You finished your coffee. You went inside. You did not lock the door.
You wondered if this was what Nergal had been, before the tablets and the temples and the screaming. Before they carved him into a monster because hunger was easier to understand than want. Maybe he had just been a god of thresholds. Of the moment before the choice. Of the breath between the match and the gasoline. Urban Demons -v1.1 Beta- -Nergal- -Completed-
The installation took eleven seconds. You felt it as a faint pressure behind your eyes, like the beginning of a migraine that never quite arrives. Then—nothing. No, not nothing. A quiet. The kind of quiet that follows a slammed door, when the house settles and you realize you’ve been shouting for years. You finished your coffee