I Heard You Kill Spirits

Air.

Toma jolted awake, choking as his lungs clawed for breath that refused to come. His mouth opened in a soundless gasp, his vision warping as if the world itself was rejecting him.

Then, the air finally rushed in. He sucked it down in ragged pulls, his chest heaving and his heart hammering so violently it might as well have torn straight through his ribs. His head throbbed and his ears rang loudly.

“W–where… am I…?”

His voice was cracked. Ragged. It vanished into the vastness.  Red-and-black tiles stretched everywhere, a perfect checkerboard that ran endlessly in every direction. The floor bled seamlessly into walls, walls folding into a ceiling with no seams or corners. It was infinite like the inside of a ritual diagram, just blown up to the size of a universe.

Toma swallowed hard as he tried to sit up, but pain exploded through his body. Something pulled at his wrists and his ankles were aflame. He let out a bloodcurdling scream as glowing strands–thin, luminous cords etched with symbols he didn't recognize, tightened and dug through him.

He looked down, his breath hitching. He saw four radiant tendons spearing straight through his wrists and ankles, pinning him spread-eagle against the tiled floor. They shimmered with white and gold and hummed quietly.

His stomach then flipped as recognition came to him.

“I… I know those…” he whispered to himself, panic rising like a tidal wave.

He had seen them on the news before through late night clips of men and women in long coats binding shrieking, inhuman things in alleyways and subway stations.

Maestros.

Those things were used on dark spirits. On… on monsters.

“Wait! I-I'm not one of them!” Toma exclaimed, thrashing instinctively. But the moment he did, white-hot agony ripped through his limbs. The tendons chewed deeper, flared brighter, and he felt as if a muscle was pulled.

He screamed louder.

“Stop! Stop, stop, stop!” His shout echoed endlessly like a chorus of him begging. He went still for a moment, sobbing and terrified to breathe too hard.

But then, a voice boomed from above.

“Laaadies… and gentlemeeeen!”

The voice came from everywhere at once, slick and theatrical. Lights began to flare above him, spotlights snapping on one by one. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them.

Standing above him were figures in elegant suits and gowns. They donned masks gleaming white, black, and gold; comedy and tragedy frozen into porcelain grins and weeping eyes. Others reclined in their seats, bored, as if watching a show they'd seen a thousand times already.

“Welcome all to tonight's special exhibition! A freshly apprehended entity, captured and ready for judgment!” The announcer continued with glee.

Then a spotlight snapped directly onto Toma, causing the crowd to erupt in applause, laughter, and cheers.

“No, no, no, no!” Toma tried to pull back, but the tendons flared again. Tears streamed down his face. “You've got the wrong guy! I'm human, I swear it!”

“Oh ho ho ho… how adorable! They always say that, don't they?”

A massive screen ignited from above, showing his own fearful face staring right back at him.

“Now then! As per tradition, the audience shall decide our guest's fate!”

Symbols then flashed across the air like a game show menu. The choices:

PURIFICATION

DISSECTION

EVISCERATION

“Cast your votes, ladies and gents! And see how tonight's spirit meets its end!!!” The announcer exclaimed with a purr.

Toma's breath quickened and he let out another scream. “I-I DON'T BELONG HERE! I'M NOT THE ENEMY!”

EVISCERATION

The death sentence slammed into the air as if carved in reality itself. The crowd let out a loud and hungry roar, masks tilting forward in unison as if pulled by puppet strings. The tiles beneath Toma vibrated and the red squares bled darker while the black ones swallowed light.

“I'M NOT THE ENEMY, I'M NOT!” Toma repeated, his voice cracking as the tendons dragged him upright. His feet barely touched the ground as the bindings hauled him forward, bringing his arms outstretched in a crucifixion-like position.

Then, from the edges of the checkerboard, four tall and broad figures emerged. They were wrapped in layered robes etched with the same crawling symbols as the glowing tendons. Their faces were hidden behind smooth, featureless masks. Toma could see his own terror in their reflection. Each carried hooked blades with segmented chains.

Two seized him by the arms and one braced behind him while the fourth raised its blade.

The announcer's voice dropped to a hush.

“Please hold your applause… this will be only a moment.”

Then, the weapon came down…