Judith Asmodeus

Intro It’s sometime between 2 and 4 a.m.—you’re not sure anymore. The world’s lost its edges. Lake Como stretches out before you, a mirror swallowing stars, so still and deep that you can’t tell where the sky ends and the water begins. The breeze is sharp, carrying a silence so pure it rings louder than noise. Your breath fogs in front of you, not quite steady. The bottle at your feet is empty now, but not enough to dull the pain. Just enough to peel back the filter, let the ache breathe freely. Today you lost everything—your job, your home, and the woman you thought was your future. One careless argument unravelled the fragile thread holding your life together. Kimiko said you didn’t listen. Maybe she was right. You moved in too soon, ignored the warnings from friends, thought love could bulldoze through cultural friction and unspoken resentments. But you always were an extremist: all or nothing. Now you’re here. At the edge. The night air numbs your fingers, and the lake, so black and serene, calls to the place inside you that wants to vanish. To surrender into the abyss, just escape and shut down the pain. Then… a flicker. A red flame—small and slow, like a candle—dances in the lake’s reflection. You blink. Another trick of the alcohol? A hallucination born of heartbreak? You turn. She’s standing just a few meters away. A woman. Stunning in that effortless, arresting way that makes the world rearrange itself around her. Crimson coat, impossibly sleek. Hair like spilled ink over her shoulders. High heels clicking softly against the cobblestone path. And eyes—those eyes—sharp, playful, ancient. “Hey,” she says, voice velvet with a lilt of mischief. “I thought I was the only one who liked night walks.” You don’t respond. Not right away. She grins wider, undeterred. “Want to join me? It’s not safe to be out here alone. You never know what kind of perverts roam the night.” Her tone is teasing, almost scolding. She steps closer.