Cheeky Nibbles

Artifact Equipped—Codename: Frank.

The notification blinked into view, bright and intrusive, before I swiped it away.

The demon’s name was my doing—he refused to give me its real one, said my mortal tongue would butcher it beyond recognition. Though, part of me suspected he simply couldn’t remember it.

“We’re in deep, Frank. I don’t have time for your usual bullshit.”

Oh, forgive me, Your Majesty. Seven years cooped up in the luxurious accommodations of 123 Dusty Box Under the Floorboard, and I’m not allowed a little chit-chat? You could’ve stashed me somewhere with a window, you know. Pretty sure I’ve lost my tan.

“You don’t have skin,” I shot back, biting down the frustration. Arguing with a jacket—my life in a goddamn nutshell.

I resent that , Frank retorted, his tone cutting through my thoughts like a dull blade. ‘Skin’ is all I have left. I’m a demon bound to leather, much in the same way as you are a schmuck bound to that pathetic meat sack you call a body. Speaking of which, you’re looking a bit more droopy than usual. Like someone left a block of cheese out in the sun and forgot about it. Time hasn’t been kind to you, Jack. You haven’t been doing those exercises we talked about, have you?

“One more word, and I’ll stuff you back in that box, bury it twelve feet under—I swear,” I snarled, voice low, mean, and half a second from snapping. The silence that followed was thick, like a sulking child retreating to the corner. That’s more like it. Now, I need your help. I focused on the telepathic link, trying to reach him with my mind. It was strange, like speaking through tin cans connected by string. Funny—I used to be good at this.

There was nothing but silence in response. “Frank, you hear me?”

Still nothing. I gritted my teeth and took a slow, steady breath. This—this was why he got the box.

Oh, may I speak now? Does His Grace allow it? Frank’s voice oozed mockery, each word a needle stabbing at my sanity. You stash me away for years and then drag me out whenever it suits you. I feel used, Jack. And I don’t like it.

“What do you want me to say?” I muttered, voice hushed, ears pricked for the slightest shuffle outside.

You know what I want you to say.

I stared into the middle distance, my patience fraying like a threadbare suit. “Fine. I need you, Frank.”

A long pause. “Okay?”

Silence.

I squeezed my eyes shut, grinding out the words. “And... I’m sorry.”

Was that so hard, Jackie?

“We good now? You willing to help?”

I live to serve, Master Jack, he said, sarcasm dripping like blood from a fresh wound. What’s the order of the day?

“Information. I need everything you know about this key.”

The pause that followed crawled under my skin, making me wonder if the demon was actually thinking—or just toying with me.

Hmmm. Old. Definitely old. Has that ancient reek, you know? Like something from back when I was still ripping souls apart for fun. This thing’s been around for centuries, easy. How’d you get your grubby paws on it?

The sound of breaking glass cut through our exchange. I pocketed my permit card and slid the floor panel back into place. Heavy footsteps thudded from downstairs, growing louder with each passing second. I pressed myself behind the door, holding my breath.

Wait a second, did I need to breathe? I wondered.

Why wouldn’t you need to breathe? And why do you smell… like that? What’s going on, Jack?

Hell’s pits, I’d forgotten how much I hated this. I never did figure out how he could see and smell without eyes or nose. “Remember boundaries, Frank?”

Oh, but where’s the fun in that?

Suddenly, a pair of hands appeared, clutching a glinting gun. Without hesitation, I slammed the door onto the hands, using all my strength to knock them off balance. A gunshot rang out in the enclosed space. Like lightning, I grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it over my shoulder in a swift motion. His elbow cracked and bent at an odd angle, his pained scream filling the air.

Another man burst into the room. In a split second, I aimed and fired three quick shots from the stolen gun—two in his chest, one to his head. His body crumpled to the ground with a satisfying thud. I quickly reloaded the gun with bullets from the first man’s belt. The injured man on the ground tried to stand, but I kicked him in the side of his knee, causing him to collapse again in agony.

Now this is more like it. If the demon could smile, he would’ve been smiling then.

“You can jump in any time,” I whispered.

Oh, you seem to have everything under control.

I moved toward the stairs, keeping my gun ready. Each step down I was descending further into a lion’s den. The sounds from the bar below grew clearer; bottles clinking, footsteps shuffling, the indistinct murmur of voices.

As I reached the bottom, I saw them—more goons, rifling through shelves, smashing bottles of top-shelf liquor like it was amateur hour. The coat stretched itself wide, flexing as if caught in a windstorm.

Ah, it is good to be out again, Frank said.

I stepped out, firing. Bullets shattered glass and splintered wood, a symphony of destruction. Goons ducked behind the bar, scrambling for cover. They returned fire, bullets thudding into the bar, nicking the fireplace and sending shards of brick flying.

I dove behind a table, reloading in a flash. Popping up, I took out two more goons. Chaos erupted, the bar turning into a battlefield of debris and spilled booze. Murphy was definitely not going to be happy about this. There went my deposit. I winced at the thought of my tab.

