When I open up my eyes, the night was looking back at me with its scattered stars, while the moonlight illuminated my path. It was very cold, and I kept moving to conserve what little warmth was still inside me.
I knew the forest was dangerous, much more so in early winter, when the animals hid to sleep and the monsters came out to hunt, but if there was a slim chance of survival outside, there was none in the village.
My eyes filled with tears as I remembered my escape from the place I had called home for so many years, the betrayal and suffering from discovering that it was nothing more than a slaughterhouse, a glass box for freaks like us, the Isha, who endowed with the power to see the unseen served as tools, and in the worst cases, entertainment. Apparently, many people enjoyed watching someone being tormented by demons that could not be seen or heard.
I could no longer move as easily, the lack of food and tension eating my sanity, the last defense I had against them, the Unseen, the ones that don't show themselves until the person is about to die.
I didn't know I was a special Isha until I discovered that there were monsters that only I saw. Demons of darkness that roamed aimlessly until they found a person weak enough to die within hours, I called them Baahi.
Branches thundered behind me, and I quickened my pace, clutching tightly the gray scarf around my neck. Hollow voices and intelligible murmurs began to sound, alerting me to their presence, reminding me once again that I had not escaped alone... and Nala's sacrifice to ensure my escape.
It is possible to manipulate and control the creatures to some degree, by offering sacrifices of flesh and blood, you could make them obey a few simple commands, such as capturing a runaway.
My breath hitches and with my skills I follow the trail left by a fox nearby, I can feel the Baahi approaching, a coldness more intense than from the snow that has begun to fall, I grit my teeth, and with a last impulse I run after the fox's trail, spotting a den with the animal fast asleep.
Likewise, if they came to you and offered them a sacrifice to their liking, they would leave without looking back. We understood too late, and by the time I knew what had happened, Nala was dead. With my hands shaking, I pulled a sharp knife out of my clothes and crept closer to the fox.
In one motion, I cut off the animal's head, its red blood staining the now white floor, covering my cold, slightly bluish hands with its warmth. In that instant, I feel a presence over my shoulder. My hair stands on end, so afraid that I can't even move. Baahi are incorporeal until the moment their prey is about to be devoured. Its head was large, humanoid with apparent slimy texture, as it seemed to drip a kind of black slime all over its body, from its eyeless face and sharp white teeth, through its long, skeletal body to its hands, long with claws so sharp that with a single touch it could cut stone or steel.
With his head on my right shoulder, I don't risk moving in the slightest, sweating cold from head to toe and trembling with terror. Slowly it runs its hand over my other shoulder, grasping both the fox's head and body, dripping fresh blood that from the heat can still show a little steam. It stands up, leaving me on the ground, kneeling and numb from the imminent danger that takes me a couple of seconds to react. Patiently, I hold my position for a few minutes without hearing anything, and decide it's time to turn around when I come face to face with the face of a Baahi with its teeth bared, opening its jaw the size of my head. I can see inside because of the peculiar way he opens his mouth, past the three rows of sharp teeth and his long, smelly tongue, to the pit of his stomach where I catch a glimpse of a pair of blue eyes looking back at me along with a blue brooch, an exceptional combination with a gray scarf.