mio_4909

One quiet night in Shanghai, Haoran found a strange cigarette on the wet pavement. Its edges were darkened, but it wasn’t burnt. A thin, silvery mist curled from it, almost like it was alive.

Curious, he lit it and took a slow drag.

The taste was bitter, metallic wrong. A sharp pain spread through his chest, like fire and ice fighting inside him. He coughed hard, but the smoke didn’t leave. Instead, it thickened, twisting into the air like living shadows.

Then, from the swirling smoke, something took shape, a tall figure with glowing ember eyes and skin made of shifting ash. Its voice was deep and heavy, like burning coal.

“You have awakened me,” it said. “Now, your fate is sealed.”

Haoran’s hands shook, the cigarette still between his fingers. He thought he had just found an old cigarette. Instead, he had inhaled something far more dangerous.

Ashen Host

Five Months Ago

The cigarette wouldn't leave him. No matter how many times Haoran threw it away, it always came back.

Haoran was 21, slim, and not built to handle something this weird. Standing in a dark alley, he rubbed his temples, trying to clear his head. There were car horns in the distance, neon lights on the street, but all he could focus on was the strong smell of smoke. It wasn't normal. It clung to him, filled his mind, like it had sticked into his body.

"I must be high," he muttered, shaking his head. But the feeling wouldn't go away. He hit his forehead with his palm, hoping to snap out of it. Nothing changed.

He hesitated before picking up the cigarette again. Its red-tipped edge glowed faintly, looking strange and slick. He had smoked plenty before, smoking was his escape, but this wasn't like anything he had ever seen.

His body tensed as he spun around. No one was there. The voice had come from nowhere or everywhere.

Haoran's heart pounded. His grip tightened around the cigarette.

Haoran's voice echoed through the empty alley. His heart was racing, his hands shaking. He didn't care about much in life, but this, this thing inside him was too much. It felt like something was pressing down on him, like smoke trapped in his lungs.

"Why use the stick from the ground?"

The voice in his head sounded calm, almost amused.

Haoran clenched his fists. "What do you mean?"

"The cigarette. It was filthy. Why would you use it? Foolish human."

"And you didn't think you might die from using a dirty one?"

Haoran rolled his eyes. "It worked, didn't it? But tell me, who the hell are you?"

The voice was gone, but he could still feel something there. It was deep inside him, heavy, like it was pushing against his ribs.

"Hey… answer me." Haoran's voice was quieter now. "What is happening?"

A sharp pain shot through his head. He stumbled back, gripping the cold brick wall for balance.

"Damn it, what did I just inhale?!" His breathing was uneven. His body felt strange, like it wasn't his own.

The silence was worse than the voice.

"Are you even still there?!" Haoran shouted. "I swear, if you're trying to take over my body—"

Then, a whisper. Soft, but too close.

The air felt heavy. His chest was tight.

No way in hell was he letting this thing stay inside him.

Mos ago