|
“Here is your booth, ma’am, I will be right back to take your drink order.” The brown eyed woman said, as she smiled and offered the other side of the booth to the blue eyed woman.
Mark looked up from his menu and gave his new guest an odd look. Something between a glare and a confused stare. Whatever objections he might have had to the new audience, he seemed to have put to rest. He was happy with his new companion.
Once the waitress left, Mark cleared his throat and grinned down at the woman in front of him, “hello Miss, are there no other available booths?”
Smiling back politely, she nodded, “all the other booths are in the smoking section, and I can’t stand the smell.”
“Well then,” he began, “I would be happy to share my booth with such a beautiful young woman such as yourself.”
It had been more a natural reaction on her part, but her cheeks flared a gentle hue of pink, “thank you so very much, Sir, you are very kind to not kick me out on my butt. You see, the chairs are comfortable, but they don’t have the support that these booths have, and I have terrible lower back pains…”
His left brow slightly rose in interest, and he could not stop himself from saying something, “well I’m not professional, but I do give a pretty good therapeutic massage. Maybe after you get something in your stomach you could come back to my place and I can show you.” She could see the wheels turning inside this man’s head, disgusting, but at least her acting was working.
“That would be lovely,” at that moment, another waiter came by, this time a black haired brown eyed young man.
“Good afternoon, can I get you two something to drink?” questioned the heavily overweight man.
“Water for me, please,” Syra answered automatically.
“Water for me, as well, I need to lay off the caffeine,” he was smiling at the young woman the whole time as he said this. He probably thought ordering what she ordered was flattering to her.
“Alright, I will be right back to take your orders.” Once he left, the young woman picked up her menu and scanned it. Everything looked pretty good, but she frowned, hoping her expression would coax him into buying her lunch.
She had money, but why pay when you could manipulate?
“Is something wrong?”
“Um… this is so embarrassing, I thought I had enough money for this place, but I seemed to have not brought enough with me.” Looking down and to the left, she frowned once more.
Mark laughed lightly, “Its ok Miss, I’ll pay for it.” He paused for a moment, “I never got your name…”
Jumping at this statement, she looked Mark in the eyes and said the first name that came to mind, “my name is Kathrin, Kathrin Jane. May I ask yours?”
“Kyle Samson,” he lied smoothly, keeping his real name secret.
Despite his outright lie, she smiled, “it is a pleasure to meet you, Kyle.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. Kathrin.” Reaching across the table, he grabbed one of the hands she held the menu with, and kissed the back of her palm. “It is very nice to meet you indeed,” he whispered, trying to sound seductive.
Another blush crept across her cheeks, “indeed.”
Once again the overweight waiter returned, “Are you two ready to order?”
“Yes, we are, Ms. Kathrin, what you do want?”
Glancing over the menu once more, she hurriedly picked something out, “the fish fry, please, with green beans and mashed potatoes.”
“Two of the same,” Mark responded.
Nodding, the waiter walked away without saying a word.
“So, are you from this city? No offense, but it doesn’t seem like you know the restaurants very well.” He was again smiling at her.
“Oh, um no, I’m not from the city, I’m from Oklahoma.”
“That’s quite a bit to travel from home, what brings you here?”
She smiled, “a new job.”
He smiled, “sounds exciting, what do you do?”
“I design clothes.”
The rest of the time they spent making useless chatter. They talked about careers, hobbies, likes and dislikes and the recent weather. When their food came, both ate quietly. Once finished, Mark commented on how good the fish was. The bill soon followed and the two walked out of the restaurant. Asmodaios was still leaning against the building, looking as if he were asleep. Mark paid him no mind and kept walking, never noticing once the tall dark brown haired man began following him.
Mark led the two down Canal Street to a nice looking apartment. As they walked, he told her that no one but him resided in the apartments since the building was to be condemned in a few months. He wasn’t worried about finding another place, so he was putting off the inevitable. Syra mentally rolled her eyes. She hated men like him, and that fact made her cringe inwardly. To get this over with quickly, she would have to motion to Asmodaios quickly. He knew some kind of binding spell, but a spell would not get this man to talk. No, Syra herself would have to get him to talk, and she knew exactly how to get what she needed.
“Do you want a drink?” he questioned as both made their way into a large building.
Syra glanced behind her to see that Asmodaios was lounging nonchalantly on a deep maroon red couch that was placed in the middle of the lobby. Giving him a discrete glance, he closed his eyes in response, and got up and walked over to the elevators, making sure his strides brought him there after Syra and Mark got in.
“No, I don’t drink, I never have.” She answered sincerely. The thought of alcohol in her body was a disgusting one.
“I meant water, coffee, or lemonade, something to that degree,” he said with a joking laugh.
As both stepped into the elevator, Syra looked up, “water will do.”
Before the elevator doors could completely shut, Asmodaios shoved his hand between the door and the wall, “excuse me, I need to go up.”
Mark grew suspicious, “no one but me lives here, why do you need to go up?”
Cockily, Asmodaios pulled an identification badge from his pants pocket. “Hotel staff sir, I’m going up to the roof.”
Syra’s pray was not convinced, “don’t staff usually take the stairs?”
“With how cold it is outside coming in through those doors? Hell no, I take the elevators, Sir.” He gave Mark a simple smile.
Leaning back against the wall, Mark glared, not trusting him, and for good reason, but he would not know that until it was too late.
Eventually the elevator stopped on the tenth floor. Mark grabbed Syra’s hand and helped her out of the elevator like a gentleman. At this Asmodaios could have gagged, trying to butter her up like that was disgusting to him. Especially when the man buttering her up was a deviant of the worst kind, pushing the thoughts away, he stepped off after them, taking a rag out of his pocket that held a small spray can. Spraying the rag, he stepped forward, hooked his arm around Mark’s neck and covered his mouth and nose with the rag. Within seconds, Mark was out due to the chloroform soaked rag.
Asmodaios was happy to let the monster crash to the floor, but Syra was annoyed, “pick him up and take him into his apartment. I’ll find a chair and you bind him to it.”
--
Mark awoke to a pounding headache and restricted limbs. Though grogginess loomed around the outskirts of his consciousness, he knew he had been tricked, and was now bound. How could he have let his guard down like that? To be bound by a woman, a tiny, worthless woman, how degrading. When a tiny yet malicious laugh sounded in the room, the bound man shook his head to clear the fog. Once his eyes opened, he spotted the young woman, Kathrin, sitting in a chair across from him. The staff member that was going up to the roof was standing next to her.
“So, are you planning on killing me or do you find this kinky?” he questioned, grinning when he heard a loud growl from the ‘staff’ member who had probably knocked him out.
She grinned, “Asmodaios, please leave the room, I will take care of the rest.”
Scoffing under his breath, Mark thought about how much trouble she would be in once he got his hands free.
Kathrin seemed to notice his cocky expression, “you won’t be able to unbind yourself,” she told him, tracing a pattern on his upper left arm, “you aren’t bound by ropes, chains or duck tape. No, you are bound by a very strong spell.” She fibbed, she really had no clue how strong Asmodaios’ spell was.
Mark raised a brow at her, “you actually believe in magic? How psychotic are you really?”
“Hmm,” she stopped her tracing then tapped her chin, “if I’m psychotic, then why can you not move when it looks as if nothing is binding you?”
Looking down at his arms, his torso, his legs, he saw that she was right. “The hell did you do to me?”
“Now, now, Mark, let’s not make this about some trivial spell. I brought you here so you could give me information about Jacob Milowry.” She purred.
“Like I would tell you anything,” he barked.
Smiling a devilish smile, Kathrin leaned down so her face was directly in front of his, “it’s simple, you give me what I want, and I…” she paused, looking away with a small fake smile, “I will give you what you want.”
