DYING MOURNINGS, original

four : trial and error

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𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 : 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 & 𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑

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I whirled around, Spiorad gripped tight in my fist. I was crouched down against the ground, hands covered in red suds, ready to swing but I froze. Standing with their arms crossed was a girl, not the angry demon I had assumed it was.

She was short but not a child, not even a teenager. She had dirt smudged across her freckled cheeks and her flaming red hair was like a halo around her head, save for the occasional leaf I saw sticking out from her curls. Her eyes were big, like large saucers the color of freshly watered soil. She had her arms crossed over her chest and for some reason, she didn't look pleased to be here.

"How the hell did you get in?" I snapped, looking to my front door that was still shut and locked.

"Window, upstairs," the girl said with a shrug, her voice deeper than I had expected. She pointed to the floor with a bruised hand. "Is that blood?"

I ignored her comment. "Who are you?"

"Not important-"

"I think it is."

She rolled her eyes. "I think the question you should be asking is who sent me, maybe? Or whether I'm here to kill you, I think that'd be a good start."

I narrowed my eyes, my grip tightening on the hilt of my blade as I eased to my feet. My legs were still sore and I knew if she attacked, I would be slow. "Well?"

"Which would you like to know more about?" the girl mused, walking past me like she was floating across the ground. She kicked at the scrub brush on the ground and smiled.

"Who sent you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"You know what?" I snarled, rubbing the tip of my thumb against the cool metal of my knife. "I think I might just call up the police, say someone broke into my house, that I'm in danger-"

"As if the police would listen," she grinned. "Haven't you forgotten about the demons who work there? The ones under a certain demon's payroll?"

"So, do you work for him then?" I asked, watching as her brows pulled together in taut anger.

"As if he could get me to accept his terms."

"And who the hell even are you?"

She grinned, holding out a hand. "Amy."

I took her hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking. The girl gave me a bold grin before we dropped hands and she jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter. "And should I recognize your name from somewhere?"

Her cheeks flushed pink. "You really are as dumb as you look."

"Listen, I've been insulted enough tonight so if you won't tell me what I want to know, you can leave. There's the door and I won't even attack if you just-" I motioned to the door with both hands. "-leave."

"I work for..." She paused, either for dramatic effect or because she was thinking of a good name to say. "...John."

"John? My John?"