Moon Eater

The Brooklyn Devil

The tension was ripe as Claire and Ethan stared at each other in front of Maxima Tech. “Well, if it isn’t coffee girl.” Ethan teased. “Did you get lost?” he asked.

“It’s Claire, Gobshite,” Claire bristled. “And in case your huge ego hasn’t caught up, I work here.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s amusing, considering I own this place.”

“What?” Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“I see you didn’t do your research,” Ethan said chuckling. “Not surprising from someone who can’t watch where they’re going.” Claire scowled, but before she could deliver a mocking reply, a voice interrupted them.

“Is everything alright here?” The voice asked; it was the Hispanic woman who interviewed Claire. She emerged from the lobby with a curious expression.

“Of course, Valentina,” Ethan immediately switched to his charming facade. “Just catching up with coffee girl.” He flashed a disingenuous smile.

Valentina eyed them warily. “Claire is the new data analyst we just hired, boss. She aced her interview.”

“Huh?” Ethan’s charming smile cracked.

“She met every criterion, plus she’s funny,” Valentina said calmly. Ethan ran a hand through his wavy, dark hair, clearly agitated. After a terse glaring contest with Valentina, he muttered reluctantly, “Welcome to Maxima, I suppose.”

Claire smirked, sticking out a tongue at him. “Why thank you, Mister Caine.” She teased as she spun on her heel and sauntered inside with an extra sway in her step.

Valentina fought back a laugh as Ethan stood fuming, watching this black-haired beauty saunter into the building.

Claire’s first day at Maxima was busy. As she settled into her seat, analyzing trends and patterns, she’d periodically hear a booming laugh echo from the corner office. Peering over, she glimpsed Ethan casually charming some young intern or employee. His dark hair fell raffishly across electric-blue eyes; this accentuated his modelesque looks. While her coworkers giggled and swooned at his charisma, Claire rolled her eyes. Yet she couldn’t deny he cut an impressive figure in tailored suits that hugged his lean, athletic frame. She watched as Ethan smoothly pitched to investors. He commanded attention as he paced the room with his sleeves rolled to expose toned forearms. His passion and drive were electric, gathering cheers and whoops from employees and investors alike. She also noticed his sweet tooth as he constantly munched on sweets and cakes, just like Edward. What was it with grown men and a sweet tooth?

The end of Claire’s long day couldn’t come soon enough. As she wearily gathered her things. All she craved was Pot Roast at Larry’s Diner with Zoey. Suddenly a roar shook her from her daydream.

Around the corner glided Ethan’s Lamborghini Urus, speeding toward her. With a screech, it stopped right in front of her, and the windows whirred down. Ethan peered out, his wind-swept hair somehow still beautiful, beside him were three gorgeous scantily-clad women. They ran their fingers through Ethan’s hair. They were models from the looks of it.

“Need a lift?” he purred with a sly smirk as his eyes roamed over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

Claire frowned. “I’d rather crawl home than take a ride with your lunatic driving!”

“Ah, you should smile more,” Ethan teased with a wicked glint in his eye. “You look like a gremlin when you frown.”

Before she could clap back, he stepped on the engine and peeled out, tires squealing. As dust billowed around her, Claire let loose a wild string of curses in Gaelic.

Pedestrians paused, staring at the unhinged scene unfolding. Claire glared daggers at Ethan’s taillights, receding into traffic, hoping some catastrophe would unfold and end his self-satisfied smirk for good. With an exasperated sigh, she turned on her heel, muttering angrily as Ethan’s cackling laugh echoed back to her in the wind. He had the last laugh.... for now.

The dimly lit streets seemed emptier as night fell. Claire quickened her pace, unsettled by the day’s strange events. Her thoughts wandered back to Viktor’s pale form being loaded into the ambulance. Those claw marks, she thought. They looked like... Suddenly, a screech from above snapped her from her daydream. On instinct, Claire whirled and snatched something flying toward her head. Cupping it in her palm, she realized with a jolt it was an arrow, its steel tip glinting ominously in the night.

All of a sudden the arrow in her hand let out a shrill cry, similar to the scraping of a chalkboard. She recoiled in pain as the noise pierced her skull. Nearly incapacitated by the overwhelming sound, she threw the arrow away.

Before she could process, more wheezing sounds cut through the air. Claire ducked instinctively as more arrows rained down, narrowly missing her slender frame. But the arrows produced the same irritating chalkboard scratching sound that rang in Claire’s skull. She crouched against a nearby trashcan dazed. She glanced at her phone; it was eight thirty already. “Zoey’s gonna kill me for missing dinner,” she muttered in a vain attempt to calm her nerves. Her head still disoriented from the strange sounds.

Taking a steadying breath, she gazed around the edge to locate what sent these arrows. That’s when a masked figure sprinted towards her, covered head-to-toe in black spandex accentuating a tall, muscled physique. But it was the face that made her blood run cold. Glowing red eyes peered out from the mask and jagged horns.