Her words were a seductive purr that Mark found hard to resist, “why should I trust someone like you?” he questioned, gulping silently.
“Your boss, Jacob, he killed my family. I’m sure you remember Syra Reese,” his eyes bulged, “yes, that same woman is me, and I’m looking to off the one who stole my family. So why not be a good boy and help me?” she questioned, sitting on his lap so that her legs could wrap around the back of the chair. “As I said, you give me what I want, I give you what you want.”
With Syra pressing her body against his, Mark found it hard to think straight. His resolve to keep any information from her was quickly melting away. Once the young woman began rubbing her cheek against his neck, he lost it, “ok fine, I’ll tell you what you need to know.” Grinning, Syra leaned back, giving him her full attention, “Jacob has given three people a number to directly contact him by. If you look at the drawer over there, you see it written on the underside of the drawer.”
She gave him an interested look then got up from his lap, went over to a desk with one drawer, and opened it. Then she kneeled and sat on the ground, and craned her neck so she could see under it. Sure enough, there was a number etched there in pencil. Quickly she memorized the number then searched for a phone. Spotting it on the desk itself, she picked it up and walked back over to Mark.
“Here’s how this works,” she began, “I will believe you if you call him and ask him his location now, and his next two locations after his meetings. If he asks why you need to know, tell him that you are bringing a few new clients who are willing to work for him to off their debtors.” With a nod from her soon to be victim, she dialed the number and listened to the dialing tone until she heard a ‘hello’ on the other end. Then she put the phone up to Mark’s ear.
His gaze never left Syra’s as he talked, “hey boss, I was wondering where you were holding up right now, and where you will be the next few times you change locations.” He listened for a second while his boss questioned him, “I have a few more clients to direct to you, they have huge debts over their heads and are willing to work to off them.” He was silent while his boss gave him the information Syra needed, “why are you at the Lower East Side Tenement Museum? Right, right, not my business,” he grew quiet while he listened again, “ok, so then the Kent Avenue abandoned subway tunnel in two weeks, then the house that was evicted recently on John Street. Thanks boss, I will be sure to send them over within the next couple of weeks.”
Turning off the phone, Syra grinned, Mark did as well, believing he would get what he wanted. “Thank you, Mark, you have been so very helpful.” Sitting on his lap once more, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Why don’t you undo whatever the hell your friend did to me? Then we can find somewhere… private, so we can be alone.” She could practically see the drool flowing from his mouth, and it disgusted Syra to no ends.
“I’m sorry, but your services are no longer needed, Mr. Stein. I’m so sorry I won’t be able to keep my promise,” she told him as she licked his cheek, “perhaps you will get what you want in hell.” Standing up once more, she walked over towards Mark’s couch and picked up a black steeled machete.
“You won’t get away with this, your finger prints will be on something!”
She ignored him, knowing that her finger prints would not be a problem, “I thank you for the information you provided me, I will be sure to keep it safe.” Mark knew there was no chance someone would hear him, but it didn’t stop him from screaming. Syra slowly stalked back over to him, weapon poised and ready, “goodbye Mark, you will not be missed.” The last scream to leave his mouth was cut short by the cutting blow of the machete, decapitating him easily.
Once the man was silent, Asmodaios walked back into the room. Syra was over at the man’s sink, taking a dish towel and turning on the faucet. While she washed herself, Asmodaios turned to the decapitated man’s limp body that had fallen out of the chair after he had been killed. Wiping the symbol for his spell from the man’s arm, he proceeded to place his hand over the bleeding stumped known as a neck. The flowing blood immediately began to flow into Asmodaios’ veins, filling him with the vile creatures’ life force and blood. Once done, Asmodaios was not sure if he was going to be sick or not.
Syra finally had the information she needed to exact her revenge. If he didn’t find a way to stop her, she would become a devil, and there would be nothing he could do to stop her.
“Did you take care of the security tapes and any witnesses?” she questioned, wiping her hands.
“No one is here during the day and I took the tapes out before you got here. I put them back in once I left the room.”
Huffing, Syra glared, “if the tapes are in now how the hell are we supposed to get out of here?”
“Through the window,” he answered easily, and before she could say anything, he revealed his hidden wings, grabbed Syra by the waist, and flew out an open window.
--
The report appeared on the news two days later when a staff member knocked on Mark Stein’s door to tell him he needed to find another place to stay. There was no answer so the staff member walked in to find the Mark decapitated. Syra grinned, she had the information she needed, and she would soon have her revenge. However, Asmodaios’ continuous pacing was starting to distract her from her goal.
The devil had not stopped since they had gotten back to Syra’s apartment, and it was finally wearing on her last nerve. “That’s it, Asmodaios, tell me right now, why you are pacing!”
He gave her a frantic look, but went back to pacing.
“Do not ignore me!” she shouted, “Why are you pacing? It’s driving me insane!”
Breathing in deeply, he stopped and gazed down on her form sitting rigidly on the couch. “I’m trying to figure out how to keep you from making a big mistake.” Then he went back to pacing, “you don’t know, you don’t know what it’s like, the consequences, you don’t know the pain, the loss. Becoming a devil is worse then what you are already going through.”
“Damn it Asmodaios, if you would actually explain, maybe I would understand!” she yelled, now becoming extremely irritated with his behavior.
“Why are you so interested now in learning the consequences of your decision, huh? You have never listened to me in the past, why start now?”
Standing up, Syra walked over to the window, “I couldn’t tell you why, there’s just a part of me that is curious.” She bit out angrily.
“Finally, something from you that isn’t hate or irritation!” she scowled at him before he went on, “you really want to know why you have to stop this now? I will tell you. Exacting your revenge will turn you into a devil yourself, since you have summoned one to help you. Even if you send me back before you finish, your soul will still be blackened to the point where the very first devil known can capture and turn you into a devil. We may have heightened senses, some spells and magic, but they are not worth the price. You lose all memories of your family, Syra, every single memory you have ever had, gone, and the only thing you can remember is why you wanted revenge. In the end it leaves you with hate, anger… all you want is more revenge and bloodshed. You aren’t yourself anymore when you’re a devil, you become exactly what you yourself killed, a monster.”
Syra was silent, so he went on, “I don’t want you to become like that, Syra, you should be the woman I see behind the façade. Be the happy person you once were, and still can be.”
Different conflictions ran across the young woman’s face. First she was struck, then she was irritated, scared then pissed, “why does it matter to you?” she finally shouted, “my choices don’t affect you, they never have, so why do you care?!”
“I care because I fell in love with you!” to actually have said the words, felt like a weight off of his chest, but he knew that alone would not sway her, “I fell in love with the person I knew you could be, the person you had once been! Syra, without the memories of your past, you will not be the same person, and I don’t want that for you. What you choose to do with the information you have now greatly affects me, Syra, because if you continue with this, there will be no saving you, there will be no turning back.”
Shaking her head, she backed up, it was all too confusing. “You couldn’t have told me all this before?” she screeched, “why couldn’t you just be blunt about it, why confuse me now?” high pitched screams escaped her throat, she could not deal with this. Knotting her fists in her hair, she let out a frustrated scream. From there, she did the only thing she could do to deal with the situation. She threw a tantrum, something she hadn’t done since her parents died.
Angrily, Syra began throwing everything she got her hands on. Remotes, clocks, books, papers, pens, everything went flying at her touch. She pushed over lamps and shoved the T.V. to the floor. Ripping the DVD player from its cords, she threw it behind her. Nothing escaped Toilet paper was thrown everywhere and shampoo, conditioner, and body wash bottles were thrown against the mirrors which shattered. Drawers were ripped from their tracks and their contents strewn all over the place. When she went into the kitchen she tipped over the chairs, shoved the table into the wall, threw everything out of the fridge, took the pots and pans and threw them against the walls, and took the drawers and threw them behind her.
