Andrew’s eyes fly open. His mouth forms a perfect, round O but no words come out. His body is hoisted into the air by his throat. Clutching at the strong grip around his neck, he looks down to see a man. The biggest man Andrew has ever seen, with eyes bright as copper flame. He is naked. There are scratches on his face, which only has one good eye, and bullet-hole scars all over his chest, upon which a dragon slithers and hisses. Most of the skin above his dangling penis is gone, exposing a dark, gaping hole where his vital organs ought to be. A hole that could not, and can never, be filled. Andrew tries desperately to pry the man’s fingers from his throat and scream at the same time.

“Nice haircut, ya little jackass. Thought you could fool ol’ Akki, eh? Hang on … you’re not the kid. Where is he? And where’s that yokai chick? I traced her scent all this way. She’s gotta be here!”

Andrew chokes. He can feel his feet dangling in the air. He looks down and sees his own body, stretched out on the floor of his new apartment. Is he sleeping? Is he dreaming? Then why does this feel so real?

“Tough guy, huh?” The giant man laughs. He licks Andrew’s face and neck. “You’re not the boy,” he concludes. “You taste nothin’ like him.” And this is undoubtedly not the demon girl in disguise. Akki can still remember the salty caramel tang of her flesh and blood. He ignores the feeble fingers that leave no claw marks on his skin as the human wriggles and gasps in his grip. What to do, what to do …

Andrew’s eyes roll back into his head. Akki pulls him in close. He homes in on the young man’s features with his one good eye. “Hang on. Your eyes. You’ve got his eyes. Well, not his eyes, but … yeah … lookin’ at you just right … almost the same colour.” Akki licks his lips. “I could … Why not … After I missed my chance with the kid … didn’t take his eyes when I could’ve. Then that bitch went and … yeah. Heh. You know what? I changed my mind. Looks like you’ll do after all, human.”

He presses his lips against Andrew’s face. Andrew croaks in lieu of screaming.

Akki releases his grip. The human slips from his fingers. Coughing violently, Andrew looks up at the demon who savours the gristly flesh between his molars as he chews, and chews, and chews. Something is wrong with his vision. He can only see half of Akki’s face: a demonic, devilish face, with a toothy grin like a shark. “Not bad. Awful chewy, though …” The demon regards Andrew as one might look down upon a squashed insect. “Ah, what the hell? My walls still need a little splash of colour.”