Staring into the withered, narrow eyes of the old man; Alex felt disturbed in ways he never imagined. Every decrepit corner of his fragile mind twisted and screamed in fear. Mass confusion overloaded each and every nerve divided amongst his body, and sent him into mental oblivion.
Kept afloat only by this man's overwhelming presence. A strong desire to shake his head violently snuck up on him, hoping the tremor would force him to wake from this nightmare. Yet, he was stuck, completely entangled by his spellbinding gaze.
A nightmare, that's all this is. Or so he repeated over and over in his head, but the dizzying sickness and vertigo argued his attempt to rationalize. This old guy was something different than that kid, something much, much more.
"What do you want with me?" Alex spoke with obvious fear in his voice.
"That all depends, you're not an Acolyte, are you?" He then snickered to himself. "No, of course not. . . I need you to help me with something, in wake of little Ira. I need a new Teufel." He said that last part with disdain on his tongue.
"A Teufel?" He recalled Ira using that descriptor.
He grinned slyly, reading his indiscernible expressions. "Teufel are my children. Demon-spawn who have a very important job to do for me. That's all you need to know. They are not easy to make and even more difficult to find an appropriate host for."
"Listen. . . I don't want anything to do with any of this!" He growled, more afraid than confident. "I want to wake up, I want Thomas. . . to. . ." He stopped, eyes twitching with sadness.
"This is no dream." The old man snarled. "This is a matter that you and I must settle."
Alex noticed the man's grip around the cane tighten. His voice slipped out like a whimpering gurgle, "I killed that thing months ago. . . why now? Why come here, tonight?"
Sin merely eyed him; expression unchanged. "I'm sure you can come up with a reasonable explanation on your own."
Almost like they were influenced to do so, his eyes fell to the gun cast in the old man's shadow; barrel facing the back of the apartment towards that girl.
The old man got this insidious look on his face. "Tell me. . . what is it you want the most? Perhaps, we can come to some sort of arrangement."
"What do I want the most? Is that a fucking joke?" Alex scoffed; his voice still broken from the screaming only moments ago.
He smirked, "Jokes are not something I typically enjoy."
It was only now that Alex noticed the strange atmosphere outside of his personal affliction. To prove to himself it was real, he casually shuffled his feet and listened to the noise echo in an unnatural way. As though the air surrounding them consisted of many invisible tubes and caverns that stretched and slapped any noise made outside of their own voices.
Averting his eyes, he looked to the curtain overlooking the parking lot. From what he could see, a gust of wind had come along and pushed the fabric inward, and that is where they stayed. Suspended in animation by his presence.
The old man cleared his throat and reclaimed his attention.
"I am not a wish maker, but I do have certain influences. Do you want money? I can make someone with a lot of it send you a check. . . A job? Just tell me what position, and they will hire you on the spot. Or perhaps, love?"
His ears perked at the word.
Love. His mouth motioned silently.
The man grinned, "There we are. Humanities greatest strength and weakness; nothing sets the soul aflutter and inspires more in an individual than a little chemical in the brain."
YOU ARE READING
Transgression (Prequel #1)
Misteri / ThrillerResting at the bottom in a pit of mistakes; Alex struggles to find his place in the world. Without the comfort of family, he trudges blindly forward with the hopes that his personal demons don't drag him under. As fate would have it, a new beginning...
