The Almost Rock Star (A Ghost Story) (DRAFT)

The Almost Rock Star (A Ghost Story) 19, The Talk

Chapter Nineteen

The Talk

“From now on, you need to do what you are told.” 

The beautiful man in the corner had an ugly look on his face that said many things. It said, I am better than you. You are nothing. You are lower than dirt to everyone.

“You know,” he said, the beauty around him seeming to grow more intense. “I’ve met more than ten billion little runaways just like you. They are all the same. You never would have made it as a rock star. You didn’t have it, kid. You never will. You are a little *****. And it’s time for you to put out. You’re a sorry excuse for a rock star. You couldn’t sing your way out of a paper bag. You never would have made it. I know. I know what it takes. And you don’t have it.” 

The room was silent. I could hear my little cuckoo clock ticking. It was a gift from one of my older fans, who came into the Blind Pig one day and tried to ask me out. When I refused, because I had a bad feeling about him, I was subjected to a daily onslaught of gifts. It started with flowers every day for a week. When the clock arrived in a wrapped package on day seven, with a note that said, “It’s time to stop refusing my love,” I finally said yes. After one of the worst dates I ever had, I wouldn’t go out with him again. The gifts stopped after Aja had words with him behind the Blind Pig, and I never saw him again. As I said, Aja was my best friend. 

I considered this rude person in the corner. He claimed to be The Prince of Darkness. Satan. As I listened to the clock ticking, I realized several things. He was probably the one who invented smirking. I looked at the curve of his lips. There was a slight smile at the edges. The lips were perfectly rounded, a little too sensual, and a rose color naturally.

His skin was an alabaster white, a color that looked as though you could almost see into it. The blue almost looked unnatural. The color wasn’t quite an ocean blue, a sky blue or a gray blue. Against the white skin and the black hair, the blue clashed with the beauty of the rest of the face. Out of the blue and black eyes came hatred, a strong, overwhelming hatred. As it fell on me, this hatred, my skin crawled and the hair rose on the back of my head. 

I could hear the clock ticking louder. 

“I’m not about to answer to anyone. And you are not my God.” I wasn’t sure what to say about God because I had never met my Creator like this. Sitting down, in my living room. Talking. Looking right at Him.

 “You don’t really have a choice,” he said. “You’ll come to know what I mean. It’s like this. You’re dead. You’re a ghost. And you are cursed to wander this earth forever. Your only hope is with me. You are one of us now. You have no other choice.”

Satan seemed to be watching my every reaction. The clock was ticking louder. I was unsure what to do. This was the evil Satan? As I looked at him, he looked more and more beautiful. But not like some holy angel. There was no light. It was very dark around him. The shadows seemed alive. I could feel the evil presence. It wasn’t scaring me like it did before. I was so attracted to it, for a moment. I felt like there was nothing I wanted to do except fall into this man’s arms. 

I forgot about the man whose face I had seen earlier today. Daith. I didn’t know if that was my lost future, or if it was a picture of someone who was trying to speak to me. But this one was right here, right in front of me, and I had never seen anyone like him.

Satan.

The one that always came up in my reading classes and throughout all of my Catholic upbringing. The Devil. He didn’t look even remotely like what I had been taught. No horns, no red face, no tail. Someone had lied to me. Or this man was lying to me.

“There’s no way you’re Satan,” I said, finally. “Who are you? Get out of my house. I didn’t invite you in.”

“Oh, you’ll be sorry you said that,” he said. He wasn’t smirking now. He looked intensely angry. 

Something invisible, like a cloud of hate, hit me. My suffering became so bad that I almost doubled over in pain. I couldn’t cry out, and I couldn’t breathe. All I could hear was the clock ticking, louder and louder in my head. Something in me didn’t want to give in. Something deep in me wanted to fight back, even though I wasn’t strong enough. I held onto that secret strength as hard as I could, even as the pain seemed to rip apart my skin, my hair, my face. Through what seemed like a small tornado, I heard a voice clearly in my head.

“Had enough? Are you ready to listen to me?”

I tried to ignore it, but the ticking had become deafening. I was terrified, except in this one little place in my secret center. Then I gave in to my fear and hid the secret. 

“What do you want?”

He was standing over me. I had crumpled over in pain on the sofa. I looked at him as the pain eased a bit. 

His lips curved in a near smile. He glanced at someone near us. “I think she’s listening now. Maybe we’ll get along after all.”

“Please make this pain stop, I can’t take it,” I said. I was crying. The agony was worse than anything I had ever experienced. 

He was clearly enjoying it, but the pain lessened. 

“It’s simple. You will go with this one here and do what he says.” He gestured to a smaller person near him, who turned toward me. 

I stared for a moment, and more fear shot through me than before. It was the child who had no eyes. The black sockets leered at me as the boy grinned. 

“Come with me now,” the boy said in a high-pitched voice. His voice was evil. 

“No. No, I’m not going anywhere with that,” I said to Satan. 

He looked annoyed. The evil boy grinned wider. 

“Don’t worry,” Satan said, a strange edge to his voice that sounded malevolent. It almost sounded like two people talking at the same time. “You will.”