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Chapter 2. |Deals and Dummies|

Author: lola12033
last update Last Updated: 2020-06-19 15:57:33

*If only darkness was given chance to take full charge*

There'd be loud inhuman laughter sounding far away, or near

Skeletons would emerge from their graves and roam about freely

Giant cats would be ridden like horses, because they only see brightly in the dead of the night

Demons from hell would be rulers of the world

Newly birthed babies would be given blood baths, fed with blood and not nursed by their mother's busts

Monsters would roam about freely, while humans would hide

Skulls, belonging to both humans and animals would be used to build towers

Halloween would come to live.

All varieties of beasts would freely hold humans as captives and torture them.

Blood would be like beverages because of it's iron after taste.

There'd be free access to Hell

And the christians would lock themselves up in their houses, praying and fasting ceaselessly to God to return the 12 hours of light.

If only darkness was given a chance to take full charge..

©ekpikapere

Flashback.

I watched her bunny slippers clad feet move around the kitchen from under the table I had been hiding for over half an hour now and clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle the silent fits of giggles that shook my tiny body.

Mommy had tucked me in for the night before heading back downstairs to fix herself a drink, judging by the whiff of the air, it was gin. Mommy loved gin a lot. I had snuck out of bed, followed her down here and crept under the table, still unsure of the reasons behind my actions.

The pitter patter of the rain had reduced to a minimal level and I was inwardly grateful that it had finally stopped raining. I hugged my legs and buried my face in my legs as I heard the high chair at the end of the dining scrape the floor and a second later, her feet appeared as she took a seat.

I could hear her drop her cup on the table with a dull thud and sigh softly. I knew she and daddy were having troubles with their marriage these days and the few times I saw them together, they would yell and say mean words to each other.

My algebra teacher said counting always helps to reduce stress, so I always did that. With sweaty palms, and a racing heart caused by fear of being caught under the table, I started.

One panda.

Two lions.

Three goats.

An orange scent filled the air, I vaguely wondered what it was.

Four tigers.

Five peacocks.

Six doves.

The silent air was suddenly filled with the shrill ringtone of mommy's phone and I heard her cuss loudly before picking it up and barking harshly into it.

"What do you want?!" I didn't like her tone, but I already knew who it was, she only used that voice with one person. Daddy.

"She's asleep, why would you care?" They were probably referring to me, my heart gave a tiny leap of joy that underneath, they still cared about me. "Ruby is not our daughter, she's mine!"

"Don't you dare take that tone with me, you bastard!" All traces of initial joy was gone from my system and I felt like I had a bucket of cold water dumped down my spine. "I don't care if you love her! She has me, I'll be her dad and her mom, I'll be everything you've never been!"

Warm, sticky tears were silently dripping down my face, I had friends who said their parents fought and weren't together anymore, I didn't want that to happen to me. I wanted mommy and daddy to be happy again, like they were when I was smaller.

"You're not allowed to see my daughter, I've told her teachers about you. They won't allow you to see her," my mommy was snarling into the phone and I saw something flash down from the table and clutter to the floor. It took me a few seconds to notice it was a knife, that explained the orange scent I was perceiving earlier. Mommy was peeling an orange.

"Fuck you too!" I could hear her slam the phone on the table and a few moments later, the unmistakable sounds to sobbing followed. My mommy's cries soon filled the kitchen and I slowly crawled out, beads of tears dripping down my neck and slowly drenching my pink, cotton nightgown.

I picked up the knife that dropped earlier, my small hand enclosing the entire length of it and made one of the biggest mistakes of my existence.

I held the knife out and called my mommy from under the table, she gave a startled noise and bent to look for the source of the voice. Her pale face, with swollen, red eyes appeared and her eyes widened in shock which quickly changed to fear when the knife in my hand dug into her left shoulder.

She gave a choked sound and I quickly released my hold on the knife which was currently wedged deep into her and thick, red blood was rapidly staining her satin, white nightdress. I couldn't think, my head had gone completely empty as I tried to come to the facts that I had mistakenly stabbed my mother. What was a ten year old to do in this situation?

