After school, Verónica returned home along with her two little sisters and little brother.
The apartment was small, worn, and dimly lit—
Flickering fluorescent light in the kitchen, cracks along the corners of the ceiling.
A fan hummed weakly in the living room.
The faint noise of traffic drifted in through a half-open window.
Verónica set her schoolbag aside and called out softly.
"Raúl… Lucía and Irene… we're home."
Her little brother, Raúl, rushed to the couch, throwing his backpack beside it.
Lucía and Irene, the youngest, twin girls no older than eight, kicked off their shoes and headed straight for the dining table, already pulling out colored pencils and notebooks.
The apartment didn't have much,
But it was home—
Familiar, lived-in, and loved.
Verónica checked the kitchen.
"____"
Her mother's apron still hung near the sink.
The clock ticked past 6:47 PM.
As expected—
No sign of their mother yet.
She rolled up her sleeves, tying her hair back, and began pulling out ingredients from the cupboard.
Tomatoes. Onions.
Pasta.
A cracked bottle of olive oil.
"We'll have spaghetti tonight."
She said aloud, her voice soft but warm.
"Yay!"
Irene shouted from the other room.
As the water boiled and the pan sizzled,
Verónica's smile slowly faded.
Her gaze drifted to the faded kitchen calendar, where June 15th was circled.
And her mind slipped back...
FLASHBACK...
SCHOOL...
Sunlight filtered in through the tall windows, casting golden beams across the dusty desks.
A chalkboard creaked as Señora Miranda, their history teacher, continued her lesson with dramatic flair.
"During a solar eclipse, ancient tribes believed the veil between the living and the dead thinned. Some… even performed ritual sacrifices to appease evil spirits or harness their power."
She turned toward the students, holding up dark eclipse-viewing films like glasses.
"But today, you're only watching the eclipse—not inviting anything, sí?"
The class chuckled nervously.
Chuckle~
Verónica forced a small laugh, her hands fiddling with her pen.
She could feel Rosa nudging her from behind, whispering excitedly.
SCHOOL TERRACE...
Students gathered on the open rooftop.
A warm breeze swept across the concrete as kids laughed, sharing glasses and swapping stories.
The sun slowly began to dim, casting a surreal twilight over the city.
"Come on,"
Rosa whispered.
Verónica turned to see Rosa and two other girls—
Marina and Carla—
waving at her from the stairwell.
"We're going somewhere better. Something special."
Verónica hesitated—
"____"
Then followed.
SCHOOL BASEMENT...
STORAGE ROOM...
The room was musty and filled with stacked desks, torn charts, and broken science equipment.
The air was cold, unnaturally cold for summer.
But what caught Verónica's eye was the setup in the centre.
A chalk-drawn circle, ringed with salt.
Six black candles, flickering despite the stillness.
At the centre—
A weathered Ouija board, its letters faded with age.
"Rosa… what is this?"
Verónica whispered.
"It's just a game,"
Rosa said, smiling too widely.
"But this is the perfect time. During the eclipse, it's easier to reach the other side."
"Besides,"
Marina added, lighting the last candle,
"Don't you want to talk to someone... maybe your dad?"
Verónica's throat tightened.
"____"
She didn't reply.
She stepped forward.
The room dimmed further.
Above them, the sunlight vanished completely—
A total eclipse.
The ritual starts...
Three fingers on the glass.
The air now felt heavy, suffocating.
"Spirit… if you're here,"
Rosa called out,
"Move the planchette."
Nothing.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Then—
sliiide.
It shifted.
Marina gasped.
Carla backed away, whispering,
"That wasn't me…"
Rosa grinned nervously.
Grin~
"Let's ask who it is."
"WHO. ARE. YOU?"
Verónica asked, each word like ice on her tongue.
The air turned colder with every second.
Shadows twisted unnaturally around them as the glass moved again.
Rosa frowned, looking sceptical.
"Is this… really a spirit?"
The planchette jerked to YES.
The girls held their breath.
"____"
Rosa, still holding her ground, glanced at the old photograph of Verónica's father placed beside the board—
Used to anchor the ritual.
"Is this Verónica's father?"
NO.
A beat of silence.
"____"
"Then who are you?"
The glass slid slowly, eerily deliberate.
S – P – Y
Rosa's face paled.
"Spy? Of whom?"
Before she could finish, the glass on the board shifted, dragging itself toward the carved sun symbol in the centre.
It began to heat up, glowing faintly red.
"Stop it. STOP IT,"
Marina cried, pulling her hand back.
Carla yanked hers too, trembling.
But Verónica didn't let go.
She sat still.
Eyes half-lidded.
Breathing slowly.
The glass began to shake.
Vibrate.
Then—
CRACK!!
It shattered violently, splinters spraying across the floor.
Screams erupted.
But Verónica didn't move.
She remained seated, staring blankly, as if still touching something that wasn't there.
Blood dripped from a deep cut on her index finger, trailing down…
Drip… drip… drip…
The blood fell onto the sun symbol—
A few precise drops soak into the board.