I slithered on my belly toward the garage; the floor littered with debris. A barrage of bullets whizzed past me, the sharp cracks piercing the air. What was once a peaceful bar was now a war zone. Splinters of wood, jagged glass, and streaks of blood scattered across the ground like shards of deadly confetti.

I inched closer to safety. Every inch a hard-fought victory against the madness outside.

Frank’s voice echoed in my head, clearly amused. Enjoying yourself, Jack?

“Shut up, Frank,” I muttered, gritting my teeth. The day just kept getting better.

As I entered the garage, a hulking figure barreled into me with brute force. The impact sent me staggering back, gasping for breath as a sharp pain shot through my side. I fell to my knees, cradling my wounded abdomen where the knife had sliced through my coat and skin. But it wasn’t a simple cut—the fabric of my coat seemed to writhe and twist with a malevolent energy.

Pain seared through Frank, his words coming out in a sharp hiss. That hurt.

In an instant, I was on my feet, fueled by Frank’s raw rage flowing through me. My hands curled into fists, ready to unleash their fury upon the goon who stabbed me. The man’s fear was palpable as my fists landed with brutal force, each strike accompanied by a sickening thud.

Two more hulking goons slithered into the dimly lit garage, their beady eyes trained on me like predators stalking their prey. But as soon as Frank’s commands took over my body, I moved with lethal fluidity, my muscles pulsing with deadly precision. The smirks on their faces quickly faded as they realized they were no match for the possessed man before them.

They advanced cautiously, but it was too late. In one swift motion, I was upon them, unleashing an onslaught of unbridled strength and ferocity that left them crumpled and lifeless on the cold floor.

But there was no time to revel in my victory. The sound of gunshots echoed through the garage as I burst through the door leading to the house. I found myself in a chaotic scene, shadows flickering at the corners of my vision. More goons emerged from the darkness, their guns aimed straight at me.

Without hesitation, I fired back with deadly accuracy, taking one out. The rest charged at me, but I met them head-on using every weapon at my disposal—including the butt of my gun and swift kicks—to incapacitate them. I was feeling strange. Dizzy. Confused. Moving without thinking.

In a terrifying dance, we moved in perfect sync. Blood spattered across the walls and floor as I fought for my life, each move fueled by rage and survival instinct.

The hunger gnashed at me, more intense than ever before. It was like a beast inside me, clawing to get out. And when the last goon fell to the ground with a thud, the hunger overwhelmed me. A notification flared through the haze:

System Notification

Ability Activated: Consume (Forced)

Ability Activated: Rage (Forced)

Before I realized what I was doing, I was on him, teeth sinking into his flesh. The taste of blood was both revolting and intoxicating. I couldn’t stop myself, my instincts overriding my reason.

Jack! What are you doing? Frank’s voice was a distant murmur in the haze.

Blood dripped from my mouth, the goon’s flesh torn where I bit him.

Jack! For heaven’s sake, this is disgusting. I demand you stop this right now.

I slipped further away. There was a pause as Frank assessed me. When he spoke next, his tone was firmer, a steadying force.

Focus, Jack. Don’t let whatever this is control you.

I felt Frank forcing his way into my mind; a lighthouse in the storm. I focused on it.

With immense effort, I tore myself away from the goon, forcing the primal urge back down. My stomach still clawed at me. Horror and disgust washed over me. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to steady my breathing. “Thanks, Frank,” I muttered, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and revulsion.

Pain detonated behind my eyes, intense enough to steal my breath.

“Not now,” I growled through clenched teeth.

Another System glitch, another warning flashed red and urgent before it disappeared. Short, merciless, and impossible to ignore. I knew what it meant: the System was spiraling, breaking down, leaving pieces of itself lodged in my skull.

-%1 to Humanity.

Warning : Humanity Levels Critically Low.

Humanity : 10% ( Cybernetic Enhancements : 41%, Aetheric Corruption : 49%)

Critical Failure Imminent.

To prevent catastrophic side effects, reduce Enhancement Load or Aetheric Corruption immediately.

System Integrity: 41%

Jack... what happened to you? Frank’s voice carried a rare note of concern.

“Take a look for yourself,” I said, opening my mind and memories fully to him.

The moment froze, stretched taut. And then, Frank spoke again, realization dawning. Why didn’t you tell me?

“The smell didn’t give it away?” I asked.

I thought you were merely getting old. In all fairness, it’s not too different from your usual smell.

“You didn’t notice the lack of a beating heart?” I snorted. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

We need to talk about this.

“Later. Right now, we need to find Cali.”

I sprinted towards Murphy’s sleek black car. I fumbled with the hot-wiring as my hands shook in hunger. The engine roared to life as gunfire erupted behind us. I slammed my foot on the accelerator; the tires screeching as we tore through the garage door in a shower of splintered wood and twisted metal, leaving behind the destruction.

Frank’s torn fabric slowly stitched itself back together.

We headed for Cali’s, taking several loops and doubling back to make sure no one was following me.