Roman stroked his chestnut hair back and looked back at his watch. Ten minutes till two. More precisely, ten minutes till two in the middle of the night. Or was it morning? He didn’t really care. He glanced at his watch again and then, glancing furtively over his shoulder, he took out the wad of crumpled paper in his pocket.
Carefully, tenderly, he smoothed it out. On it, written in smooth perfect letters was, “Meet me in the alley.” That was it. Yet the man was certain who it was from. Kashmiel’s writing was hard to misplace.
The alley. He shivered and looked around. It was a small place, really. It was between two disintegrating brick buildings. The city ordinance had tried to demolish the buildings for years, yet they had only gotten past the paperwork stages before giving up. Now the alley was covered in black trash bags which had long been torn apart, oozing garbage everywhere.
He was there now, waiting. He had been waiting for several hours, since nine o’clock anyway. His eyelids felt heavy, but he didn’t dare shut them. In the corner of the alley, he could hear scuffling. He felt his insides turn. Rats, they had to be.
He hated rats.
Five minutes. Then ten. Suddenly he heard a noise. Footsteps. He turned quickly.
There was only one light in the alley, an orange light that flickered on and off depending on its mood. As the footsteps came closer, the light turned decisively off. Then the footsteps stopped. Roman saw a silhouette of a man. The man turned to where Roman was and then smiled. Roman blinked. He could see the teeth clearly, glistening white, even though the rest of the features were dark. The teeth had an odd sort of gleam to them; they looked normal, but Roman had never felt more terrified in his life.
The demon. It had to be.
The demon stopped smiling and strode towards Roman. Roman could feel himself shaking. He looked at the orange light, willing it would turn on, but not daring to hope.
“You’ve come.” Roman could see the flash of teeth again, and felt his stomach drop. He stammered out something. The demon laughed. “Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
This seemed to please the demon, and it brought forth something from his pocket. Roman heard a small snap, and suddenly a grey light flooded the area.
Once Roman had seen the demon, he wondered why he had been afraid at all. The demon was human in all respects. Even his clothes were normal, albeit a little fancy for an alley strewn with garbage. And even Roman couldn’t deny that the demon was attractive. The demon self-consciously straightened his tie and then smiled. “You didn’t expect a little man with red tights and horns, did you?”
Roman laughed at this and felt a little better. “My name is Kashmiel, by the way. And I’m sure we met.” He extended his hand and Roman shook it shyly. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“No,” he admitted. “But I did get your letter.”
“Yes, I know.” Then he paused. “We’ve chosen you for a duty.” He took out a handkerchief and wrapped his hand. He turned to Roman and made a face. “Do you believe in the story of Adam and Eve?”
“Not particularly. Why?”
“No reason.” Then the demon dipped his hand into his pocket. He grunted, and Roman could see sweat beginning to glisten his brow. Then slowly, very slowly, he brought forth a little bag.
Roman gasped.
It was a small bag really, about the size of a fist, and drawn tight with a string. It had a strange glow to it. At first, Roman thought it glowed blue, but then it turned purple, to a deep crimson, to green.
But that wasn’t all! There was something about the bag that made him want to jump and scream, though he wasn’t sure if it was out of joy or pain. But he wanted it so badly that he began to shake.
Kashmiel stared at Roman’s face. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Give it to me.”
“Do you really want it?”
“Yes.” Roman had fallen to his knees, though he wasn’t aware of it. His face was now twisted and blue and he was gasping for breath. The demon stared at him pitilessly, though the strain was visible on his own face from holding the bag. Even he was beginning to shake. Slowly, he put the bag back in his pocket.
“If you want it, come with me.” He turned off the grey light and began to walk away.
Roman stared at his retreating silhouette and gasped. “Wait!” he cried, staggering after him.
The orange light flickered on.
Eternal fandom goes to smaur's story, [url=http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=7276&highlight=[/url]Wraith[/url].
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