’t have time to react before I was thrown backwards out the tent by an unseen force. I slammed to the ground twenty feet away, sliding along the blood slicked floor.  
    I saw Obi turn to watch my flight, and then he dove towards the side of the tent just in time to avoid the attention of the demon that burst out of it. It was a monster I had never seen before, a mass of liquid darkness that undulated and flowed like oil around a black, skeletal face. The undulations molded and changed as it moved, becoming a foot, an arm, a claw, pushing off the floor at an impossible speed, propelling it towards me.  
    I focused, making myself stronger, spun my body and launched myself off the floor towards the creature, the force of the maneuver pressing the cement down into the earth. I hurtled towards the demon like a bullet, holding out my hand to grab onto the face. Its body changed in response, moving aside, the head disappearing behind the liquid flow. It slammed me with a monstrous fist as I barreled by, changing my direction and sending me crunching into the wall. Pain blossomed through dozens of broken bones, and I sucked in a weak breath. I focused again, knitting myself back together with as much speed as I was able.
    The demon was flowing towards me, closing the distance in no time. I rolled away just in time to avoid a blade that formed in its chest and stabbed out at me. Its face surfaced from the mass and leered, enjoying my mad scramble.
    Gunshots echoed through the room, passing harmlessly through the demon to put deep chips in the wall behind