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Challenge of the Week LXXVII
This week we're going to try something different. Very different. Sort this challenge feed by newest. Read the most recent post, then continue it. Posts will be constrained to 700 words, so nobody has to read a novella before writing their own entry. When evaluating, we'll read the posts in order, from oldest to newest. Feel free to depart from the previous author stylistically, thematically, or in whichever way you choose, though your entry should be somehow connected to the previous entry. If the previous post is nonsensical, or otherwise hopelessly salvageable, continue from the most recent post you can. (If you do elect to continue from a different post, it'd be helpful if you could indicate which post you're continuing from). We'll write the first sentence. "The dream came to an abrupt end when the hysterical ringing of the telephone split the midnight silence."
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TaiSensei
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The Mark

”Good girl,” the demon on the phone praises her. “I’ll see you soon.” Angela stayed motionless in the hall long after the phone clicked off.

How did that fanfic put it again? “A presence of an emotional gun in her head.” That’s what this phone felt like in her palm; a gun. She wondered if she would have pulled the trigger right now.

Then she wondered if it would have killed her after that call anyway.

Her perspective on the world before her took that familiar, violent shift to monochrome. She felt The Mark coming back, she felt it sear into the side of her face along her temple, spreading from the phone still at her ear; the inescapable curse of Carlos.

Angela turned away from the pain, without trying to hide The Mark, knowing better - from the last time - that no one would be able to see it. Knowing that no one would be able to help her. It was a job Carlos had branded to Angela and Angela alone. “A forbidden story to tell. And a truth escaping from hell.” sometimes she wondered if Carlos was the author of that story, she wondered if it was another one of his sick jokes to haunt her. She cursed under her breath in spanish, pocketting her phone and swiping a sweaty hand over her face and through her hair. Angela was a strong woman, no one would see her tears.

Could she cry anymore though? Did she have tears to shed?

For as long as it took to complete this job, as long as this invisible mark was here, she was the demon, and she would commit to any level of demonic actions to finish up this mess and get back her humanity.

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