Tasteful Darkness

Chapter 6

Balendin - Now

I pride myself in having one friend. One, I've realized, is quite enough, and visiting her has become quite a common occurrence of mine.

The clouds are gray today, and I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining at any moment. It's the perfect day to spend time in a bookstore, forming a plan on how to get a human to fall in love with me. The only thing I have decided so far is that a female form would be best for such a task.

Creator's visit seems like weeks ago, but it was just this morning. Their words swirl in my mind like a storm that refuses to pass.

Twelve days. That's all I have.

I stop in front of a narrow building made of deep red bricks. Even for a place that looks so insignificant, it holds multitudes inside. I discovered it a few decades ago while I was roaming around and looking for a tavern. To my surprise, it ended up being a bookstore. I debated leaving the moment I walked in, but then I saw Amelie. I had seen others like her, but there was something about her that made me want to stay.

As I open the door, a bell rings, signaling my entrance. The old woman sitting behind a wooden counter looks up through round glasses and gives me a small smile.

"Morning, Madam," she says, her voice frail.

I take a deep breath, taking in the state of her soul. It's weak—the light of it barely a blaze—but she's happy. From what I can tell, she might have a few good years left. If I really looked into her soul, I would be able to see how she dies. A power I didn't realize I had until I came to the Overworld.

I became obsessed with souls when I first arrived and spent years trying to figure them out every time I devoured them. When I first arrived, there was this man who drove himself crazy over the fact that he was going to die. I only found out about him because the town drama reached me and everyone was begging to get rid of him. When I approached him, he began cursing at me.

"Demon!" he shouted. "Be gone!"

I smirked and crept closer. The moment my hand touched his shoulder, he froze. I stared deeply into his eyes and learned the secrets of his soul that even he didn't know.

He was destined to die a year later by a sickness that would sweep through the town. I told him what I saw then left, never to return. I wasn't interested in dealing with hundreds of dead bodies once the disease appeared.

"Where is Amelie?" I ask the lady.

"Somewhere in the back," she says. "Are you the girl who is always searching for her?"

I smile. "Perhaps."

I try not to be remembered or recognized by others, but this woman is one exception. She first introduced herself to me when she was still a young woman. Her father owned the bookstore and passed it down to her when he died. She always says hello to me when I visit, no matter what form I am in. However, I have grown lazy over the years and reused this form many times. Thankfully the woman hasn't seemed to notice my lack of aging.

I walk away from the front and make my way through the maze of bookshelves. No one is ever here so the books practically hold more dust than they do stories.

There's a quiet sound to my left. I freeze and turn, peeking through the gaps on the shelves.

Then I spot Amelie, asleep on a small sofa. The sight of her makes me smile. Until I see someone stroke the cat's head.

I step out from the shelves. "Who are you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

The man looks up.