Rosa stumbled back, horrified.
She accidentally kicked over a candle.
The flame snuffed out.
Then—
woof! Woof! Woof!—
The others followed.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Only the flicker of a phone flashlight broke the black.
"Where's Verónica?"
Marina whispered.
The beam searched…
There she was—
Collapsed on the ground, limp.
"Verónica?"
Carla stepped closer.
"Hey, wake up!"
They knelt beside her.
Suddenly—
Verónica's eyes snapped open.
"____"
Wide, unblinking, a dull red sheen in them.
Her lips twitched.
"…des...te...no...rojo…"
Unintelligible whispers poured from her mouth, over and over.
Her pupils shook violently.
Rosa leaned in—
Too close.
In an instant—
Verónica sat up straight.
Her mouth opened wide in a silent scream—
Unnaturally wide.
And then—
Lunged.
Her hand clamped tightly around Rosa's throat.
"YOUR DEATH… IS IN MY HANDS!"
Rosa screamed, struggling—
But then—
THUD!
Verónica collapsed.
Unconscious.
The room fell deathly silent.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Only the flickering light…
And the echo of something awakened.
FLASHBACK ENDS...
After dinner, she put her siblings in their respective bedrooms.
Verónica returned to her bedroom to sleep.
NIGHT...
VERÓNICA'S BEDROOM...
The house was quiet.
Her younger siblings were asleep in the next room, their soft breathing the only comfort Verónica had left.
She sat at the desk, lit only by the dim screen of her old laptop.
Her fingers trembled over the keyboard.
Her eyes were red—
Sleepless nights.
Her face, pale—
Like colour was slowly draining out of her soul.
Outside the window, the streetlight flickered.
She tried not to look at the reflection in the glass anymore.
FLASHBACK...
HOSPITAL ROOM...
The teacher stood at the foot of the bed, nervously fidgeting while a nurse checked Verónica's vitals.
Rosa, Marina, and Carla stood in a corner, shaken but silent.
"She just fainted."
Rosa lied, eyes averted.
The teacher nodded hesitantly, buying the lie.
Nod~
Verónica lay still, her mind foggy… but somewhere deep inside, she remembered that thing.
"____"
The word "spy",
The burning glass,
The voice that wasn't hers.
SCHOOL HALLWAY...
WEEK LATER...
Whispers followed her wherever she went.
The girls who once laughed with her at lunch now turned their backs, staring like strangers—
Or worse, enemies.
Rosa passed her by without a glance.
When Verónica finally gathered the courage to ask what was happening,
Rosa snapped.
"Don't talk to me again."
And just like that—
Friendship ended.
Worse, Verónica don't know the reason for it.
VERÓNICA'S APARTMENT...
KITCHEN...
NIGHT...
She stirred the pot, robotically making dinner for her younger siblings.
But her eyes kept drifting toward the dark hallway behind her.
A shadow had moved there last night.
She was sure of it.
"____"
The smell of rotting flowers lingered near her room.
The TV turned on at 3:33 a.m., volume maxed.
Her drawings were torn apart by invisible hands.
Worst of all—
Her siblings started to act strangely.
Her little brother spoke to the empty corners of the room.
Her younger sister began drawing the same black sun symbol from the Ouija board without knowing why.
When Verónica told her mother,
She was met with disbelief.
"Stop it! You'll scare them. If you don't stop, I'll take your laptop away too."
The warning was sharp.
FLASHBACK ENDS...
VERÓNICA'S BEDROOM...
Desperate,
She searched online—
Anything about curses, spirits, solar eclipses, ouija boards gone wrong.
Paranormal forums.
Demon sightings.
Urban legends.
Nothing helped.
Until…
A strange pop-up, masked as an ancient parchment banner, appeared at the bottom of her screen:
"Are you being hunted? Haunted? Has something followed you back from the other side?
We believe you.
DMC – Devil May Cry Paranormal Services
Click here to file a report."
Her heartbeat quickened.
"____"
She clicked.
The page loaded slowly—
A gothic interface filled with reports, strange glyphs, and a hotline number that didn't look normal.
There was a field to submit a complaint.
She didn't care if it was fake.
Her fingers typed as fast as they could.
"My name is Verónica. Something followed me after a ritual during the eclipse. I think it's trying to hurt my siblings. I don't know who else to turn to. Please… help me."
She hit SEND.
For a long moment, the screen remained still.
"____"
Then—
A message flashed:
"Case received. Stand by."
She stared at the screen.
And behind her…
From the corner of the room…
A whisper that wasn't hers echoed.
"He heard you."
While she waited for help, hoping they would arrive soon.
TWO DAYS LATER...
MADRID...
MAD AIRPORT....
Madrid-Barajas Airport buzzed with life as Jojo and Inadu emerged from the arrival gate, their presence cutting subtly through the crowd like a quiet storm.
While the others remained behind, the decision had been mutual—
Inadu would accompany him to Spain alone.
The moment they stepped into the fresh evening air,
Inadu pulled her coat tighter, scanning the unfamiliar skyline.
