News Station Down

The night shift at Channel 8 News was typically uneventful, a steady stream of mundane tasks and routine broadcasts.

The hum of monitors, the rustle of paper, the low chatter of reporters preparing for the morning news- all of it was familiar, almost comforting.

But tonight, something felt different. The air was thick with tension, and it wasn't just the occasional flicker of the lights or the low whir of the ventilation system. It was something else, something unspoken, that crept through the walls of the building.

For Chris and Rob, the two men on night duty, the shift had started just like any other. They were manning the phones, responding to emails, and getting ready for the early morning broadcast when the call came in.

Chris had just settled into his chair, eyes glazed over as he skimmed through reports, when the phone rang. He picked it up without thinking, his mind still focused on the screen in front of him.

"Channel 8 News," he answered, his voice flat.

The voice on the other end was strained, urgent, nearly frantic.

"There's a Magi loose in London, in London Square," the voice said, the words almost tumbling over one another. "You need to alert the authorities-get the word out. It's already escalating, the Hunters are nowhere to be seen, and—" The line crackled, cutting off the rest of the message. The voice disappeared into a hiss of static.

Chris's blood went cold. The word "Magi" echoed in his mind, and he slowly turned his head to Rob, who had heard the entire conversation. Rob's face was ashen, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

"Did he just say… a Magi?" Rob asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Chris nodded, his stomach churning. He knew what a Magi was, though it was a subject they usually avoided discussing. The stories, the rumors- Magi were beings of immense power, creatures said to be capable of manipulating the very fabric of reality. They were far from human, feared and hunted by an organization known as the Hunters Association.

Chris swallowed hard, trying to process the sudden onslaught of terror. "We- we need to contact the Hunters Association," he said, his voice shaking. "They'll know what to do."

But the panic had already begun to settle in.

Rob's hand reached for his phone, but Chris could see the fear in his eyes—the kind of fear that came from knowing there was no good outcome to this situation.

A Magi loose in London? That was a disaster waiting to happen.

The scream cut through the tension.

A high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek echoed from the hallway outside the newsroom, followed by the unmistakable sounds of chaos: running footsteps, panicked voices, the frantic scuffle of bodies. It was enough to snap both men out of their shock, a cold, gut-wrenching instinct kicking in.

"That's not normal," Rob said, already on his feet. His hand hovered near the small gun he kept in his desk drawer, but his face was tight with anxiety. "Something's happening. This isn't just a Magi; it's a damn catastrophe."

Chris's heart pounded in his chest. "Stay sharp. We don't know what we're dealing with, but it's serious. We've got to get out of here. Grab your weapon."

Both men moved quickly now, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Chris grabbed his jacket, pulling it on as they hurried toward the exit. The sound of screams grew louder, closer, as they made their way down the dimly lit hallway.

Back at their desk, the telephone lay, haphazardly strewn across, only half the numbers dialed to call the Hunters.

The building was alive with panic, an unnatural fear that hung in the air, making everything feel heavier, colder. They could hear people shouting, running, but when they reached the nearest stairwell, it was eerily quiet.

Almost too quiet.

"Something's wrong," Rob muttered, his voice low. His gun was now in his hand, the cold metal a comfort even as his fear intensified.

They reached the office floor and the air hit them- sickly, foul, something rotten and decayed. Chris's stomach twisted, a wave of nausea sweeping over him. He froze, his mind scrambling to make sense of the stench. It was unlike anything he'd ever smelled.

It was sharp, cloying, and unmistakably… death.

"God…" Rob's voice broke as he stared at the scene before them.

A pile of bodies lay in front of the newsroom entrance. The bodies were twisted and mangled, stacked like discarded sacks of refuse. Blood pooled beneath them, staining the floor in deep crimson. As they looked closer, their coworkers face were like stopped in time: eyes open, in a constant state of fear, but lifeless.

The smell of death was overwhelming, filling their nostrils and choking them.

Chris's hand tightened on his weapon, but his mind was already reeling. He knew what this meant.

"Who did this?" Rob whispered, his voice shaking.

Chris swallowed, his hand gripping the gun tighter. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "We need to get out of here. We need to-"

Before he could finish, a soft rustle broke the silence. A figure stood at the bottom of the pile, a girl, no older than fourteen, dressed in a black cloak that seemed to move of its own accord. Her back was to them, and the darkness made her silhouette almost ethereal, as if she didn't belong in the world at all.

"Freeze!" Rob shouted, raising his weapon. "Put your hands in the air! Turn around, slowly."

The girl didn't move. She stood perfectly still, as if she hadn't heard them. Chris's grip on his gun tightened as he took a step forward, but the girl's sudden movement stopped him in his tracks. She slowly raised her arms, her cloak swirling as she did, and turned to face them.

Chris froze. Her eyes, bright, glowing purple, locked onto his with an intensity that felt unnatural. The air around her seemed to shimmer, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

Rob took a step back, his voice tight. "Who are you?"

The girl didn't answer. Instead, with her thumb, she clicked her ring, the sound sharp and metallic, like the snap of a finger. Chris and Rob watched in stunned silence as the ring on her finger transformed, the metal shifting and twisting before it solidified into a long, gleaming sword.

"Shit," Chris hissed, his heart pounding. "This is it. She's a—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the girl vanished.

One moment, she was there, standing still, eyes locked on theirs, and the next… she was gone.

"Where the hell—" Rob began, his voice panicked.

But the words had barely left his mouth when the sound of rapid footsteps behind them made their hearts skip a beat.

They spun around just in time to see the girl materialize out of nowhere, her blade flashing in the dim light. The sound of metal slicing through air was followed by the sickening thud of something solid being struck.

Chris's breath caught in his throat, and he looked down at the blood slowly trickling from the gash in his neck.

Rob's eyes widened in disbelief, but before he could even react, the girl appeared behind him as well, her sword slashing once more. The world went black for him before he could comprehend what had happened.

The girl stood silently amidst the carnage, her cloak swirling around her as the glowing purple in her eyes began to fade. She looked down at the two men, their bodies sprawled across the cold floor, lifeless.

The air was still, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her breath and the distant hum of the building's lights. She wiped the blood from her blade and slowly turned, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway as silently as she had come.

"I hope they got him already."