Mommy was now sprawled on the floor, knife still lodged in her body and the blood had started to pool making the kitchen reek of the metallic scent of blood. I knelt by her body and shook her, noticing how her body was gradually going white by the second.

"Mommy, please be okay," I begged, wondering if I could still pull out the knife. What was I to do now? Call 911, they might arrest me and then I'll go to juvy. I heard that's where all the bad kids went.

I didn't want to leave mommy.

"Mommy, please stop bleeding, I don't want to go to juvy." The blood was everywhere now, and with one last choked sound, her eyes rolled out of focus and her body went still.

"Mommy?"

"Mommy?!"

"MOMMY!" I shook her vigorously but she wasn't budging, why wasn't she moving? I sat beside her and put my hands on the knife, determined to pull it out when I heard him.

"She's gone, kid."

I froze and slowly turned to face the owner of the voice that gave me the chills, he was sitting on one of the old, brown dining chairs and simply put was the scariest thing I had ever seen. He was dressed in all black and had a gaunt appearance with a slight aristocratic look of someone enjoying a private joke. His midnight black eyes glittered under the bright kitchen light and his thick, dark, black dreadlocks looked as though it had been years since a comb had gone through them.

"Gone?" I sounded weird, like I was being strangled. "I don't understand."

He gave a loud bark of laughter that rumbled in his chest and his teeth, which were bright yellow were on full display. 

"Your mother is dead, kid."

"No." I was unwilling to believe any of the words of this strange man who appeared in my kitchen for reasons I couldn't understand. "She can't be, she's just resting." The blood had turned darker and her black hair which had spread out softly on the floor reminded me of Snow White.

He snorted. "Her death was quite funny to be honest."

I bit on my lip, wondering how long this man had been watching us, and most importantly, who he was. His eyes danced in silent laughter as he studied mine.

"You should know who I am by now, kid, you're not dull. You just committed murder." He seemed to find this amusing as he crossed his legs.

"You read minds?" Like I was supposed to be curious about that now but I couldn't help but ask.

"No," he snapped, all traces of amusement disappearing like I had suddenly annoyed him. "But, I can bring back the woman."

He pointed a long, bony finger at my mommy and my heart leapt with new hope and sudden excitement. Yes, it would happen like in the stories where some magical being would fix someone else's mistakes.

That must be why he's here, to fix things. To bring back my mother.

"You can?" I whispered.

The man grinned and I noticed how abnormally sharp his canines were. "Yes, kid. I can bring her back, only you have to pay a little something."

"What?" I was eager now, willing to pay anything for this angel to correct my mistake. "Anything for mommy."

"It's a small price, really." 

"I'm ready, what do you want?"

He uncrossed his legs then stood, walking leisurely over to mommy and bending to stare at her shoulder which still bore the knife proudly. He placed a hand on the knife hilt and with a sickening sound I'll never forget in my life; he pulled out the knife.

"Your soul." He then proceeded to lick the bloody knife which made bile rise to my throat and I shrunk back in sudden fear. "That's the price for her life."

What kind of angel was this strange man? It doesn't go this way in the stories, does it? My soul, that was an odd request but it was my fault that mommy was on the floor looking dead.

"Will I die too, like mommy?" I wondered aloud and the edges of the man's dry, cracked lips raised in a mocking smile. 

"No, not at all." He gave me a smile that was obviously meant to be reassuring but did the exact opposite of that. "You won't even know it's gone."

"You sure?"

"Positive." I shouldn't have trusted him. "Just say after me, 'I' your name'."

"I, Ruby Davies," I said.

"Hereby relinquish all ownership of my soul and declare it as the sole property of Azazel."

I repeated after him. Azazel, so that was his name. He traced weird signs in the air with his fingers and I suddenly felt tired. Very tired and sunk slowly to the floor as the man stood over me, grinning.

"What kind of name is that? Azazel?" I murmured sleepily, the man's midnight black eyes seemed to glow.

"Oh, kid. I have a lot of names, although you must be familiar with one, everyone calls me that."

I closed my eyes. "Tell me."

"The Devil." I was half asleep now. "Everyone calls me that one. Goodnight, kid."

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