Eternal Rot

Gambling

The house stood vacant, and stepping inside, bypassing the old and tattered police tape, the devil numbly walked around. Things were trashed, possessions stolen, and a familiar mug broken upon the hardwood floor of the kitchen. It was hot inside, summer sun making the air smell putrid as the food in the fridge had surely spoiled, as the electricity had been switched off, and everything had been left to rot. He numbly wandered into the hallway, down towards the bedroom they had shared, and inside, like with everything, it was empty. 

He pulled his face into a tight frown, he had only left for a few years, yet, everything seemed to have stopped the moment he had. Nothing had changed other than the age of the furniture, and the stains soaking into the floor. He spun, walking into the office, somewhere Alastor had not let him into too easily. He looked around, the picture his daughter had drawn hung on the wall, and the various writings of his love still collected dust where they were pinned. He took the chair into his hand, and with a heavy sigh, he sat down, fingers lightly tracing the keys as he examined the pile of paperwork next to it. The manuscript, folded neatly, nearly finished, yet abandoned. In the carriage still was a half typed idea. Final words never put to paper.

“What happened to you?” Lucifer spoke out loud, hands trembling as he again traced a few letters, spelling out Alastor’s name again and again, although not pressing hard enough to actually type.

Then a sound roused him back to reality, and quickly he turned to face the noise. He stood, ready to fight, ready to demand answers, but then he relaxed, eyes wide as the small much more elderly woman stood before him, her hands nervously clasped together as she peered in at him, “You’ve come back for him?”

“Yeah.” Lucifer smiled a little, walking over to the woman, bending down to give her a chaste hug, “Where has he gone?”

“We don’t know…” Rosa sighed, her body trembling as she held in her tears, “One day he was here, writ’n his heart out, the next… we looked for him ever’where, but the police were no help. They called him so many terrible things… He wasn’t that bad… he was just broken… like his father.”

“He wasn’t broken.” Lucifer pet her hair gently, body filling with dread, as her words hung in the air, a hunch chilling his spine, “He was just… different. You know that.”

“I do…” She began to cry, she couldn’t hold back anymore, “Je sais…”

Now they stood, and Lucifer tried hard to comfort the woman. He knew he had been gone for too long, but to him a few years was nothing. He had forgotten how time worked on Earth. How time would change things, tarnish things. He bit his lip, feeling pity, shame, and ultimately depression as it filled his core. Where was Alastor? Where could he have possibly gone? He blinked a few times, trying to remember details from before he had left, grasping at straws, “Vincent- he was supposed to take care of him for me… where is he? I’m going to be giving him a piece of my mind-”

The woman shook her head, wrinkled hands grasping either side of his face to get his attention, “Vincent, he died. Il est mort il y a des années.”

“Years ago?” The man echoed, eyes wide, “How long have I been gone?”

“Sept ans…” She replied sadly.

“Seven years!” The man couldn’t believe it, he had left his pet for seven fucking years, and only now had he realized.

He was the worst, he had abandoned the human, left him to die, and worse yet, something actually happened to him in this time. He began to spiral, feeling weak in his knees, his soul burning as he tried to reach the deal he had made with the human, trying to find him anyway that he could. Then he felt a jolt, pinpointing where he was, his eyes wide, his body pulling away from the aging woman, “I have to go. Please take care Rosa.”