The Demon Deception (37 page)

She got to the top of the pit, and walked
towards the tourist center. The sun had gone down hours ago. He
switched on the lights so that he could watch her. She walked
towards the car. He studied her good looks. Another time, he would
have made his play, or, if that didn’t work, he would have forced
the issue. This wasn’t the time or place for that kind of thing
though, not with what he was facing. That could end up being very
dangerous for him. The big, curved sword angled on her shoulder,
moaning like the wind, punctuated that thought for him.

He got out of the car, and walked forward
towards her, “Long walk up, huh?”

She looked at him, “Who are you?”

He smiled, and took the cigar out of his
mouth, “I’m what you call an emissary. I have a friend that would
like to talk to you.”

She didn’t say anything for a few moments.
She watched him as she stood there. For a moment, he thought he
would have to defend himself against her. Then she spoke, “Your
boss?”

He shook his head, “No, not the boss. Another
associate of mine. If we can all talk, maybe make a deal, I may not
have to worry about my boss anymore.”

She studied him for a moment, then nodded,
“Ambitious, I get it. Okay, I can meet with your ‘associate.’”

His smile was genuine now. He knew he had
passed the danger point, though he wasn’t safe yet. He pointed at
himself, “My name’s Beelzebub, but you can just call me Bill if you
want to. My associate has a place for us to meet.”

He motioned to the car, “Can I give you a
lift. I’ll fill you in on the particulars along the way.”

Ragosh needed to know the players in this
reality. Using this demon would help him figure out how he needed
to play his hand. Ragosh looked at the car. He walked over, and
laid the demon sword in the back seat. He searched the memories of
his host, opened the door, and sat down. The new body was
interesting. It would take some time to get used to it.

Beelzebub sat back in the car, and closed his
door. He fired up the engine. He looked over at Ragosh. He motioned
to the door. Ragosh looked over at Beelzebub’s side of the vehicle,
figured it out, and the passenger door thumped shut.

Beelzebub smiled, then turned on the radio.
They drove off with “Bloody Kisses,” by Type O Negative playing on
the radio.

----------------------------------------------------

She sat in her room. The room didn’t feel
right to her, though. It was different. It seemed bigger than it
should be. The furniture wasn’t the right size. She walked over to
the door, and tried to turn the handle. The door wouldn’t open. She
looked around. She walked over to the window, and pulled the
curtains aside. There was nothing on the other side of the glass.
It wasn’t as if it was night. Instead, there was just, nothing.

She looked around. The ratios were off. She
looked down at her body, and then looked at her hands. She realized
what the problem was. The room around her was set up from when she
was a child. The room was from her memories. It was the way her
room was when she was a little girl. All of the changes that had
occurred since she lost her mother and father were gone. It was as
if she had never grown up. She was looking at the room from the
height of a four year old girl, even though she was fully
grown.

She looked at everything in the room. It was
all there, everything from her childhood. She tried the door again.
She tried to open the window. It wouldn’t open. She tried breaking
the window. The chair thumped against it, and the glass wouldn’t
shatter, no matter how many times, and how hard she hit it. She
banged on the door, and eventually, started banging on the walls.
She did this for a very long time.

She started yelling. When that didn’t help,
she cried. She fell asleep and then woke up, over and over again.
She remembered that she had broken things, ripped things, and tore
things. But nothing was damaged. It was the same as it had been
when she first appeared in the room.

She sat down on the floor, wrapped her arms
around her legs, and began rocking. Darcy wondered if she would
ever see Sam again.

###

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Mark Harritt

The author is
currently an over the road Truck Driver who is frequently found at
the end of a 400 to 500 mile day trying to peck out one to two
thousand words on a new book. He’s an Army paratrooper with a
background in intelligence operations. He spent six years in Iraq
and Afghanistan, in uniform and out. Currently, his greatest
challenges are black ice, lake effect snow, and uploading word
documents to E-reader format, all equally treacherous endeavors.
His greatest hope is to write stories that his readers enjoy.

Earth Exiles
Series

On Distant Shores – Book 1

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