Before long, the entire apartment was trashed, and when there was no longer an item she had not touched or destroyed, she turned on Asmodaios. Punch after punch, and kick after kick she threw at him, but none connected. This angered her more.
“Why, why did you have to confuse me now when I am so close to finally getting my revenge? Why is it now farther away than ever before?” she yelled, still throwing punches and kicks at Asmodaios, who easily dodged them all. “Stand still,” she screeched, “fight back, do anything but dodge, do something besides infuriate me!”
Taking her words to heart, he easily caught both her fists and held them together against his chest, “I don’t want you to suffer anymore, Syra, but you would never listen to me. You don’t know what it’s like to not remember anything about your past, good or bad, especially when you know there had been good and bad times. I may be confusing you now, but you will thank me for saving you the pain of hating yourself.” As he spoke, Syra struggled against his grip, tears flowing down her cheeks, “Do you really want to live a life where you can’t remember your children, not even their names? I don’t think you do, Syra, please stop this now, become the woman you once were, the life of that woman is much better suited for you.” His words were both gentle and harsh as he pinned Syra against a wall, locking her wrists above her head.
“Why should I stop this? My kids are gone, Asmodaios, dead! What had I thought I was going to do once I killed that b*****d? Huh, there’s nothing I can do except rot, I want to live, but I have nothing to live for without my children!”
“No one can replace your children, Syra, but you can always have more.” His words were now so soft and gentle, and the way he spoke confused the young woman more.
“With whom would I have kids? No one in this world would want a woman who has already had two kids that were killed. They wouldn’t even have to know what I have done to think me psychotic! With who, with who, with who?” she yelled, tears pouring down her cheeks.
Despite her tears, he smiled, “with me,” he said gently. Following his tender words, Asmodaios let go of her wrists, cupped the young woman’s cheeks and softly molded his lips to hers.
Syra’s first reaction was to fight him off, but her body quickly gave up on that and responded to his kiss, where she quickly found herself kissing him back fervently. For the first time in over three months, Syra felt something other than hatred and irritation, but it soon returned. Pushing him away, she glared at him angrily.
“It doesn’t matter,” she began, “it never would have mattered, I’m going through with this, Asmodaios, I’m going to kill that monster, no matter the consequence.”
The devil looked at her with a mixed expression of anger and sadness, “then you leave me no choice. I will not help you any longer, Syra, you are on your own, I can’t watch you destroy yourself.” Syra said nothing in answer, which caused the devil to angrily leave the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
It wouldn’t have mattered, she told herself, no matter what he felt or what she felt, it wouldn’t have mattered. She had set out to get revenge and that was what she intended to do. Grunting, she turned to her desk, kneeling to the floor to pick up the many objects she had flung from it. She was still so confused, but her anger far outweighed her confusion. So what if Asmodaios was a sentimental fool like her brother? That didn’t concern her in the least. Her one and only concern was the ultimate demise of the man who killed her purpose in life.
--
Three days later, Syra had her plan set. The first thing she would need to do is make sure she wasn’t recognizable to Milowry. Once she went down to the hideout, she would pose as one of the vile creatures that went to him to off their debtors. She would then gain his trust, get him alone, and then do to him what she had done to fifty-one other men. There was not much else she had to plan for. She was strong, and could hold her own, so she wasn’t worried about being attacked. Acting came with obtaining revenge, so acting like a weak woman was not a problem.
What would she do for a weapon though? She was sure that they would search her, to make sure that she could do their boss no harm. Then again, the body of a woman was, in itself, a weapon. Using the same tactics she used on Mark, she could get close, pull out a gun she was sure he would have on him, and shoot the monster point blank in the head.
Syra pulled the collar of her coat up over her neck, trying to seem like it actually bothered her. She wandered around the older Lower East side Tenement Museum, looking around to see where she should enter. Her question was answered when a big looking thug came out of the building and approached her.
“What do you want, little Miss?” he questioned, his bald head shining in the pale light of the day.
“I’m one of Mark’s clients, he told me to come here before he got whacked.” She answered, twirling the hair of her blond wig around her finger.
He looked her up and down, lingering on her chest. After sizing her up, he threw his head towards the building in a gesture for her to go in. Nodding in response, she walked up to the entrance, looked back at the thug, who was behind her, then went in. The thug followed her, directing her through the halls of the abandoned museum. When they had come to a huge open area, he motion for her to sit down, and told her that he would notify the boss that she was there.
Curling up on the bench, she looked around, then noticing other thugs walking around. She wasn’t surprised that they all looked like thugs, with huge bodies and bald heads. Had she not been here for a purpose, she would have glowered at all of them. Instead, she cringed as she spotted each one, milking the part of a helpless woman. As she observed her surroundings, one of the thugs approached her with a short man with red hair and brown eyes.
This man now looked Syra up and down and seemed to find something that he liked. When he cleared his throat, she jumped, “ah, so you are the client that worthless pile of flesh was sending over. I must say, I expected another failing businessman, but you look quite the opposite, may I ask your name?” he questioned, stepping in front of her and taking her hand to kiss the back of her palm.
“Clarice Moore,” she answered.
“Clarice, such a beautiful name, such a fragile woman, what have you gotten yourself into that would make you come to a man, such as myself?” he asked in what he probably thought was a charming voice.
“I started my own business a couple years ago, I got swindled on a loan and bankers have been chasing me since. If you could get the loaner off my back, I will happily do anything in my power to repay you.” Her bright honey colored contacts slightly misted with fake tears.
“Don’t worry, my dear, let’s go back to my office and we can discuss the specifics.” Leading her down one of the many halls that branched off the huge room, he continued to talk, about what, she wasn’t sure.
Eventually he stopped in front of a huge door that had a plaque above it that read, ‘Manager’s office.’ Before he opened the door, he turned to Syra, “sorry, Clarice, but I’m going to have to search you.”
“Of course,” she answered, and tolerated while the little man searched her body for more than just weapons. Rotten little b*****d was feeling her up. However disgusting it was, she used it to her advantage, and shivered, as if it pleased her to have his hands on her body.
“Ah, well, you’re clean, but I’m sure you knew that,” he said with a laugh, “come my dear, into my office.” Nodding with a blush, she walked in before him.
The room was nothing spectacular, just an empty space with a desk, chairs, computer and a clock. Sitting down in one of the chairs, Milowry took his seat behind the desk.
“So, who is it that swindled you?”
“A man named Johnny Swine. I guess I know why his last name is such now.” She frowned and dabbed at her eyes, as if she were crying.
“Ah, a man quick with words, it’s understandable that you would be lead into a swindle by him. Don’t worry, my dear, I will be sure to take care of him. My question to you is, what are you willing to do to pay me back for my services?” his question was suggestive, as was his second look over of her body.
She blushed again, “I would do anything!” she exclaimed, getting up and moving behind the desk, kneeling before him and grabbing his hand. “This is my first business, and I plan to expand, I need him off my back if I am to survive. Please, I will do anything to get him out of the way.” She pleaded, her eyes tearing up and spilling over for effect.
She could see it in his eyes, he couldn’t believe his luck that he had found such a woman willing to do anything to get rid of her debtor. The wheels in his head she could already see turning. He was planning a way to get Syra to agree to get into bed with him. Taking her hands from his, she placed them on his knees, and slowly slid them up his thighs. It was controlled, but she could feel him shudder beneath her fingertips. It disgusted her, but she kept going until she hit mid-thigh, then stood up and crawled into his lap.
“Please, if you can help me, I will give you anything you want.” She pleaded with her eyes, with her voice and her body. She could feel his heart race.
Typical, she thought, it was a wonder any man got anything done. They were so easily distracted, and he was definitely distracted by her body. So much so, he took a pocket knife from his jacket lapel and placed it on his desk.
