Fear not Demons. 

They exist not to terrorize the righteous. 

Rather, they walk our world to punish the guilty. 

I could smell the rain before I even opened my eyes, rousing me from a restless slumber.

Nightmares clung to my mind, their tendrils wrapping around my thoughts, refusing to let go. In the space between dreams and wakefulness, between the petrichor and the darkness, I grasped for a moment of tranquility, a reprieve from the horrors that haunted me. A small piece of peace between my resting nightmares and my waking ones.

I sucked in a breath, and the illusion shattered. Beneath the rain, the putrid odor of my decaying apartment assaulted my senses. The reek of backed-up plumbing, rotting food, and the greasy, fetid scent of roaches saturated the air, an inescapable reminder of the squalor I called home.

"BRRRRRRRNNNNNN."

The loudspeaker's grating cry tore through the room, shredding the last vestiges of my fragile peace. It scraped against my raw nerves, dragging me back to the reality.

I clutched at my threadbare blanket, the rough texture anchoring me to the present.

Every night, the same dreams tormented me. Inexorable.

The ghosts of those I'd left behind, the forsaken and the damned, lurked at the edges of my vision. Their hollow, gaunt faces and grasping, skeletal hands hovered just out of sight, their anguished screams etching indelible scars on my psyche.

Panic seized my throat in a stranglehold, smothering me. I yearned to sink back into oblivion, to numb myself in sleep's cold embrace. Desperation gnawed at my guts as I grasped for that fleeting warmth in the void, that gossamer thread of peace to banish the nightmares, if only for a heartbeat.

With desperation clawing at my insides, I tried to reclaim that fleeting warmth in the darkness. To banish the nightmares, to grasp even the faintest strand of tranquility.

The alarm sounded once more, grating my nerves beyond my ability to ignore it.

Resigned, I opened my eyes, releasing the taut grip on my worn sheets.

Sickly light seeped through the grime-encrusted window, casting the water-stained walls and peeling paint in a jaundiced pallor. They seemed to press inward, the decaying room shrinking, constricting. A fat roach skittered up the wall, its carapace gleaming with damp. It paused on the ceiling, feelers twitching as it tested its footing.

"Don't you fucking dare," I croaked. Great words to start a day with.

My loathing for the skittering vermin was unparalleled, which spoke volumes considering the wretched state of the world. As I wathced it, my mind drifted back to that first roach infested apartment I'd lived in, on the outskirts of Denver. In all respects, yeah, probably better living there than what I was dealing with now, but I still detested the little bastards.

Fortune favored me, and the insect continued its ascent, vanishing into a crevice overhead.

Gritting my teeth, I faced the morning ritual of cleanliness-or the lack thereof. The March drizzle tapped against my window, a metronome to the dreary tempo of my thoughts.

"Look closely, Alec. It may be the last time we see the rain."

"Tch." With a scornful huff, I shoved myself upright, too abruptly. The room lurched and spun in protest.

"Shit. Oh. Oh... Shit." I steadied myself, nails raking through the matted tangle of my beard, scraping days worth of grime and filth. "Ugh." I grimaced at the dirt caked under my nails. "I need a fucking shower. Badly."

"Cleanliness is next to Godliness," the unwelcome voice in my head simpered.

"For fuck's sake... I don't have time for this shit today. Fuck off." The words tasted acrid on my tongue as irritation prickled under my skin.

I hauled myself to my feet, floorboards groaning threats to dump me into my downstairs neighbor's squalid lap. I stretched, joints popping like gunfire in the leaden silence. Fingertips brushed the stained ceiling, and for a fleeting instant, relief flooded through me as the ever-present aches retreated.

"Oh. Yup. Oh yeah. That's it." I wrenched my head side to side, each twist eliciting a staccato crackle from my neck. I laced my fingers behind my head and contorted my torso sharply, relishing the percussive pops that rippled down my spine. For a blessed moment, I almost felt human again.

