Devil in Disguise

Prologue

          His shoes clacked against the cool concrete. Click clack. Click clack. He smiled a cruel grin, his swagger showed his cool demeanor. He walked calmly, despite the chaos behind him. He didn’t need to worry. Oh, no. This was all part of the fun. Why worry when the show was just about to begin?

          He should've left by now; there was no reason to stay any longer. Time was of the essence and all that. He looked down to what he was holding. The tiny silver key in the palm of his hand, the reason for this dramatic scene. No one was hurt. Not this time. He could avoid blood; he should.

          He looked back for a second. The police had arrived, along with the firefighters and ambulance. They were searching the building, looking for the reason to the fire. By the time they would realize, he would already be gone. He took out his phone, dialing the number and listened to the dial tone.

          “Hello?” a distressed girl answered. His smile grew bigger.

          “Did you miss me?”

          The girl’s voice suddenly changed to steel. “No, I did not. In fact, I was happy to think you were dead.”

          “Ouch!” he whistled. “Be careful, there. One of these days I might actually take offense to your insults.”

          “I can only pray for that day.”

          “Feisty, aren’t we?”

          “Did you do this?”

          “A little vague there. What could you possibly mean by ‘this’?”

          “You know exactly what I’m talking about. This, this fire. You did it, didn’t you?”

          “I don’t know. Did I?”

          “Don’t play games with me.”

          He sighed. “You really are no fun.” He kept walking. “You see, I haven’t done anything at all. There are no bodies, a little fire is all, nothing,” he paused, tightening his hold on the tiny key. “stolen, I presume.”

          “You presume? Who even says that?” she questioned.

          “I do, thank you very much. It's widely used by many people.”

          “Yeah, okay,” she said with a short laugh, her voice filled with sarcasm.

          “Your idea of humor isn't amusing,” he snapped.

          “I’ll keep that in mind,” she retorted. “Is there anything else you’d like to say? Since we’re being wildly optimistic.”

          “Well,” he began. “I was fully intending to gloat, perhaps maybe brag a little. You know, a little ‘ha ha, in your face. I beat you’ kind of thing. Maybe a little ‘I am the champion’ singing. Or maybe a little break dancing. Now that, Alice, would be wildly optimistic indeed. But sadly, you just have that way of being a party-pooper. You literally sucked out all the fun in it.” He sighed, as if it was a true loss.

          “Well, I’m so sorry. Would you like me to nurse your wounds, get you a lollipop, and tell you everything is going to be better,” she said in a voice for little children. He could practically see her mock-pouting.

          “No, that’s okay. But I would like it very much if you would kiss me better,” he contradicted, playing her charade.

          “You’re getting on my nerves, Rogers.”