He chuckled and licked his lips, Syra shuddered in disgust, but what he thought was excitement or pleasure.
Moving so that she straddled his waist, she wrapped her arms around his neck, doing the same thing to him that she had done to Mark. “Whatever you want, I will gladly pay that price,” she purred, slowly moving one arm behind her so she could grab the pocket knife. “If there is any service I can offer you, I will fulfill it.” The vermin before her was all too eager for her to begin her ‘payment.’ Her revenge was so close, she could feel it. The knife was light in her hand, as if it were a part of her, all along, knowing what it was meant to do.
While Milowry was distracted by her body, she poised her weapon at the jugular vein at the base of his neck. She grinned as she thrust the weapon down. Inches away, she could see it in her mind, it would be quick, painless, not something a man like this deserved, but it would serve its purpose. However, the plan she saw was halted by another hand, which held her wrist.
Milowry finally noticed something was wrong, and looked up, “what the hell?” he exclaimed, pushing Syra to the ground and backing up. “You little… you’re with the police!”
Asmodaios placed Syra on her feet, “she isn’t, but he is.” He pointed to Syra’s brother as he ran into the room, and tackled Milowry to the ground.
“You have the right to remain silent,” he began, but Syra heard no more.
“No! Why did you do that? It’s my revenge, mine! He is mine to kill, mine! I have to kill him, why did you bring my brother here?” As she went into a rampage, Asmodaios held her back.
“Syra, give it up, it’s over, the police have Milowry, he will be tried and convicted, go back to a normal life.” The devil soothed.
“How does he even know about this place? Let me go, I have to take my revenge! Everything else is meaningless—” before she could finish her sentence, Asmodaios turned her to face him and all his fury.
“Is he really worth your life,” he questioned bitterly, “is that scum on the ground worth losing your life, your memories, your family over?” she remained silent, “make a choice, Syra, either you go after him and go to jail as well, or you can give up and get off Scott free. Revenge or me?”
For a long moment she looked at the man who had ruined her life, then at Asmodaios. Strangely, all her anger ebbed away, and something entered her mind, thinking him Asmodaios was not the right name. What was that saying he had always told her? Ego diversus sum, ‘I am different.’
Her body relaxed, “alright, Diversus, I won’t go after him,” she had not realized, but he had been in his true form. A dark smog enveloped him, and then his devilish features were gone. “What the hell was that?”
“That was the end of my sentence in hell.” He answered, smiling down at the woman in front of him.
|
|
A mute conversation caught the young police chief’s attention, the voices sounded familiar. Was there something wrong with him or were they just talking way too softly to distinguish where he had heard them? Or was his mind muddled beyond comprehension?
“You really should eat something, your health will deteriorate if you don’t eat.” The man’s voice was soft but familiar.
“Whatever you say, John…” John, that name!
“Syra?”
“Cyrus, is that you?” questioned his little sister, somewhat timidly.
“Well at least you recognize me, yeah it’s me kid. I’ve been looking for you two, I forgot to ask where you lived, and John… you got a last name that goes with your first?”
“Oh, it’s Righter, I told you earlier.” John answered coolly, not seeming to care that he was so easily forgotten.
“Right, sorry, I forgot. Anyways, so where do you live? I was hoping that maybe my family and I could come visit my sister.” Scratching the back of his head, he laughed nervously.
“The apartments on Barclay Street, seventh floor, seventh apartment,” John gave Cyrus a curious look, “I don’t see any reason against you visiting her. By no means do I control her or anyone else. She is free to come and go as she likes, as are you, if you wish to stay.”
At his offer, a strange irritation flitted across Syra’s face, but was quickly replaced with a timid smile. “You really should visit,” she said in a small voice, “it’s a lovely place.”
Frowning in wonder, he nodded, “my wife and me don’t work tomorrow, so I’ll bring the family over. My kid really misses you, Sya, and the Misses has worried herself sick over you. She blames herself for not being there for you to comfort you and all.”
“She shouldn’t worry so much, I’m fine. John has been taking good care of me.” More annoyance flitted across Syra’s face, and John yelped then glared at her.
“Is there something going on that I should know about?” questioned Cyrus, looking from his sister to this John person.
Rolling his eyes, John answered, “I forgot to turn off the coffee pot and Syra glares at me when I do that.”
Laughing lightly Cyrus nodded, “yeah, she always yelled at me for doing things like that after our parents died. Strangely enough, she became the parent and I was the problem child.”
John seemed to be intrigued by this, sitting up straighter he asked, “She was the parent after your own died? How did that happen?”
“Um… I need to use the restroom, I will be back in a minute.” With that, Syra promptly left the table.
“Did I say something to upset her?” John asked, seemingly confused.
“Our parents had always been a sore spot for her. When we were about eight, maybe nine, our parents were driving home from work together, since they worked together at a newspaper. Police told us that they didn’t know what happened, a drunk driver was coming their way but they should have been able to avoid it. I guess there had been some faulty wiring or something in the car, I don’t know, but the faulty ‘wiring’ caused their deaths. I was angry that someone could so callously pass a car for an inspection, and Syra stayed cool, and understood the situation for us.” Sighing deeply, Cyrus got up and sat across from John.
“We lived with our aunt who had cancer, by the time she died, we were fifteen, had our own jobs and were actually pretty stable with our money, plus the money we got from our parents. Not to mention our aunt left us a generous sum of money so we could survive on our own. After that it was just us, me sneaking out and looking for a buzz, Syra went to school, got awesome grades, and kept me in line as best she could. Now that I think about it, I feel so bad that I made life so rough for her. She actually had to tutor me, which wasn’t easy since I never paid attention. Sometimes I wonder why she never gave up on me.”
John stayed quiet and thoughtful through Cyrus’ reminiscing, and smiled warmly when he was done. “She loves you, and wants only the best for you, that is why she never gave up on you. Personally, I don’t think she terribly minded taking care of you, you are her twin brother, and you two must have a connection that is hard to understand.”
The young blond waitress walked up with Cyrus’ coffee and when she left, he snorted, “you seem to be the only one who realizes that. Yeah, that connection used to be so strong, but now it seems like she is afraid of me. It used to be strangers she was most of afraid of, but she seems to be quite fond of you.”
He then looked down, “I wouldn’t say that, even with me, she is quite distant. It doesn’t seem like I can reach her, I believe you are still the only one who understands her. I still don’t know why she insists on straightening the silverware, papers, bills, whatnot just because one little thing isn’t quite straight.”
At this Cyrus laughed, “It’s an OCD thing. Before our parents died, she was diagnosed with a mild case of obsessive compulsive. Can’t say our parents much cared, she actually liked cleaning because of that little quirk.” Smiling sadly down at his coffee, he took a sip, “my wife probably wouldn’t mind it if I had that quirk myself.”
“You and your wife are close?”
“Yeah, she was my High School sweetheart once I straightened myself out when I turned sixteen. Wouldn’t look at me while I was the wild child, but once I straightened up, well, it went up from there.” Taking another sip from his coffee he smiled ruefully. “Has there ever been someone special in your life?”
“Once, a while ago, but she was killed in a drive by shooting.” John’s expression seemed to darken considerably.
“I’m sorry, this world can be a tough one to stomach, but you get passed it. Whether it is a lover or a parent, you learn to live and move on. May sound cold and heartless, but it’s what Syra taught me. ‘Look on the bright side,’ she’d always tell me, ‘we are alive and well.’ Have to say, she was right, at least we were alive and we had each other.”
“You two are lucky to have each other, I don’t mean to sound like I am looking for pity, but I had no one to turn to when my fiancée was killed.” Another waitress came along and gave John two small cups of cappuccinos and a basket of bread sticks. Silently, he sipped his cappuccino, and that was about the time Syra returned to the table.
