The Rogue of Hell

Hijinks

An odd looking man limped through the quiet town lost in thought. It had been so long since he had been out and in that time, everything had changed. The few people out, stared and and talked into small, flat boxes and wore strange clothes. There were moving pictures in windows of houses that hurt his eyes. He thought it was some sort of fantastical dream that he was going to wake up from, which brought a frown to his face.
As he ambled along he was pushed into a side street by a shorter man who looked to be about in his late twenties. "Okay listen here ya freak," he said in a thick but unrecognisable accent, "you're going to empty your pockets and hand me all of your money. Got that?"
"I don't have time for insignificant thieves like you."
The thief stepped back in confusion but then drew a knife. "I think you might want to reconsider."
The odd looking man sighed. He had hoped to not use his reserves for awhile and let them build up after having to use up most of it but it seemed like this man might pose trouble. Despite this, he was going to try and talk his way out or possibly scare him.
The thief took another step closer and the odd looking man made eye contact. The thief shivered and it felt as if his hazel eyes were piercing his soul. Then, for seemingly no particular reason, the odd man pulled down his dirty, ripped cloak and smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile, more of a menacing one that would make one scared for their life and that is the exact reaction that the thief had.
"I'm sorry. I never caught your name. Would you mind telling me?" the man said, his smile persistant. The thief glared at him and said "I ain't telling ya my name! You're gonna go to de cops or summing!" loudly.
The odd man's smile grew wider. "Hmmm... I'm Tristan Malise. I don't suppose you've heard of me?"
The thief shook his head in response, utterly bewildered. The man, Tristan, put out his hand and motioned for the thief to shake it. When he did, the thief noticed how strong his grip was for such a frail looking body. Tristan only smiled more at this.
You would think at this point that he couldn't make his smile any wider but once he let go of the thief's hand, he was literally grinning from ear to ear. The way his face contorted could scare even the strongest of souls.
"You know? It's quite rude to not tell someone your name after a person introduces themself to you," Tristan said, this time his face changing to look saddened.
"Why do ya wanna know my name so bad? Huh?" the thief shot back. His legs were shaking in fear and his eyes were darting all over the place. "I-I... Umm w-well m-m-my name is Paul. Paul Henrys."
"Well, Paul Henrys, I think-"
"HELLO?! ARE YOU OKAY?" a woman yelled as she entered the alley.
Tristan grew increasingly annoyed. First he had spent so much time trying to make his way out of Hell, then he had spent far too much time running away, and now he was being held up by some stupid mortals while he was low on power.
"Uhhuhhhuhummmm," Paul replied, visibly sweating.
"Are you okay?" the woman asked, "what was going on here?"
"Nothing that should concern you. I'm sorry if you felt worried or you thought we were fighting but we are just two men having conversations. Nothing to worry about," Tristin said, suddenly nervous. He was never nervous but now, for some reason, he was. He blamed it on the fact that he was weak and more humane but deep down he knew...
"Can I ask then, why does he have a knife in his hand?" she said pointing to the knife in Paul's hand. Paul dropped it and ran as fast as he could. The woman took a step back in shock and turned angrily towards Tristan. He only smiled menacingly. The woman looked shocked. She took a step back and followed Paul back onto the Main Street.
"Well that went better than expected."