Signed In Blood

Chapter 2- You're a What?

                  A cool breeze flitted through the area, slightly tousling my long black hair. I frowned, clamping my hand over the papers to make sure they didn't fly away; perhaps it wasn't ideal to be working on this outside, however it was either this or suffer the loneliness of being at home. Besides, last night had been filled with lurid nightmares as soon as I had gotten to sleep after my shift, so I wasn't keen on staying there while awake. Especially since my house had been the setting for most of them.

Taking a moment to collect my thoughts, I stared up at the still gloomy sky. It was as if the town were trapped under a perpetual rain cloud, however considering winter was right around the corner, this wasn't all that unusual. The cool metal of the bleacher I had decided to sit on bit through my jeans, seeping icily into my thighs. Once again there were barely any people around, save a few children running around in the field below. Based on the lack of parents around, I assumed they lived close by. Or they had irresponsible guardians. It's not like I was unfamiliar with that living situation. For the children's sakes I hoped it was the first option. Or they could be orphans but let's be serious here; that was highly unlikely.

A movement caught my eye, dragging me out of my distracted thoughts. I arched an eyebrow at the figure; it was the redhead from last night. He looked over at me then checked a... was that a flip phone? Oh god, poor kid. Even I had a better phone than that. His hazel eyes met my own, making me realize I was staring.

My dark eyes fell back on the paper but it was too late, he had noticed and was coming over. How awkward, this was embarrassing. Briefly I lamented at my situation, thinking I should have stayed at home after all.

"Um, are you Quinn? Quinn Levial?" the boy asked, his voice a lot deeper than I had anticipated. It was almost a growl, slightly raspy as if he had inhaled smoke his entire life. I glanced up, giving him a suspicious once over. He didn't look all that dangerous, but if he tried anything I had no reservations about kicking him hard enough for him to fall down the entire bleacher. 

Considering that we were currently at the top, that fall would probably damage him enough that I could escape.

My eyes narrowed, "Yes, who are you?"

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "Man this really sucks. I'm here to collect your soul." My eyes widened as I blinked slowly; was this some sort of prank? I decided to go with it, it's not like I had anything better to do right now anyway.

"Is that so? Why exactly do you want my soul?" I inquired, giving him an utterly unimpressed expression.

"Well you see, your parents signed a contract before you were born. They traded your soul for money. In my opinion that's kind of a dick move, but hey, who am I to judge what you humans do? Anyway, I'm stuck on collection duty since I was the one who gave them the contract so yeah." He explained, his face scrunching in irritation at the apparent memory.

I rolled my eyes, "Nice try buddy, my parents suck, but they don't suck that badly." As I got up to leave the strange boy behind, a strangled cry escaped his throat.

"No, no way. You can't just leave this time! I have a life too you know! Things to do, a haunting quota." He complained, exasperation lathering his deep voice.

That made me pause, looking at him. "What do you mean this time?" 

"Should've figured you'd forget, but I've been here multiple times since you were born. You're a stubborn kid, I'll give you that. Most of the time I just need to pose as an imaginary friend for a bit then just lead the kid off a roof or something. But no, you didn't want to do that and banished me. Generally that wouldn't matter but you literally banished me. For ten years! Like what the fuck, you were six." He rambled, "Anyway, the boss was pretty pissed about that, put me on sorting duty till I can get your soul. So yeah, this time I'm not going anywhere without your soul. You're stuck with me."

"How did I banish you?" I asked, having no recollection of the encounter.

He looked embarrassed, tugging on the collar of his shirt. "Ha, funny story. I may have given you my name."

I nearly burst into laughter, "You mean like a demon?"

"Yeah, exactly actually." He replied.

I stopped, my face nearly dripping with suspicion. "So let's get this straight; you're apparently a demon who wants my soul but was stupid enough to get banished when I was a kid. That pissed off your boss, so now you're here for good." He nodded, "Okay so now tell me, do I look like an idiot to you? Demons aren't real. Nice try though, very elaborate story."

Having said that, I left, ignoring the boy who offered a string of protests in some language that sounded like old Latin but with a strange accent. Demon my ass, that was just some kid. I bet Zack put him up to this, I'd have to get him back later for the poorly executed prank.

As I walked back to my house, my skin crawled as if I were being watched. An unsettling feeling nestled itself into the pit of my stomach but I chose to ignore it. Bad plan. As soon as I reached my front porch, one of my crazy religious neighbors decided to make an appearance. He turned up his nose as if a pile of garbage had walked past him, his eyes reflecting a slight fear. In all honesty, the scared look should've set off a red flag in my head, but I was too preoccupied to really care.

"You smell like a basement full of Satanists." He remarked from the fence, staring intently at me. I sputtered at the comment; that was a new one.

"I uh, okay?" I replied weakly, not really having much else to offer. How was I supposed to react to that? I wasn't aware Satanists had a specific scent. He held out a vial filled with a clear fluid. I stared incredulously; really, this again?

Catching my obvious lack of appreciation he snorted, "Just take the holy water Quinn. I have a feeling you'll really need it this time."

Rolling my eyes, I accepted the vial. Whatever kept the crazies away. "Thanks." Saying a curt farewell, I unlocked the front door, relieved when I finally entered. At last, I was alone. A creak from somewhere further in the house made me freeze. Silently cursing myself for jinxing the moment, I went to investigate. It was probably nothing, but there was still the chance that my parents had come home for once. The second I turned the corner into the living room, my jaw dropped. What the fuck?

The boy with deep red hair and piercing hazel eyes stood in the dead center of the room, looking apathetic. We locked gazes for a moment, mine shocked, his bored. Blinking, I tried to tell myself this was a trick, an illusion. But it wasn't.

"Um, how'd you get in my house?" I asked wearily; today was more dramatic than I would have liked. It was really starting to take a toll on me.

He smirked and shrugged, "Teleported. It's not like I haven't been here before." This kid was relentless. Slyly, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of my lips; let's test if he's really a demon. Which he's not, but hey never hurts to have a little fun.

Without giving him a chance to decipher the troubling expression etched into my face, I popped the cork off of the small vial given to me earlier and tossed its contents onto him. He shrieked, the sound was somewhere between comical and ungodly. My eyes widened in shock as bright red burn marks appeared where the water had touched him. During his seeming lack of self-control as he contorted in pain, a pair of goat-like horns sprouted from his head and leathery bat wings tore through his clothing, the wingspan almost as wide as the breadth of the room. Fangs flashed as he wailed, rubbing at the burned area.

Well, it appears there's an actual demon in my living room.

This was going to be a long day.