Status Updates From Teenage Girls Can Be Demons

"How did you come here?" I asked.
Clara rolled her shoulders, tugging my hand. "I lost my way. A many precious things get lost in this world. A many wild things, too. And the mean. Many a mean lost thing wound up here, walking in them habits. And crawling about in the up-there. A mean lost thing lingers in that place," Clara said. "Stay away from there. Never let that cold one, Agnes, take you away."

"What's the situation?" Rochelle asks.
She keeps her dark hair cropped short beneath her Bandmate helm. Her armor is black with gold trim around her lean frame and its vibrations radiate through the air, casting a golden sheen across her tan eyes and amber-brown skin.
She glances to Erin, her lips pursed firm, but Erin only shakes her head.
"Just felt the hum," Vivian says, tapping the side of her head.

The siren's cry came distant and warped, a baying wolf across the lit cityscape. Miracle Robinson would've ignored it, one more howling among nocturnal hunters, if not for the answering chirp close by, drawing her gaze to the curb at her left.
Sandwiched between an SUV and a small sedan, a city cop cruiser parked streetside at a crooked angle. Rainy residue from an earlier storm twinkled over the other vehicles.