The masked figure shot another arrow from a crossbow. It whistled past, forcing Claire into a renewed sprint. Ahead, a young couple strolled obliviously with toddlers in tow. Claire decided to cross to the other side of the road so she wouldn't endanger them. She ran into a parking lot filled with cars, with her feet sore all day from wearing heels, hoping to lose her chaser there.

What was happening? Was this what Jackson and Viktor warned her about? Adrenaline surged through Claire as she rolled under the nearest car. She held her breath, listening for the faintest sound of footsteps over her pounding heart. For a moment, there was silence. Then footsteps. The figure strolled around the parking lot, listening for every sign of movement. Her eyes fell on a Renault. She came up with a plan to evade the figure. But she had to time this perfectly. Three...two...one...

She tripped the alarm and sprinted left as an earsplitting wail shattered the quiet. The figure whirled towards the Renault, giving Claire her window. She tripped another alarm and another till the air was filled with wails; the figure stood between the cars, confused about where to go.

Claire seized this window of opportunity and ran towards the exit. “Almost there,” she muttered under her voice. Suddenly, she heard the sound of metal wheezing toward her at an abnormal speed. Her head screamed DODGE, but her body seemed frozen, every fiber frozen as a license plate hurled toward her.

Claire finally threw herself into a shoulder roll as a license plate sliced through the air where she’d been. With a painful thud, Claire collided with a pillar. Gasping, she glanced up. The figure whirled more license plates with insane speed. A metal edge narrowly sliced her cheek, leaving an aching sting. Time seemed to slow down as survival instincts kicked into overdrive; she dodged again, gasping for breath as she collided against the tire of an SUV. Claire grabbed her bleeding forearm. As she hissed in pain. She glanced back at the masked figure and watched in disbelief as it effortlessly kicked a motorcycle in her direction.

“Bollocks!” she exclaimed. At the last second she gathered every ounce of strength and rolled to the side as the motorcycle collided with the SUV behind her with a deafening crunch of metal. Claire needed answers. What was this thing chasing her? And who sent it? She scrapped her thoughts. She needed to survive first. Answers would mean nothing if she was dead. Just then, cries rang out across the parking lot.

“Who’s there?” Two booming voices called out. Claire craned her neck towards the sound and spotted two security guards entering the parking lot with side arms drawn. Claire breathed a sigh of relief as she slipped in between the cars and rushed through the other entrance; as soon as she was out in the open, she burst into a sprint, eager to get away. From a distance, the masked figure watched as Claire ran, and then it slowly slipped into the night.

Claire rushed home, wincing with each step. She quietly retreated to her room, thoughts racing as the adrenaline drained, leaving just exhaustion and pain. With trembling hands, she texted Zoey an excuse for missing dinner, then sank onto her bed.

Her breathing slowly steadied as the night’s impossible events replayed in her mind. Something or someone was definitely hunting her. But why? Dawn light filtering through cracks in the blinds roused Claire from a fitful sleep. Every muscle ached as she sat up. Bruises mottled her arms while dried blood flaked from her cheek wound. With care, she dressed the injuries just enough to avoid questions at work.

A glance in the mirror confirmed her makeup concealed all but a faint scar scraping her cheekbone. She’d tell inquirers it came from a fall, hoping her accelerated healing would leave no evidence of the night’s terrors. With a shaky sigh, Claire steeled herself for the day ahead. She moved robotically through her work, but Ethan also seemed occupied. Their usual verbal sparring was noticeably absent. He left about an hour before closing time. Valentina also gently dismissed her early.

She hurried from the bustling city streets to the warm glow of Larry’s Diner. She spotted a man sitting alone, nursing a cup of coffee. His athletic frame filled out a worn flannel shirt, sleeves cuffed to expose muscular forearms. She walked up to him, waving.“Hi, Matt.

Matt shot her a concerned look. “Whoa, you look horrible.” His brown eyes seemed to lock into every detail.

Claire slumped onto the vinyl seat with a grimace and recounted the harrowing chase in a shaky whisper, pausing to catch her breath. Matt listened intently, fingers steeped in thought. “Have you told Zoey and Annabelle?” He asked. She shivered as she shook her head. “So why come to me?” Matt asked curiously.

Meeting his probing gaze, she replied, “I’ve known you for a long time, Matt. And I know you can help with something like this.” His brow furrowed, then he drew a laptop from his bag and began typing.

“What’re you doing?” Claire asked.

“Surfing the dark web,” Matt replied, eyes still fixated on the laptop. “If what you said is true, we could find the info here.”

There was an air of silence between them as Matt typed for a while. Finally, he broke his silence. “Oh My God.” He said as a feeling of dread washed over his features. “Is this real?”

“What did you find, Matt?” Claire asked curiously. Matt tried to speak, but words couldn’t form; he just showed her the laptop. Claire gasped sharply at the image on Matt’s laptop screen. It was unmistakably the masked figure from the parking lot, but seeing it now sent a fresh wave of fear through her exhausted body.

“That’s what was chasing me.” Claire whispered, her voice trembling. “Is that?”

“Yea,” Matt cut her off as he finally gathered his words. “That’s the Brooklyn devil, Claire. It’s the deadliest bounty hunter in all of Brooklyn, and you’re its target, Claire.”