She sat down quietly without a word, “you feel better, kid?” Cyrus asked, putting on a smile.
“Yeah, bladder is empty.” She responded mechanically, however, the familiar phrase was enough for her big brother, since it was something she would only say if she was in any way herself.
“Don’t people usually say, ‘yeah, I feel better,’ Not explain that their bladder is empty?” John asked, not understanding why she had given so much information.
“That’s my sister for you,” explained the elder twin brother, “she has always been blunt and gave way too much information. You should have heard her friends in school, they would tell her to go pee and she’d throw back that she didn’t want to. She’s the strangest girl I’ve ever met.”
Syra frowned, “hello, I’m right here, stop insulting me, Cy.”
Laughing lightly, Cyrus took another sip of his decaf, “s’not an insult, it’s a compliment. No one likes the normal chicks, it’s all about the weird ones like you.” Chuckling as she threw a salt packet at him, he raised his hands in defeat, “you’re right, I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”
“Idiot…” she complained.
“That’s the Sya I remember.” Grinned the brother.
Out of nowhere, John winced and he looked at the clock above the counter behind Cyrus, “uh, I have to run, got a meeting to go to for the shelter, new renovations and all. You going to stay here, Syra, or are you going to go back to the apartment.”
“I will stay here for a bit with my brother, I’m sure he has a lot to tell me about his family.” Before the words even left her mouth, she knew she would regret it, Asmodaios knew she did not care, what-so-ever what her brother’s family had been up to, but if she didn’t stay, he would begin to suspect something.
“Ok, well you have a key, let yourself in. Oh, and maybe you should have your brother escort you there, crazy people are out in the streets lately.” With that he slightly bowed to the siblings then left.
“So what is it about guys named ‘John’ that you like so much?”
--
“I swear if you ever do that again I will strangle you, Asmodaios, never again do I want to hear about my brother’s horrid child.” Syra was not in a happy mood, when she had stomped on his foot, it was a gesture to make an excuse for them both to leave, not just himself.
“If anyone is going to believe your façade, you are going to have to appear with your brother, do things normal people would do. Take the time to catch up with him, it’s only three months, and who knows, maybe you can get passed this revenge thing.” His tone was hopeful, something Syra had come to understand was not a devil like trait. There was something seriously wrong with this devil, and she began to wonder if that book had lied when it said he was the fiercest devil in the underworld.
“Keep ‘praying’ devil, fat chance it’ll do you any good. God does not answer the prayers of the evil.” Plopping down on the couch, she rested her head against the headrest. She had to admit, it felt good to sit on a comfy couch. It seems she had underestimated how much she would miss simple comforts, too bad she wouldn’t be using them long. As soon as her stupid brother was off her a**, it was back to some old, abandoned building.
“You never listen to me, do you?” he questioned, frowning as he sat down in the recliner that was positioned across from the couch she was on.
Syra gave him a bored glance, “I ignore you whenever possible, yes.”
“You’ll never find happiness you know, not while on the path you are on now.” There was sadness in his voice.
Ignoring what she did not want to hear, she bit back harshly, “yeah and how would you know? Revenge is all I have now!”
His teeth clenched together, and he stood up, rigid with anger, “you have so much more to live for, Syra, you have your brother, you still at least had a house and a family. If you would just give up this revenge business, you could go back to that, and live a normal life.”
Shooting to her feet, she started yelling, “what would you know!? Huh? You are a devil, an unfeeling creature who is supposed to encourage revenge! What would a devil know about me, about the situation I was put through? You have no idea who I am, or what I have been through, you will never understand why revenge is the only way for me!”
Taking two long strides, he stood in front of Syra, using his height to try and intimidate her, “you can say nothing! You do not know my past, so therefore you know not what I myself have been through. If you could just open your mind and your heart for one second, you would see that I am only trying to redirect you to a better path. One day when you finally listen to me, you will thank me for not being a devil that ‘encourages revenge.’ You will thank me.” After that he stared her down, unblinking and unwavering.
“I will never turn my back on my revenge, I would sooner die then give up on that.”
“Then you live a life filled with nothing but anger and hate.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed tightly, “you will regret those words, I can guarantee that. Syra, think this over, open your mind and your heart and feel something other than hate and irritation. If you do that, you will know what I say is true.” Letting his hands fall to his sides, he turned and walked out of the room.
Her brain had shut down momentarily, and as it came back to life she glowered in his direction, “you would know this how?” she challenged him, “how would you know what I will come to regret and what I could enjoy? Decapitating the b*****d who killed my family is the only thing that would bring me joy.”
He never answered her query, and even though she saw him around the apartment throughout the rest of the day, he did not try to talk to her once. Like a child, he just kept going about his ways, ignoring Syra, seeing right through her and never acknowledging her challenges. If he was giving her the cold shoulder, so what, why should she care?
The annoying thing was, she did care, she did care that he was no longer acknowledging her. It annoyed her and she hated that his ignoring her annoyed her so much.
--
After their little argument, Asmodaios decided to give Syra the silent treatment. She would have to learn somehow that the path she was on would surely destroy her. Though it pained him to do so, he followed through with his decision. The entire night he did not once take notice of her, though he had noticed her. How could he not?
Syra was a beautiful young woman, and from what he had heard from her brother, she also had a beautiful personality. Why had such a beautiful person let this situation get so out of hand? Why would someone with the support she has, be looking for revenge? Asmodaios could not figure it out. She had a family that could have helped her through her pain, so why did she turn directly to revenge? There had to be a reason, so he searched the memories again of their first meeting for answers.
Asmodaios stood in front of her, a tall dark brown haired, blue eyed devil. “Why do you look so human?”
“A devil has to have some way of disguising himself in order to blend in with the crowd. My true form looks pretty human as well, if you discount the strange markings and the wings.” He answered, looking blankly down at the brown haired, blue eyed woman. Those eyes were captivating.
“Couldn’t you just cast some kind of spell so that your true form is not revealed?” she questioned, feeling that her logic was correct.
Asmodaios shook his head, “that is a mere fairy tale, devils use very little magic and spells. The only advantage we have over humans is that we are stronger, faster… that kind of thing.” He had left out that most devils also had a knack for being born from revenge, “for what reason do you seek revenge?”
Her whole demeanor changed at this point, “a gang known as the Blood House gang killed my two children. I want to find and kill them.” The expression on her face was strange.
She was angry, yes, but there was a strange emptiness in her eyes. Her eyes, they were empty, but they held something, something deep within the pools of her eyes. It was like she only hated half the situation. Why would he read that kind of expression? Why was he able to read her emotions so well?
The simple truth hit him like a ton of bricks. She did not really love her family. Well, her children she loved, definitely, but her husband, she had not loved him. Why though? If she had not loved him, why marry and have kids with him? For what reasons did people marry? To his knowledge, people married for love, obligation or acceptance. Or could she have married to fill a void in her life? She had not told him, but it did not seem like she had known him all too long before she agreed to marry him. It had probably been a case of a random proposal and acceptance, just because he popped the question.
Why though, why would she accept a random proposal? What had been missing from her life that a man could have given her? Once again, tuition hit him with the force of bricks. Her brothers’ words to him earlier, she had been the parent, she needed someone to mother. She needed someone to mother because her own mother had been taken and she had taken over that roll, and when her brother no longer needed a mother, she felt… unneeded. It was all making sense, and the sad thing was, it was so obvious.
Many mothers, after their children were grown and living their own lives often have gone through a withdrawal. Whether they over compensated with their spouse by babying them, or shut up inside themselves, it was not an uncommon thing. So that was Syra’s problem, the Blood House gang had taken the patch that covered the void in her life. Now that they were gone, she hated them so much she wanted revenge. Knowing that Syra had gone to sleep he allowed himself to slide down the hallway wall.
