Burn For Me

Chapter Two

He didn't know why, but Connor found that Wednesday nights were a lot colder than other nights. Thursdays were warm, Fridays didn't seem to have any temperature at all, and the weekends seemed to be quite indecisive about how hot or cold they wanted to be. It only seemed to be Wednesdays that were in a constant state of freezing.

"Remind me why we're standing on top of a building, in the middle of the night, freezing to death?" Connor asked the Hell Priest, teeth chattering.
"Because," it replied, "We are waiting for your first sinner to arrive, so that you may then kill him, and I can take his soul."
"Yes, but why does that require us to be on top of a building?"
"We cannot be seen by our victim. Not until we strike."
"So, what, do I need to jump from the building and land on him?"

The Priest paused.
"I suppose you can, if you so wish."
"For fuck sake, this isn't Assassin's Creed. I'm not going to kill someone by jumping on top of them from a fucking building."
"That's a shame, I would have found that quite entertaining."
"Piss off."

The Priest sniffed and turned his gaze to the street below.
"Here he comes now."
Sure enough, at that very moment, a man walked by below them. From above, Connor could see that the top of the man's head was bald, and around the sides were tufts of white hair. He also seemed to look quite fat.

"What's his sin?" Connor whispered to the Priest.
"He's a child molester," it replied, "Been doing it for about ten years now. No one has caught him yet."
"But we will."
"Indeed."

Connor readied himself to jump, then paused.
"How are we getting down again?"
"Like this."
Suddenly, Connor found himself standing in front of the bewildered looking child molester, who took a step back in surprise.
"What the-" he started, but the Hell Priest flicked it's wrist and the man was flung into an alleyway. He smacked against a brick wall, and fell to the ground with a thud.

"There you go", said the Priest, "Now finish him off."
Connor walked over to the fat, deflated looking body, glancing at the splatter of blood on the wall where his head hit. Connor set his eyes back on the man, and gulped.
"I've...I've never actually...y'know...killed a person before. Ever. In my life."
The Priest did it's horrible chuckle.
"There's really nothing to it. Here, use this."

A knife appeared in Connor's hand, making him twitch slightly. It was carved from bone, and the blade had black stain marks on it. Connor exhaled, lifted the knife...and then lowered it again. He took a step back, a hand covering his face.
"I can't do it," he said, "I just can't. I'm sorry."

The Hell Priest snarled, and slapped Connor across the face with the back of it's hand, knocking him to the floor.
"Pathetic," it growled, "Utterly pitiful. I suppose I can do this first one for you, seeing as it's your 'first time' doing what is required of you."

The Priest grabbed the bone knife and slashed down into the man's neck, spraying more blood onto the wall, and pooling it on the ground. The man writhed, still face down on the concrete, then lay still. Connor watched the blood fountain from the neck wound, then saw that the blood on the ground was inching its way towards him. He got up hastily, clutching his cheek. That Demon has slapped him really damn hard.

"Please keep in mind, Connor, that this we be the only time that I do this for you. The rest you shall dispose of yourself."
Connor nodded apologetically, and the Priest handed him back the knife. It was now stained an eerie crimson colour. Connor watched as the Priest pointed it's hands towards the fresh corpse, and opened it's mouth.

A sound came from the neck wound. Connor swore that it sounded like...singing. A slow, sad tune, with no words, just a continuous sound that changed pitches and notes. It was beautiful. And awful. The singing grew louder, and from the wound came a green smoke, that coiled and twisted a path into the Hell Priest's mouth, with the singing guiding the way. The Demon sucked the last few curls of the smoke down it's throat, and the singing was no more.

...