The Red Thread

The entity screamed as Wei tackled it. It possessed Mei’s strength, amplified by supernatural force. It threw him across the room.

Wei crashed into a glass display case, shattering it. Shards cut into his back, but he scrambled up.

"You ugly little rat!" the entity shrieked. It grabbed a lamp and swung it.

Wei dodged. He wasn't a fighter, but he knew structure. He knew stress points.

He threw the loop of red thread—soaked in cinnabar—around Mei’s wrist.

The entity howled. Smoke rose from the skin where the thread touched.

"It burns!"

"It binds!" Wei yelled. He wrapped the other end of the thread around the leg of the heavy vanity table.

The entity clawed at the thread, but it couldn't touch it. The cinnabar repelled it.

"We need to go to the temple," Wei gritted out. "I can't banish you here. Too many mirrors. Too many reflections."

"I will kill this body!" the entity threatened. "I will snap her neck!"

"Do it!" Wei bluffed. "Snap it! Then you have no vessel. You wither and die in the air."

The entity hesitated. It needed the skin.

Wei capitalized on the pause. He grabbed Mei’s body in a bear hug, pinning her arms. He dragged her toward the door.

"Tin Hau Temple," he muttered. "It’s midnight. The incense is thick."

They fought all the way to the elevator. The entity bit him, scratched him, screamed profanities in ancient dialects. Wei didn't let go. He bled onto her silk slip, his blood mixing with the cinnabar.

They spilled out into the street. The fog was thick. Wei dragged her toward the temple gates, two blocks away.

They crashed through the temple doors. The main hall was empty, lit only by the dying embers of incense coils hanging from the ceiling. The statue of Tin Hau, the Empress of Heaven, looked down impassively.

"End of the line," Wei gasped.

He threw Mei onto the central rug. He pulled the cracked bronze mirror from his bag.

"This is your anchor," Wei said. "The door you came in."

"No!" The entity scrambled up, trying to run.

Wei tackled her again. He pressed the bronze mirror against Mei’s chest.

"Return!" he shouted.

The entity convulsed. Mei’s mouth opened wide, unhinging like a snake’s. A torrent of black smoke poured out, screaming. It swirled around the room, smashing into the pillars, trying to find a new host.

It dove for Wei.

But as it hit him, it scattered. It couldn't latch on. The scars were too deep. The pain was too real. There was no surface for the vanity demon to cling to.

"I told you," Wei yelled over the roaring wind of the spirit. "I'm too ugly for you!"

The smoke was sucked backward, drawn into the vacuum of the bronze mirror on Mei’s chest.

The mirror grew hot. Glowing red.

"Wei!" Mei’s voice gasped. The real Mei. "It burns!"

"Hold on!"

The last wisp of smoke vanished into the glass.

Wei didn't hesitate. He grabbed the mirror. It seared his gloves, burning his palms.

He raised it high and smashed it against the stone floor of the temple.

* CRACK.*

The sound was like a gunshot.

The bronze mirror shattered into dust.

A shockwave of heat exploded outward. The incense coils ignited. The silk tapestries caught fire.

Wei threw himself over Mei, shielding her body with his own. He felt the heat lick at his back, the fire roaring around them. He pressed his scarred face into her neck, smelling the jasmine and the smoke.

"I've got you," he whispered. "I've got you."