Blue in Nature

Betwixt

Mellow blues and pinks merged together to form the early morning sky. I pulled into a gas station. It was empty, but open. Most of the city's establishments were empty, the city slept in, and those who were out didn't dare interact with one another. They were the few who worked the early shifts, or the even fewer who headed home from graveyard shifts.

I walked into the gas station, payed the man behind the counter, and went back out to the truck. I leaned against the passenger door ad rubbed my wrist, staring out towards the empty road. The air was cold, and dry. The streets were lined in tall suffocating trees that painted most of the landscape. The road was old, and some of the buildings in the area seemed as if they had been there forever.

I hesitantly made my way to the gas pump, and began to fill up the truck. I looked over my shoulder, my attention drawn by the sudden sound of tires on gravel. A black nineteen sixty seven Cadillac eldorado pulled into the empty parking lot. The door creaked open, and from inside stepped out a tall man. He wore a slim fit pinstripe suit. His hair was long, and curly. It was tied up in a bun, with metallic beads spread throughout it. His hair and his skin were both nearly identical shades of brown, while his eyes contradicted. They were bright blue.

Something seemed off about the man. He left the front door of his car open while he stood beside it, fidgeting with the cuff of his suit jacket. His facial features were a mix of sharp and soft, and maintained a general thinness. He walked over to his trunk, and stood there for a moment.

I returned my attention to my truck, and hung the gas pump nozzle before walking back over to the passenger side door. I looked at the man in the suit from the corner of my eye, but I was caught off guard. He wasn't there, and neither was his car. I jogged over to the driver side door of the truck, swung it open, and stepped in. I drove ahead to the spot where the man's car had been parked. No tire tracks, no footprints, not a speck of dust to account for him actually being there.

In place of the man was a note, similar to the one I had found in the truck relatively a day prior. I looked around. Everything was still. Nobody stood out of place. Nobody was really there. I clutched the note tight in my hand while I climbed back inside of the truck.

Part of me wanted to leave it where it was, but another part of me knew it was meant for me. I unfolded it cautiously, it smelt like cigarettes, with the undertone of burning wood. The writing was once again in fluid blue ink.

Judas

I took a deep breath, and dropped the note out of the window before speeding off back to the road. I drove the final few miles to the agreed meeting place. We had agreed to meet at her house to finish the ritual, and banish them for good. We knew what we had done. Hell, we had wiped out multiple innocent people in the process.

I pulled into her driveway. The house was large, two stories. The second story was taken up by the attic. She was on her front porch, smoking a cigarette, and waiting for me. Her makeup was newly done. Her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail. She was dressed comfortably. She stood as I stepped out of the truck and closed the door. As I went up the steps of the porch, she took a deep drag before dropping the end of the cigarette.

"Emma, are you ready?" My face was cold. Probably pale too. I had caught a glimpse of myself in the window. My nose and ears were bright red.

"Ready as I'll ever be." As she spoke, her left hand drifted up her neck and began to rub the back of it. Her hand dropped as she turned and proceeded to both unlock and open the front door. All of the furniture in the house was covered in sheets. She grabbed something off of a table, and held her arms out for a hug. I wrapped my arms around her. She leaned her head on my shoulder.