So that was her reason for going out for revenge? To think this was all because they took the patch that covered the empty void in her life? Could she not have waited for the right man? Hell, she had only been twenty, still young and fit, even now, she could have found someone she truly loved, married and had kids with him. Why settle for a marriage where love was not present? His gaze fell on the wall, he felt wretched. Had he the chance, he would have stopped looking for revenge, and gone on with his life, he would have found someone new. Sure he had truly loved his fiancée, but he knew she would have wanted him to be happy, not miserable and searching for revenge. If only he could remember the times he had had with her.
Sighing, he picked himself up off the ground. He would find a way to deter her from continuing on the path of revenge. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he decided that in the morning, when she awoke, he would stop ignoring her. Perhaps she had learned something from his silence. One could only pray that this was the case.
--
Syra’s alarm went off at six thirty, but she did not get out of bed. She wondered why Asmodaios’ behavior was affecting her so much. Growling and grinding her teeth, she cursed whatever was wrong with her. If she was to accomplish her goal, she couldn’t be concerned with his petty silence. Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she stood up and stretched. Breakfast was all she needed to clear her mind. Walking out of her bedroom, she made her way down the hall to the kitchen. To her surprise, Asmodaios was making breakfast.
“So you are finally up?” he questioned, not turning to face Syra.
“You are finally talking to me again?” she challenged, but he still did not turn to face her.
“I talk to you only for your benefit. Sit, breakfast is almost ready.” From the smell she could tell it was bacon and eggs.
Sitting down at the small rectangular table, she yawned. Why did it feel so awkward being around him now? Shaking her head, she pushed the feeling away. He was a devil, she had summoned him, and he was to do as she told him to do. That was the simple truth, and there was nothing awkward about that. As she was thinking, Asmodaios set a plate in front of her, but she did not start eating until he sat down as well.
“Why is it for my benefit that you are now speaking to me?” she questioned, “how is it to my benefit?”
Breathing in deeply, he closed his eyes and rested his chin on folded hands, “you obviously learned something while I ignored you, but you will gain nothing more if I continue to ignore you.”
Her hard expression came back full force, and the annoyance she had felt became stronger than ever, “exactly what have I been learning since you ignored me?”
“That is for you to figure out.” Standing up, he left the room, leaving without having eaten.
Why this should concern her, Syra didn’t know, but it didn’t seem right that he made her breakfast without eating any himself. Revenge may have been her only purpose in life, but she wasn’t stupid or ungrateful.
“Asmodaios get your a** back in here and eat something.” she ordered, and in silence, he returned and made himself a plate of food and sat down to eat. “Thanks… for making breakfast.”
His gaze remained on his food, “I am only doing what I must do to keep you safe.”
Crinkling her nose, she had to ask, “Since when has it been your job to protect me?”
“You may have summoned me to help you exact your revenge. That also includes protecting you from harm while you seek your goal.”
“I thought you wanted me to stop looking for revenge.”
For a moment he was silent as he chewed a bite of food, “of course I don’t want you to look for revenge. It’s a waste of time and does not lead to anything but more despair, but there is only so much I can do to deter you.”
This time she was the one who grew quiet. Why did he want her to stop looking for revenge so badly? “How do you know? Why are you so determined to get me to stop my search for revenge? How would you know the side effects?”
Before he answered, he finished his food then stood up, still looking down, his expression saddened and downcast, “because years ago, I was in your position.” Without another word, he cleaned off his plate and left the room.
For a long while, as Syra slowly ate her breakfast, and thought about his words. He had been in her position, huh? Well that was men for you, she concluded, men were typically filled with more hate and anger then any woman. Whatever happened to him would not happen to her, because when she exacted her revenge, she would be able to live peacefully and begin anew.
Her feeling of being superior made her feel as if Asmodaios’ actions were useless. There was nothing to worry about, and she would not let revenge consume her. No, she may want these people dead, but she wanted to live free too. She would have to make Asmodaios see that revenge would not to do her whatever it had done to him. Then again, how was she supposed to get through to him? Something told Syra to just be blunt.
Finishing her breakfast with a satisfied smile, she got up, cleaned off her plate, and went into the next room in search of Asmodaios. Surprisingly enough, he was not where she thought he would be. He couldn’t be in too many places since she hadn’t heard the door. She checked around the entire apartment and found nothing. When she finally checked the door in the very back that led to the fire escape, she noticed it was open. So he had either climbed to the roof or descended to the streets.
Deciding the only way she would be able to find him was to look, she made her way up to the roof. It had been a good choice. After all her searching in the apartment, she was spared looking all over New York for him.
“Did you just now finish your food?” he asked his voice bitter and sarcastic.
“Why are you up here?” Syra retorted.
“The view is nice,” he said sarcastically, “right here is the only place where anything makes sense.”
Her expression hardened, “what are you talking about?”
He turned to face her, his expression angered yet hopeful, “you should be like the people down there, Syra. You should be walking or driving your way to work, living a normal life, not skulking around looking for revenge.”
“Why do you care so much what I do with my life? It’s not like my choices affect your life? In any case,” she continued without giving him a chance to answer, her anger was once again rising, “looking for revenge will not affect me as it has you.”
Before she knew it he was in front of her, staring her down angrily, “Syra, you are not above anyone else on this earth. Revenge will affect you as it has affected everyone who seeks it.” His hands clasped her face, and he directed her gaze directly into his own, “if you continue to ignore my warnings, you will become the very thing you hate. Syra, you will become a monster, someone who does not deserve to be in this world.”
Slapping away his hands, Syra backed up, “and I suppose you would know?” she shouted angrily, “you would know what revenge does to people because you were once in my place. I don’t see it Asmodaios, you are not human, how could you have been in my place?” She glared at him, her glare accusing and piercing.
“Why do you refuse to listen?” he shouted, pulling at his hair, “I told you, I used to be human, before my fiancée was killed, I was just as human as you are now. When she was killed I did the exact same thing you are doing now, I summoned a devil and I sought out the people who killed her. Our situation is exactly the same except that I didn’t know the price of exacting my revenge, and if you ever bothered to listen to my warnings, you could avoid the same fate!”
“So then just tell me what your stupid warnings mean, Asmodaios! Quit being cryptic and just tell me what happens to a human once revenge is exacted!” Syra yelled, going hysterical with anger.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he shot back at her, “can you not tell what getting your revenge this way means? Look at me Syra, really look at me! I am no longer the human I once was. I am a devil because I did everything in my power to take another life when I should have moved on. Revenge took my human life away and cursed me to the life of a devil.” As he concluded, he looked at Syra with burning eyes, eyes filled with so much pain that now made so much sense.
Syra was taken aback, but she could not bring herself to say anything to him. In the end, it did not matter what he said, she had a plan and she would not stop until she completed it. However, she could not bring herself to tell him this. If it pained him so much to see someone make the same mistake he did, then maybe she should just let him go back to the world of the devils.
The whole entire time Syra was silent, he kept his eyes directly on hers, “I can see the thoughts in your mind, Syra, I can decipher your expressions and decode the thoughts behind them. You can tell me you no longer need me, but I will not go. There is a reason you read about my name, there is a reason I specifically came to help you. The path you are on is not the right one, and I am here to show you that.”
Syra felt insulted. He acted as if she were a child who needed to be scolded for doing something wrong. “Revenge may not have worked out for you, but I am different, it will not affect me as it has you. Stop trying to point me in a direction I do not wish to go in, I will do as I please.”
“What does it take to reason with you?” he cried loudly, throwing his hands in the air, “do you not have a brain or is it that yours is damaged? Listen to me for once, you are just like everyone else, this path will affect you the same as anyone else who has walked it. There is no getting out of the consequences of this choice!”
