Scene II: The Contract

Bathsheba drew a perfect circle in the black dirt with her bare hand, pouring a draining surge of raw magical energy into the line. The earth became scorchingly hot as she spoke the words she had sworn never to use—a raw, ancient language of desperation and binding power. The earth groaned, then violently split open. A thick, black smoke, reeking of iron and decay, spiraled upward, swiftly coalescing above her.

Casey (a voice like grinding stone): “Who tears open my gate and defiles my slumber?”

Bathsheba (firmly): “Bathsheba. I call for your strength. I require your service.”

Casey (a low, mocking laugh emerging from the smoke): “You call for me? Do you even know what I am, little summoner?”

Bathsheba: “A weapon. A force designed for destruction. That’s all I need.”

The smoke compressed into the undeniable, physical form of a woman, her presence overwhelming.

Casey: “You summon a demon and speak of need. Brave… or foolish.”

Bathsheba: “Maybe both. But something worse than you sleeps here.”

Casey (a predatory smile): "I have a new target. Let's see what this silence-feeder tastes like."

They stood before the rusted gates. Casey drew her impossibly black blade that whispered like wind through bone.

Casey: “What exactly are we hunting?”

Bathsheba: “A presence that feeds on silence and fear. It has no face—only pure, relentless hunger.”