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He was sitting directly in the thick of it. He had seen the Carasaca kill the love of his life. He witnessed his friend, the chief of police, set him up. Even with all of that, he still couldn’t believe that the woman on stage was evil or that a simple chant could cause the apocalypse. He was either going mad, already insane or possessed himself.

Once the show was over, Dontae’ headed down the stairs and towards the stage. He shows his pass to the security and walks backstage. People are all around, and he recognizes most as the opening acts and their entourages. Backstage was smokey, with the smell of weed resonating throughout. Half-dressed females giggled in conversations with guys that seemed so high that Dontae’ wondered if they even knew where they were. Women, weed, and booze? In his younger days, he would have killed to be in this environment. He works his way down the hall to an empty area that was much quieter. He approaches the door and gives a slight smirk as he presents his pass to two guards standing outside of what he knew was Rochelle’s door. The shorter of the two patted him down, then throws his head to say, “go on in motherfucker.”

The room was filled with mostly teens in line waiting to take pictures with the star. He could see her across the room posing with young girl, after young girl. He felt extremely out of place and decided he would go to what looked like the father’s corner. After a while, the place was starting to empty. There were a couple of teens left, and Dontae knew that this was his chance. He steps out of the shadows onto the all-white backdrop surrounded by lights all shining on Rochelle. The photographer flashed the final photo with the last teen. Rochelle's eyes then meet Dontae’s. She is immediately startled, as if she knows why he’s here.

His brain was now ruberbanning in fits of confusion from “this is crazy” to “this is real.”“Did I really see - what did Calvin call it? A Carasaca?” He thought.  It killed Sandy, it killed Calvin, and he killed it. At least that was what he thought, but how could he know for sure. This was far from dealing with the type of evil with which he was familiar. He knew the evil of man, and he knew that a single bullet or a long-drawn-out justice system could stop them. All men feared something, and when you know what that is, it’s easy to use that fear to control any situation. This was something else. These were entities, demons, and maybe even the devil. Dontae’ knew that he had to be the one. The reluctant hero that stories talk about. Fuck a story, fuck a hero, fuck the devil; he wanted his life back, and if killing this Rochelle creature was what he needed to do, then that’s what it shall be. “Don’t fall for its spell,” He told himself. And then, she spoke.  Her muddle words floated out her mouth with a voice much softer than the one she portrayed professionally. “Hi Dontae’”

An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine with the speed of a lightning bolt. His body froze, and his heart started to pound. His internal instincts waned, and his mental state broke from confidence to distortion and back again. He had lost sight of his goal, and for the first time in a long time, Dontae’ didn’t know what to do. Rochelle walked over to her vanity and took a seat. She dabbed a towel in some type of solution and began removing her lipstick.

“Have a seat.” She said, staying focused on her reflection in the mirror.

He walks over and sits on the stool beside her. She turns and looks at him.  For the first time, Dontae’ was looking into the eyes of Rochelle. They were brown, hinted with soul searching, and truly mesmerizing. Dontae’ finally knew why she was so loved by so many. With a half-second glance, he absolutely knew that this wasn’t a monster. He had made a mistake, and the body on the car had to be a doll. Right?

Rochelle’s look of innocence reminded him of a case he once worked. The wife was accused of murdering her husband for his insurance. The husband was twenty years her senior, so that was a red flag but not enough to accuse someone of murder. During the interrogation, he watched as she balled and cried what seemed like tears of pure sadness. Her sweet voice didn’t sound like it could harm any living creature, let alone her husband. Dontae’ asked questions, and he was almost convinced she was innocent until he saw something. For a very, very tiny moment, she broke character. We are talking about microseconds, but he caught it. In that sliver of time, an evil rose to the surface and reared its nasty head. He had to give Rochelle a chance. He couldn’t risk killing an innocent woman. He wasn’t a murderer. Although this wasn’t an interrogation, he would listen and hang onto every word looking for that sliver.

“I’m really happy to see you.” She said with her beautiful voice. She cut her eyes at the guards, who were now the only other people in the room. She then looks back at Dontae’.

“So, what’d you think of the show?” she asked in a way to let the guards know this was general conversation.

There was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew that it wasn’t because he had seen her on TV. There was something else.

“It was amazing.” He replied, not knowing what to say.

Rochelle kept looking towards the door as people continued to weave in and out. She would then seem to snap back into the conversation with a fake smile. He knows this is his chance, and he knows what Calvin said, but the situation had changed. The cards on

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