“Why do you care so much about what I do? My choices don’t affect you at all, Asmodaios! So why should you care if I choose revenge over a ‘normal life’? What concern is it to you?” she roared back at him, her temper flying to a new high.
“I used to be human, Syra, do I need a reason? Have you never been given kindness just because someone was that nice? I told you before, I am a devil, but I have not followed a devil like stereotype since I came to my senses. Ego diversus sum! I care because I choose to care.”
“Humans are disgusting creatures. They do not deserve what they have. Every day you hear about someone who gets run over, or kidnapped, or something to that effect, in the middle of a crowd none the less, and no one ever stops to help. They just keep walking like they witnessed nothing. Random acts of kindness are not a phenomena of this world, Asmodaios. You may choose to care, but others don’t, so I choose to believe that it is not possible.” she stared him down, both of them were silent.
His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply and exhaled silently, trying to control his rising anger. Her own nostrils flared with her own anger. Why could he not understand that the path she set for herself was the only one she could walk?
He took a few more deep breathes, and then began speaking. “Truly, I had hoped that maybe someday you would have come to notice, but it does not seem that you have. If you listened to what I have been telling you, and if you had questioned the way I touch you, you might have gotten the clue as to why I care so much, and why I believe that random acts of kindness are possible. Think, Syra, why do you think I hold onto your shoulders, or hold your face, or grab your arms, when I am trying to get a point across that think skull of yours?”
Syra had no answer for him, what could she say to all that? True to what he said, she didn’t notice anything, and she did not understand what he was talking about. “How should I know why you are a touchy feely devil?” she barked angrily, pissed that he would call her thick headed, though not with those exact words.
“My God, do I have to spell it out for you? When I first met you, you reminded me of someone I was close to, and since then… God I can’t believe it’s not obvious to you. This is maddening, can’t you make the connection yourself? Surely you noticed something!” his words were flustered and unorganized and he continually pulled at his hair in frustration. “I’m at a loss here, Syra, I don’t think you would get it even if I spelled it out.” Plopping down on the roof top surface, he crossed his legs and laid his head in his hands, mumbling something about Syra not understanding anything.
“Damn it Asmodaios, just tell me, and be blunt! You know I won’t care what you say anyway.” She was not expecting his reaction to be a frustrated, yet somewhat, saddened sob. This situation she did not understand, and it was making her temper soar to new heights.
“That’s just it, you should care! Or at least have some kind of opinion! It’s what most humans crave, what some are afraid of, what some seek out but never find.” He did not lift his head from his hands as he said this.
It seemed as though the great Asmodaios had finally been defeated by her. So why was she not happy that she finally wore him down to the point where he would probably just go along with whatever she said? Why was she not rejoicing with this victory?
“Well, you already know I won’t get it on my own, so stop beating around the bush and just tell me.”
At those words he looked up at her but said nothing. His eyes said it all, and the answer was right in front of her, but she was oblivious to it. Syra felt a strange distance form between them, and for some reason, she really did not like the fact that it was there. Balling one hand into a fist, and covering it with her other hand, she turned and walked to the fire escape. Whatever it was that he could not just tell her, well, it must not have been as important as he made it seem. If he was not going to say something, then she was going to plot her next move.
--
Mark Stein, a brown haired brown eyed man, a tall man at six five, about average building and somewhere along the lines of two hundred some odd pounds. He was not a hard person to spot in a crowd since he towered over most other people. Syra grinned to herself, his personal attributes, or should it be said, his personality? The man was a womanizer, his passion was playing around with a woman, then getting them into bed. How he managed that, Syra did not know, but she would soon find out.
Motioning for Asmodaios to stay outside and keep watch, Syra made her way inside the small seafood restaurant Chambers Street. Asmodaios had largely disapproved of her plan, but the young woman had made up her mind. If she had to use her body to get to her target, then that was what she would do.
Standing in the entrance, a waitress walked towards Syra, grabbing one menu for the newest customer. “Excuse me ma’am, can I find you a table?”
Smiling warmly at the young brown haired blue eyed woman, Syra shook her head, “I’m here to surprise my friend, he’s sitting over there, at that booth in the back.” Pointing in Mark’s direction, the waitress frowned.
Had she known how Mark operated, she would not care how good looking he was, she would run, hide and bolt her doors and windows. Vent shafts as well, from what she read, this man could be very dangers. However, the young blue eyed young woman was not afraid. She could take care of herself, and she would get answers as well.
“Very well, follow me, we’ll approach from behind.” The young woman led Syra around an island that held the salad bar. From the looks of it, the restaurant was styled to look like a huge kitchen, with the island in the middle separating the smokers and the non-smokers. Surprisingly and fortunately enough, Mark was on the non-smoking side, to the young blue eyed woman’s delight.
|
|
She had always been a loving wife and a loving mother. Syra Reese was a sweet, optimistic young woman who had been full of life. That woman had been the best twin sister a big brother could ask for. That woman though, she's gone, whether she is dead or hiding, either way, that woman is gone.
It had been a normal autumn day. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on. The neighborhood in which she lived was as quiet as ever. Syra had gone out grocery shopping, and had stopped down at the police station to say hi to the boys. When she had visited she was as normal as someone like her could be. It was true what they said about artists, they were eccentric people, and his sister was no exception. However, after she returned home, her neighborhood was anything but quiet. As soon as she walked inside the house, her whole world had been shattered.
--
She replayed the last moments of her sanity. “Hello fellow humans of this household, I am back from the center of shopping with our supplies for sustenance.” Had she really said things like that as if it were normal? Perhaps she had never been sane.
Her life, her family, it had all been taken away from her. John, her husband and her two beautiful children, four and five years old, slaughtered like poultry. Had she not gone out like her children had begged her not to, (since they wanted her to play a game with them) she would have been lying on the floor, cut, beaten, bruised and dead along with them. The worst part of it was, there was nothing missing from the house as far as Syra could see, so she did not know what the bastards had wanted.
After she had called her twin brother, she didn't bother looking for any missing piece, so perhaps something had been stolen. What would it have mattered if Syra had even known? It wouldn't be like she would try very hard to get it back. There was nothing to find, her soul was gone, her children, gone. Material possessions meant nothing compared to them. So what if some petty thief stole some kind of jewelry or electronic? They stole something much more important.
That fact wouldn't leave her mind, and it played over and over again. She was alone the family she had worked so hard to create was gone, within an hour’s time. The last kiss on the forehead of her children did not seem adequate enough a goodbye for them. How do you say goodbye to your loved ones, well before their time? As a once devout Christian, she found that she wasn't as strong with her religion as she thought she had been.
Quickly, Syra learned that she was not going to say goodbye, not until she found the killers and gave them their just rewards. Anger quickly overcame her heart as her brother and his fellow officers explored the scene. All numbness she had felt since calling him seemed to evaporate in this new intense fire of hate. Before anyone could notice the change from her blank and numb expression, Syra left, deciding to never surface within her old neighborhood again. She would find her families killers, and then she would be able to start over.
No one had seen Syra slip out the side door in the kitchen. No one noticed her as she made her way across the neighbors’ yard. By car, she lived about five minutes from New York City, so she made her way towards the concrete jungle under the cover of the shadows. Once she found an alley to settle in, she would have to raid her brother's crime files to see what info they had on the suspects of the crime.
She suspected a gang that had been working closely in her area for the past five months. The bastards were pretty allusive, so there was a good chance it was the Blood House gang. By way of which her family was slaughtered, it looked like their MO. Syra’s escape to the cities many alleys seemed long and boring. The whole neighborhood must have been surrounding her house. No, it could not be described as her house any longer. No longer did she have any attachments to that house. So what was she, homeless? Yes, she was now homeless, but what was she? A victim, an avenger, an innocent bystander?
Revenge, that was the one word that rung in her mind like a bell throughout a metal tower.