A staticky hiss shivered through my nerves, but I shrugged it off. With a final stretch, I slumped back onto the sagging mattress that barely qualified as a bed. Groping under the frame, I fumbled until my fingers closed on cracked leather. I hauled out my boots, a hiss escaping as the split soles dug into my palms. The laces strained over the thick socks I hadn't bothered to peel off the night before.

I glowered at the boots, taking in the ragged hole in the left toe, the steel cap peeking through. The right heel flapped, sole coming unglued.

"Where the fuck am I gonna find new boots?" I asked the moldering walls. A pause. "Never thought I'd miss Amazon." Another beat. "Nope. Still not worth it. Fuck you, Bezos."

Stuffing my feet into the disintegrating boots with a grunt and a yawn, I shambled to the bathroom, shoulders hunching against the draft knifing through the busted window. The reek of the next door apartment's homebrewed rotgut seared my nostrils, another reminder of the world's descent into the bottom of the bottle, desperate to pickle reality into submission.

The bathroom, darker than the bedroom, surprised me when fluorescent bulbs flickered to sickly life as I fumbled for the switch out of habit. The bulb nearest the ceiling looked ready to give out any minute, its scuffed and broken plastic casing housing it. Neglect's debris cluttered the claustrophobic space-overflowing ashtrays, empty bottles, an abandoned razor.

Grime coated the mirror, with a small circular spot wiped clean in the center. Cracks spiderwebbed the glass, one extending from the base to the middle. The bottom edge reflected the filthy, cracked tile floor.

I glanced at the mirror and grimaced at my reflection. We would get to that mess later. First things first.

I unzipped, widening my stance to aim into the shattered porcelain stump of a toilet. My nose wrinkled at the new offending scent as my stream let loose, my terrible-smelling piss indicating dehydration.

No surprise there - the tap water had tasted like shit for weeks, and just last night I had noticed a significant amount of dirt spewing out as well. I needed to go check on the aquifer system. God knew nobody else will.

I stared into the toilet, watching the liquid swirl around the edges and sighed. Sometimes I missed the little things. Like being able to stare at the ceiling while I peed. Not because I didn't have faith in my aim, but because if I got startled by a roach on the ceiling, I would coat my bathroom in piss. It was weird, what you'd miss at the end of the world.

Rubbing my face with my left hand, I squeezed and shook the last drops from my dick with my right. I kicked the toilet stump a few times until it shuddered and emptied. Zipping up, I stepped right and tapped it once more, hearing the flap inside reseal.

At the sink, I flipped the tap, watching brown ooze spurt and fart through the calcified aerator. "Fuck me." I flipped the other tap, hoping added pressure would help. It did - but not as planned. Another brown ooze surge flowed faster from the tap, choking out of the pipe, splattering from the sink bottom over the edges onto my naked torso. "Ugh, why?" I moaned.

At last, silt-laden water seeped from the tap, grudgingly yielding to gravity's persuasion. It would suffice. I set to work with battered knuckles, scrubbing the sink, and scouring away layers of neglect before plugging the drain. Murky liquid pooled, its surface shimmering with an oily sheen.

A threadbare towel, marred by untold stains, found my grasp. The grimy cloth plunged into the water, emerging heavy and dripping. With methodical strokes, I cleansed the viscous filth clinging to my skin, the towel growing increasingly sodden and foul with each pass.

Hesitating, I lifted the rag to my nose, inhaling tentatively. A wave of relief washed over me as the familiar musk of mold and oxidized metal filled my nostrils, untainted by the fetid reek of raw sewage. Small mercies in a decaying world.

Submerging the towel into the clouded water, I wrung it out and repeated the ablutions with painstaking care until every trace of the vile ooze had been purged from my flesh. The first rag, now a dripping mass of contamination, fell forgotten to the unyielding tiles below.

