The Red Haired Demon

Chloe stumbled as she ran along a dark street. She’d chosen her shoes for dancing, not sprinting. Her dress for catching the eyes of charming young men with massive bar tabs, not the attention of… him.

She caught her balance and kept running for the glow of flickering street lamps. Behind her the demon followed. Hair of flames, eyes covered in black glass, skin ghostly pale.

"We’ve known each other for so long,” the demon said. It’s voice was too deep for any mortal man, too loud. The words shouldn’t have been any louder than a friendly conversation but echoed down the street, down her spine, into the depths of her soul.

“Get away from me!” Chloe shouted back, hoping to draw the attention of somebody for help. A fools errand. Even if someone did hear, nobody would dare stand against the demon. All they could do was hide and pray they didn’t see him. She’d been warned to be careful where she visited, careful not to trust the directions strangers gave in case they had already fallen under his dark magic.

But no, she’d had to be curious, and that’s when he’d found her.

“You know the rules.” He said in that same unnatural tenor. Chloe blinked and he vanished from sight. She let herself breath. Was it really that easy? Just tell him to go away and he would? Bound by some law of the underworld or something?

Still, she needed to get off the streets before she’d feel safe. She turned and hurried past the closed shops, past a small alleyway where…

“And so do I.” He stepped from the alley then and she almost collided with him. She jumped back, and spun, but he was there as well. Anywhere she turned, there was the demon. A different angle, a different set of clothes perhaps, but he was always there.

No escape. Not by running.

She swallowed and let her shaking hand start rummaging through her handbag.

“Wh… what do you want" She stammered, hoping to buy time. The demon smiled, and opened his hand to reveal a contract, with an honest to god quill and ink hovering beside it.

“A full commitments what I’m thinking of.” He said. This close she could almost make out the eyes behind that black glass. Vivid blue glaciers, taking her in with raw hunger. He gestured vaguely to sections of the contract, outlining how much wealth she would have in return, how much power. For the mere cost of her soul. “You wouldn’t get this from any other guy.”

Her hand found what she’d been searching for in her bag. A steak knife she’d “accidentally” picked up from a restaurant a few nights earlier. In a surge of pure adrenaline she lunged.

The knifes pointed tip was a poor weapon, and she was a poor excuse for a killer. But the serrated edge was designed for the sole purpose of cutting tender meat, and the soft tissue of the demons throat was tender indeed.

Blood poured from the wound, too much blood. Chloe screamed and made to jump back when a hand closed around her throat and pressed her against the wall.

The demon raised it’s free hand and yanked the knife free. It clattered to the pavement. The wound healed over in seconds. Casually the demon pulled that black glass from it’s eyes, and Chloe was once again captivated by those piercing glaciers.

The demon pressed her into the wall like she was nothing. She choked and clawed at his hand. “Wh…why…?” she stammered as stars started to fill her vision.

The demon rubbed his freshly healed throat. “I just want to tell you how I’m feeling.” he hissed. Then suddenly the steak knife was in his hand, raised to strike. “Gotta make you understand!”

She acted on pure instinct. No time to think. She kicked outwards, her foot finding it’s way hard between the demons legs. It didn’t seem to harm the creature but it did surprise it, enough for her to twist and push the hand away from her throat.

And then, the moment the demon let her go, he was gone. She was alone on the street without a single sign anything had happened. She ran, never once pausing to wonder where the music was coming from.

Previous
Previous

Shape of a Tale; The Introduction

Next
Next

On the shape of a tale