I was walking through the forest, and the only thing connecting me to this reality was a monstrous hunger. My head was empty. Who am I? Where am I? Whatever. If I didn't eat in the next ten minutes, I’d start gnawing on tree bark, and that clearly wasn't something... someone like me should be doing.

  Up ahead, through the thick branches, a light flickered. A fire.

  I didn't waste time walking.

  POP.

  I materialized right by the campfire. A girl was sitting there. She looked like an ordinary, even pretty girl, if you ignored the fact that her aura was vibrating like she was about to explode. She was roasting meat on a spit, and the smell was simply divine.

  "Hey," I said, sitting down on a log opposite her. "Smells good. Give me a piece?"

  She didn't even flinch. She slowly raised her head. In her eyes, there wasn't a drop of warmth. Only hatred.

  "You came," she spat. "Zenhald. You jerk."

  "Oh," I arched an eyebrow. "So you know me? That’s good. It means you know where the nearest town with normal food is."

  "I came here to kill you," she squeezed the handle of the spit so hard the wood creaked. "To erase you. To reset you so that not even ash remains of your soul."

  I looked at the meat, which was starting to char.

  "So why aren't you killing me?" I asked, lazily scratching my cheek. "I’m sitting here right now, open from all sides. One precise strike—and that’s it. What are you waiting for? An official invitation?"

  The girl grit her teeth. Her white radiance flared for a second and then went out.

  "Not now."

  "Why?"

  "I’m gathering strength," she viciously poked the fire with the spit. "You're too... complex. You blew me up last time, and now I need time to restore my potential for the final strike. Consider yourself on a temporary reprieve. Until I become strong enough to finish you off for good."

  "Listen, since you're going to follow me around anyway and wait for the moment you become 'cool'... What’s your name? 'White Nothingness' is a bit long."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Secret," she snapped.

  "Secret?" I grimaced. "Fine then. I’ll call you Cloudy."

  She growled, and the forest suddenly turned cold.

  "I will kill you, Zenhald. I swear."

  I reached for the meat. It sizzled so appetizingly on the fire that I could almost hear my stomach giving a standing ovation.

  WHACK.

  She hit my hand. It didn't hurt, but it was annoying. I waited a second and again reached my palm toward the coveted spit.

  WHACK.

  The second strike was sharper.

  "Listen, Cloudy," I muttered, "greed is one of the seven deadly sins. You have to share."

  I began to move my hand toward the juicy piece slowly—demonstratively slowly. I saw her fingers tighten on the handle of a massive wooden ladle.

  CRACK!

  She slammed it down on my hand with such force that the ladle shattered into splinters. Pieces of wood flew across the clearing, and my hand... well, it itched a little.

  "GET OUT!" she shrieked, jumping up. Her aura flashed white like a burnt-out lightbulb. "Vanish! Begone! Fall into the Void!"

  "HEY! LET ME EAT!" I protested, also standing up. "You're the one who's... a senile old bat!"

  She stomped her foot, and a wave of white light radiated from her.

  "Senile brat!" she spat back.

  "You are! And you're a... a... JERK!"

  I paused. I took a closer look. Actually, Cloudy was quite beautiful. Even with an angry face and enveloped in a cloud of magical rage. But I didn't admit that out loud, of course. That would be too much honor.

  I sharply changed tactics.

  POP.

  I materialized on the other side of the fire, already almost grabbing the spit. But she reacted with frightening speed—she simply lifted the meat and the stick high over her head.

  POP.

  I was right above her, in the air.

  POP.

  And there it was—the blessed piece of meat! I tore it off mid-flight and landed on my log, already working my jaws vigorously.

  She turned around, literally boiling with rage. Her white glow began to vibrate.

  "YOU! YOU'RE JUST A PARASITE!" she screamed. "A vile insect!"

  "Mmm..." I chewed, closing my eyes blissfully. "You know, it clearly needs more salt. And some garlic. Try harder next time."

  "WHY I OUGHTA—"

  I didn't get to finish before I received a massive slap to the back of the head. My head rang for a second.

  "Hey!" I looked at her indignantly, quickly shoving the rest of the meat into my mouth. "I’m just hungry. The organism requires proteins and fats."

  I wiped my greasy hands on my pants and looked at her with genuine curiosity.

  "By the way, Cloudy. Why are you even making food? You're a Demon of Fear. Aren't you supposed to feed on screams, nightmares, and all that boring stuff? Why do you need a spit?"

  "Developing the vessel," she cut me off, sitting back down and staring at the fire. "So that one fine day I can accumulate enough power to erase everything living from this earth. But first—you. Personally. Piece by piece."

  "But why me first? What did I do to you?"

  She raised her eyes to mine, and the flames of the campfire reflected in them.

  "BECAUSE YOU'RE A JERK! That’s why!"

  I froze. My feelings were actually hurt.

  "Why 'jerk' all of a sudden?" I felt my face. "My nose is straight, my ears aren't floppy, eyes... well, eyes are eyes. But 'jerk' is a bit too critical. I’d say I'm attractive."

  She didn't answer, only poked at the embers viciously with a stick. I looked at her, then at the fire.

  "You are unbearable," she said.