"Feels... heavy here,"
She murmured, almost to herself.
Jojo nodded without looking at her.
Nod~
"Let's go..."
They hailed a cab and made their way to the hotel near the city centre.
It was a quiet place tucked between cobbled streets and historic stone buildings, the kind that whispered forgotten stories through their walls.
After checking in and freshening up, they sat by the window in their room,
Streetlight casting gold on the table.
Jojo took out his phone, glanced at the notes from the complaint filed, then dialled the number Veronica had provided.
Back in Seville,
The bell had just rung for the final period at School.
Veronica sat in the third row from the back,
Her eyes fixed on the blackboard as her literature teacher scribbled something about Cervantes and tragic heroes.
That's when it happened.
RING.
Her mobile, hidden deep in her satchel, buzzed to life.
The sound was muffled, but sharp enough to snap the teacher mid-sentence.
The chalk in her hand froze an inch above the board.
Every pair of eyes turned.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Verónica's heart sank.
She could feel the heat of embarrassment burning in her cheeks as she fumbled for the phone.
An unknown number.
Her breath hitched.
Before she could silence it, her teacher's voice cut through the air.
"Señorita Álvarez!"
she barked.
"Out. Now!"
Verónica didn't argue.
She stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, slung her bag over her shoulder, and hurried out into the corridor with a sigh.
Sigh~
"____"
Once the door shut behind her, silence returned to the class—
But a storm had begun outside it.
She leaned against the wall, stared at the screen.
The number was still calling.
Swallowing down the anxiety that twisted in her gut,
She pressed Accept.
"Hola?"
She whispered, voice unsteady.
"Verónica Álvarez?"
A deep voice from the other end.
Calm.
Grounded. Male.
"This is Jojo. You contacted DMC."
Her breath hitched again.
"You're… real?"
"I wouldn't be calling if I weren't."
He said.
"We're in Spain now. Me one of my partners. We want to help—but we'll need to talk. In person."
Verónica glanced nervously down the corridor, her thumb twitching on the edge of her phone.
"I—I can't leave school until four,"
She said.
"But there's an old train station. No one goes there. I'll be alone."
A pause.
"Perfect,"
Jojo replied.
"And Verónica... don't look at your reflection for too long."
Click.
The call ended.
Verónica stood frozen, the phone still pressed to her ear.
The hallway, once warm and noisy, now felt impossibly distant.
She slowly turned her head toward the windows lining the corridor—
Glass panes lined the wall, old and slightly warped.
In the closest pane, her reflection stared back.
But its mouth... was smiling.
And hers wasn't.
As time passed.
As the final bell rang, students poured out of the School like a flood.
Veronica kept her head down, weaving through the crowd with purpose.
The air felt thick, as if something unseen weighed on her shoulders.
With every step toward the old train station on the edge of town, her heartbeat quickened.
The station had long been abandoned—
It's a broken clock tower frozen in time, rusted rails vanishing into the overgrown horizon.
Veronica stood near the crumbling bench beneath a flickering lamppost, clutching her bag, scanning the shadows.
A sudden hand landed on her shoulder.
She gasped and turned sharply.
Gasp~
"____"
A woman stood there, unfamiliar—
Tall, striking and a quiet confidence in her posture.
Her eyes, however, held something ancient and unreadable.
"You're Veronica,"
The woman said, her voice calm but firm.
Veronica nodded warily.
Nod~
"Come."
The woman turned and walked away without waiting.
After a hesitant pause,
"____"
Veronica followed, glancing back once before leaving the eerie platform behind.
They exited through a side gate and cut through a narrow alley before stepping into a quiet street.
A small restaurant waited at the corner—
Dim lighting, warm interiors, and the faint aroma of grilled meat and herbs.
RESTAURANT...
The bell above the door jingled as they entered.
Chime~
Inside, a man sat at a booth near the back, curiously dipping a piece of bread into different sauces like a food critic with no time for menus.
His silver hair, dark coat, and leather gloves stood out, but it was his presence—
Solid, like gravity—
That made Veronica stop in her tracks.
The woman took a seat opposite him.
Veronica hesitated, then slid in beside her, clutching the strap of her bag tightly in her lap.
"So,"
The man said without looking up, still focused on the food,
"You're the girl who opened the wrong door."
Veronica blinked.
"W-what?"
Jojo finally glanced up, his sharp eyes studying her.
"____"
Veronica felt her stomach drop.
Her mouth was dry.
"You believe me?"
She whispered.
Inadu, the woman beside her, leaned back slightly.
"That thing has been circling you like a starving dog. It hasn't attacked yet… because it's playing. Feeding off your fear. And now, it's looking at your siblings."
Jojo wiped his fingers, reached into his coat, and placed a small silver object on the table. It glowed faintly.
"You filed the complaint."
He said.
"Now we're here to help. But once we start… there's no going back."
Veronica stared at the object, her thoughts a whirlwind.
"What is it?"
She asked softly.
Jojo smirked.
Smirk~
"The first step. Kick some ass."
Outside, wind whispered past the restaurant windows.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************
(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!!