The Twin's Downfall | COMPLETED

Epilogue

It was pouring outside – casting a dimness to the outside world and giving John Smith a calmness in which he cannot seem to describe. The weather had turned colder, and he knew what was best for a rainy day. Hot, sweet tea. Thus, he decided to make himself some, and as the kettle was boiling, he sets the tea bags in the pot and went to resume his light reading by the living room.

Honestly, John was immersed in the fiction world so it took him awhile to realise that the staircase below was creaking. Immediately he paused to listen, wondering if he was hearing things but indeed the stairs were creaking. Someone was climbing up the staircase and he knew it was not Mrs. Turner because she was out holidaying with her friends.

He was the only occupant.

So, who was it and how did the intruder enter without a sound?

Was it a burglar?

John's heart skipped twice at that thought and he licked his lips, wondering what he ought to do when he had a brilliant thought. Laying down the book, he quickly tiptoed to the kitchen to grab the bat lying beside the refrigerator. He would swing the bat at the intruder – hard enough to lay the person unconscious and he would call the police.

Yes, that's a brilliant plan.

He inched across the kitchen slowly and steadily, heading towards the side door where it intersects with the hallway after the staircase. He could still hear the intruder walking and the sound of footsteps stopped suddenly – as if the intruder could sense John was on the other side. He held his breath as the doorknob twist open and the door swung inward to reveal a person in a dark cloak.

John Smith did not think twice and swung the bat blindly – hoping it will make contact to the intruder and lay him or her unconscious. It did make contact all right, he heard the sound of wood hitting bone but when he opens his eyes, he saw that the intruder had a hand on the bat. John's eyes widened in shock as the bat broke into two and the hood revealed the familiar white hair and golden eyes.

He sucked in a shocked breath. "Demeter," he choked.

"You could've hurt yourself," she pointed out with a slight frown. "What were you doing swinging a bat like that?"

"Y-you're alive," he managed to speak. His throat has tightened and his eyes were watery so he hastily wiped them away. The sudden appearance of her made his waterworks come unannounced and he was feeling bashful.

Demeter seemed curious suddenly as she began to look around the kitchen and went to open some cabinets, peering in to see the contents. "Yes, I'm afraid I can't die," she quipped in a morose tone and turned around to face him. "I'm sorry it took so long. I had a lot of things to clean up back home."

John Smith wanted to ask many questions – they piled up against his throat and it was difficult for him to say any. His tongue was dry suddenly. He wanted to know what had happened. He wanted to know if her world was safe now. But out of all the questions he wanted to ask, his mouth said something else instead.

"A-are you sure it's safe that you're here?" John asked. "You escaped from a highly-secured institution."

Demeter held his gaze. "It's been six years, I'm sure they've forgotten about me."

John was sceptical about it because he knew they'd deemed her as dead but did not try to mention about it. All of a sudden, he felt awkward. Demeter was staring at him too intently, and he averted his gaze in embarrassment. He had been dreaming and fantasising about meeting her all these while that he was simply at loss on what to do next.

"How are you?" she asked, deciding to lead the conversation. "How is the new job?"

The kettle flipping its button signalling that the water has done boiling jerked him into reality and he was himself again. Remembering his manners, he quickly ushered her into the living room to sit down as he busied himself in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Demeter spent the time admiring his bookshelf collection.

John brought a tray laden with trinkets and set it onto the coffee table – noticing that Demeter had a book resting on her lap. He was pouring tea and the milk into the cups when he finally noticed the book that she was currently perusing. Gasping at the title, his eyes went wide and he almost lost hold of the tea pot.

"What are you doing?" he demanded as he went up to her to grab the book from her. "This is the Holy Book of Scriptures!"

She was taken aback at his sudden ferocity. "Oh, I apologise. I didn't mean to be discourteous."

Alarmed, he checked her hands while muttering about the holiness of the book. Demeter grew confused at his feverish attempt and halted his movements by yanking his hands away to grab hold of them swiftly.

"What is the matter with you, child?" she asked firmly.

"I got scared there," he admitted.

"Of what?"

He hesitated. "That you'd be burned if you touch the book."

She smiled and let go of his hands. "Do not worry, child. I am no devil. I will not be hurt by this," she said with a wave of her hands. "Sit down. Let's have a chat."

John Smith took a cup and handed one over to her before he sat down opposite her. It has been awhile since he has visitors in his apartment, and he needed to have a little dusting down after this. He took a sip of tea, watching her over the rim of his cup as she took a tentative sip of the brew. A demon is seated opposite me and drinking tea, he thought. I wouldn't even believe this would happen.

"How is your job?" Demeter asked. "Are there still disturbances with the dead?"

"No, I have transferred to a different division," he replied. "I teach kids now."

She smiled. "I'm glad you heeded my suggestions," she stated.

"But you didn't tell me that time moved faster here than back in the Demon World," he pointed out as he set the cup on the table next to him. "Two years passed by after you brought me back here."

The smile tightened on her lips and she looked sad suddenly. "I couldn't bear telling you that," she muttered. "It was my fault, my carelessness was the reason that got you abducted and made you lose precious time with your family. I just had to return you home immediately before I wasted more of your time."

John watched her closely, finally noticing the faint patterning on her cheek and at first he thought it was a wound she had gotten from her battle, but the longer he looked, it looked like there was a vein-like pattern that creeped up from her neck and splayed on her cheek. The dimness of the room cast a shadow across her face, so he was unable to see properly.

"What happened to you?" he asked in a whisper, afraid to know the truth.

"This is a present I got from my brother," she said, touching the pattern on her cheek gently. "A reminder of what he had done, and what my family had done."

"Does it hurt?"

She smiled. She was not expecting that. "Yes," she murmured. "And I can't seem to get rid of it. It's a very powerful parasitic magic. Its bounded to me."

John didn't know what to say to that. Demeter took a sip of tea, let out a melancholy sigh and looked down by the fireplace. There were still many things to be asked, but he knew they could be asked on another day when the situation and atmosphere had gotten better. Demeter needed some peace, she looked tired and trying to save her world must've been exhausting for her.

He was touched she remembered him and took time to visit.

He couldn't ask for more, especially to a demon.

John smiled softly and sipped his tea.

It was enough for now.

.