Reaching for a second cloth, I mirrored my previous actions, saturating it in the tepid liquid. My eyes drifted to the fractured looking glass before me, and I studied the visage it revealed as the incessant drip of the faucet punctuated the silence.

With a trembling hand, I brushed the matted hair from my brow, my gaze boring into the reflection with unflinching intensity. The face that stared back was a cruel mockery of the man I once knew, as if a malevolent sculptor had hewn my features with a dulled chisel.

Toweling my hands, anger and hopelessness swelled in my chest.

A half-decade of unrelenting hardship had etched itself into every crease and furrow of my countenance. Even the coarse growth of beard could not mask the truth that time had wrought upon me. Those eyes, once alight with the spark of hope and purpose, now smoldered with the bitter ashes of fury and disillusionment. Despite the wear and tear, the high cheekbones, hooded eyes and strong jaw remained. There was no denying that it was my... Our... Face.

As I studied my visage, a flicker of violet light danced behind my pupils, an ominous portent that sent icy tendrils of dread slithering down my spine. My true nature, rising to the surface. Monster. Freak. Half-breed. The breath caught in my throat as an all-too-familiar panic seized me in its merciless talons.

My heart hammered against my ribs, each frantic beat a deafening drum in my ears. Rivulets of cold sweat beaded upon my furrowed brow as my legs quavered, threatening to crumple beneath the weight of my mounting terror.

The towel, now a twisted mass in my white-knuckled grasp, slipped from my fingers and fell forgotten to the floor. Drawing a shuddering breath, I willed the air to flow into my lungs with agonizing slowness, desperately clinging to the shreds of my composure.

"Breathe," I growled through clenched teeth, my voice guttural. "Just breathe..." The mantra echoed in my mind as I forced myself to inhale through flared nostrils and exhale through parted lips, each breath a Herculean effort.

"Pull yourself together," I snarled, my tone dripping with self-loathing. "You have to get this under control." The words tasted like ashes on my tongue, a hollow platitude that rang false even to my own ears.

As if summoned by my despair, a spectral voice whispered from the depths of the dingy bathroom, its dulcet tones an incongruous contrast to the squalor that surrounded me. I knew it was Lilly without turning, her presence a balm to my tormented soul.

"It's OK, Alec," she murmured, her phantom hands coming to rest upon my shoulders with a feather-light touch. Her fingers squeezed with gentle reassurance, a silent promise of unwavering support. "You can do this."

Lifting my gaze to the mirror once more, I met Lilly's ethereal eyes, drinking in the serenity that radiated from their luminous depths. As if by some arcane sorcery, a wave of tranquility washed over me, quelling the tempest that raged within my breast.

My eyelids fluttered closed as I surrendered myself to her incorporeal embrace, allowing her steadying presence to anchor me amid the chaos until the last vestiges of panic dissipated like wisps of smoke on an errant breeze.

As I reigned in my emotions, the tears dried, and my pulse steadied. I sighed, dropping my head. The panic subsided, and with it, Lilly's spectral image. Another fleeting presence gone too soon. Part of me yearned for her to stay, but today was not the day to dwell on Lilly, no matter how much I craved it. I had shit to do today, and I refused to tumble into that abyss.

I scrubbed my face with the towel, chasing away the water's chill. A groan escaped me as I studied my reflection; the grime seemed to accumulate on my features despite my efforts. An unwelcome tendril of empathy brushed my consciousness.

"Save it," I growled, my voice razor-edged. "I'm just fine." The presence withdrew at my rebuff, its silence oppressively enveloping my thoughts.

I flung the towel into the basin and retreated to my bedroom. My eyes roamed the room, searching for a shirt as my mind pondered the tainted water. Deep aquifers were our lifeline.

I donned the shirt and strode to the door, a sour scent assaulting my nose. "God, I miss deodorant," I grumbled, thoughts turning to Nicois and his trove of scavenged goods. "Might need to pay him a visit."

I gripped the jury-rigged door handle and thrust it open, revealing the street.