Behind the stink of charred skin was a reek of death and sulfur.
She wasn’t human.
That should have been obvious at first glance, what with the blackened skin and impossible bone structure, but I’d seen enough truly weird things in my life that I never took anything at face value. Her smell, however, was unmistakable. The sulfur scent was a hallmark of something dark and demonic.
Her mouth opened, wider than a human mouth could, and a horrible, screeching yowl emerged, croaking and grinding like rocks in a blender.
Then she was gone, blowing apart like smoke as the sun rose.
Moments later the shift took me and remade me, leaving me naked and panting on the brick, shivering from the too-recent memory of what I’d seen.
What the hell was she?
And why did I feel like I should know?