Fungal Halo

When I was at my lowest, that's when she came for me. I had nothing and no one to care for me. I was delirious and dying, and when I was gone, no one would mark my passing. Maybe that's how she found me, even. Suffering like mine was a beacon to a certain kind of creature.

When it comes to summoning demons, most folks think of summoning circles drawn in blood or portals glowing brightly in mid-air. Sure, they're flashy and the most obvious ways to summon a Big One, but that's not how most demons arrive here.

The problem with dolls is that they are flexible enough to be as cognitohazardous as they need to be.

With so many different shapes and sizes and tendencies, they can find a slot to fill in your imagination, become whatever inspires you, then squeeze their way in.

Another sneeze. She wasn't sure what to do about how hard it was becoming to stifle them. This time she just barely had time to bring the handkerchief to her face.

She folded it quickly before shoving it back in her bag, trying to ignore the mold increasingly covering it.

The small group of angels awaits the return of their sister, sent to vanquish a creature that had begun to threaten the Divine Order.

Their sister is strong and brave, and her halo burns with such ferocity. There is no way it could vanquish her.

Ah! Here she comes!

I must be careful. It is frighteningly easy to forget what sleeps in my blood, but as long as I take sufficient care, we will all stay safe. I will not need to be caged.

I'll find the cure for myself, and nobody will need to learn about my lapse of judgment.

They call this place an infirmary. They act as though this is a place of medicine, as though they offer treatment for the illness that saps us of strength and dignity and independence.

It is not. It is an altar on which they sacrifice us for the sake of worthier souls.

"Do you think we got her in time?"

"Yeah! I mean, pretty sure."

"She was so determined to join those freaks, though… What if we were too late?"

"We're not! She's fine. She's still, y'know, untouched. Still good."

"How can you tell?"

"Just look! She's still—"