She had to take her revenge on the monsters that did this.
How, how was she to find them?
What could she use to find the killers of her family?
An idea struck her. She could always use the information that her brother found, but she could also look into the supernatural world. Spirits have been proven to exist within the earthly plane of existence, so why couldn't she call upon them to help her? Surely they would know how to find who she was looking for. What spirits to call upon though? She was sure that certain spirits were peaceful, and would not help a human looking for revenge. Syra needed to someone who revels in bloodshed, a devil.
-Three months later-
Robby looked warily at the commanding chief, he was a wreck. He had never seen such a strong man cry before, but after his sister had gone missing after she called them in, he broke down. It was what he had always been afraid of, he had told the congregation at John and his kids’ funeral. His sister, Syra, had been an eternal optimist, but he was afraid one day, when something extreme happened, she would be crushed under all the other times she had to push away the negative. To say the least, he was right.
Since that day, no one had seen his sister. Some speculated that she killed herself, others say she’s hiding, living her life in secrecy and solitude. The young man named Robby, who was a short man at five feet two inches, with pale skin, blue eyes and blond hair, could not put himself in his chiefs situation. He had never gone through something so devastating, and it was hard to imagine, no matter how many times one has seen a scene such as that.
“Rob, stop staring at me and stay at the ready for an emergency.” grunted Cyrus Belfield, the police chief.
“Sir, don’t you think it is possible that your sister is the one doing all this? I mean she did disappear…”
“I don’t want to hear it, Officer Doerun, my sister is not the one committing these crimes.” How much Cyrus wanted to believe that his sister wasn’t committing these crimes, but at the moment, he couldn’t exclude her.
There were very few facts. One, the victims had their heads cut off while the rest of the body looked charred and drained of any blood. His sister was a suspect only because these killings started happening right after she vanished. For the thousandth time that day, for the billionth time since his sister disappeared, he prayed to God that his sister was innocent, that she was just hiding somewhere.
“… Chief Belfield we have a 10-66 down on East Broadway and Grand Street… dispatch needed right away. Suspect spotted by witnesses, they describe her as five foot five, brown hair, small build. They then reported her driving away in a nondescript white SUV with what looks to be filled with miscellaneous items. Send a backup team down here, we have five or six victims…”
“Turn that off and get your a** down there, Doerun, take Jay’s crew with you.” Cyrus covered his face with his hands, fighting back angry tears. The description sounded so much like her, and he knew that his sister had had a white SUV, but far as he knew, it was impounded, and then sold at a police auction. Had he the money, he would have bid for it, he had so badly wanted to keep something of his sisters.
“Gotcha chief,” taking the radio from his belt, Rob turned it on and called for his backup, “Jay, I need your crew to come with me to East Broadway and Grand Street.”
“… We’ll meet you down there, Doerun.”
Gathering his weapons and his jacket, Rob stopped at the door, “I only have four of my crew today, chief, you coming with us?”
Breathing in deeply, Cyrus stood up, “yeah, I’ll go with you, I’ll never get anything done by sitting here.” Following Doerun’s steps, Cyrus got his stuff together, and both were out with the unit within minutes.
--
“None of his contacts know a thing! How hard can it really be to find these monsters?!” as each second ticked by, Syra grew more and more vexed, she wanted these people found, and she wanted their heads on a silver platter.
A tall dark haired man slightly shifted across from her, “I told you it was possible that they wouldn’t know anything, not to mention you don’t give them much chance to talk.” His expression was lazy and laid back, which angered Syra even more.
“We would know something if you would do your job right!” she screeched, not worrying about being heard. Abandoned buildings had always been useful that way.
Straightening up from leaning against the wall, he gave Syra a hard stare, “I have been doing my job, and I am helping you and keeping you from getting yourself killed at the same time. If you ever listened, you would understand that none of this is guaranteed.”
“You are a demon! A devil, for crying out loud you are mythical! You should be able to pull something off!” she growled loudly, about ready to strangle him.
Taking three strides, he was right in front of her, looking down at her, he cupped her chin in his fingers so that their eyes met, “I am what I am, but even someone such as me cannot pull off everything that you ask of me. There are limitations to what I can and cannot do. It would do you well to learn this, Syra, or else it will get you killed.”
Unblinking, she glared at him, “when you are done avoiding your duties, talk to me, I need to find our next target.” Ripping away from his grip, Syra stalked towards the rooms exit to the stairs, and jogged upward to where her laptop lay in wait.
Using the wireless internet, she had been able to track the movements of criminals associated with the Blood House gang. So far, none of them even knew where the hideout was. Except for one coward who had pleaded for his life told Syra something interesting before she cut off his head.
“So you change locations after every meeting, hm? That will only make it that much more interesting to find and kill you, Jacob Milowry.” Syra grinned at knowing her targets name, raiding her brother Cyrus’ files had been a good move.
Now if only Asmodaios would do his job right, she could find this man and kill him. Booting up her laptop, she drummed her fingers nails along the molding wood of the desk, placed to the far right wall near the outlets. Each second that passed by that the computer had to load, irritated her more than the last. Nothing worked right, everything was slow and nothing did their job right! She started grinding her teeth, about ready to throw the laptop against the wall, but just as her last nerve was about to be smashed into smithereens, the screen came alive and her desktop appeared.
Pulling open the left drawer, Syra took out a stack of papers. This man, Jacob, he dealt with a lot of people, and though over the last three months Syra had targeted at least fifty of them, there were still about fifty pages of people she still had not tracked down. If nothing else, she at least had quite a while before she had absolutely no leads. At least, that was her guessing. After all, she had to keep an open mind.
Having used to be a doctor, she had to take into account health and age. Most were in their early twenties and thirties, people who had gotten into trouble and debt and needed someone to off their debtors. Most were healthy, except maybe a few with asthma or emphysema.
So caught up in her searches, Syra had not heard Asmodaios walk in, but his movements did not startle her. Everything ceased to startle her since she left humanity. “What do you want, Asmodaios?”
Dropping a metal tray on the desk, it landed with a clatter, he glared at Syra once she met his gaze, “eat, despite being so strong, you will grow weak if you do not take care of yourself.”
“You do not order me around, Asmodaios, lest you wish to be sent back to your world in shame.” He did not flinch, so she merely scoffed, “out of my sight, I do not wish to see you right now.”
Turning sharply on his heel, he calmly walked out of the room. For the next four hours Syra worked, searching for her next target while simultaneously picking at her meal of bread, vegetables and meat, with a glass of water. After she had finished her meal, she had found her next target, Mark Stein, a man of about the age of twenty-eight, and in good health. Looking over his recent sightings, Syra grinned, he was in a fairly closed location, a place with lots of cover and little people. Perfect.
Turning off her laptop, she folded down the screen, got up, stretched and walked over to the cot in the far left corner of the room. Time had lost all meaning to her, and now whenever she felt the need to sleep, whether it was day or night, she slept. Another advantage of abandoned buildings, the windows and doors were boarded up, therefore, if it were day, no light. Light, she despised the light, if ever there was such thing as evil, light was the definition. This notion floated around in her consciousness as her world turned black.
--
Deciding he should check up on his mistress, Asmodaios made his way back up the steps to the room she had claimed as her own. The rest of the building, she had told him, he could do with as he wished. So the floor beneath her room he had turned into what could only be described as a home kitchen and bathroom. As he entered her room, he spotted her immediately on her cot. With a frown, he took seven long strides before he was at her side.
Asmodaios looked sadly down at the sleeping human woman, she looked so fragile. Shaking his head, memories of his summoning and their first meeting filled his mind.
The young human woman had performed the ritual beautifully, but her heart was filled with so much darkness, a darkness that drowned out all the light that had once dominated. Asmodaios had felt pity for the human woman, she should not be spending her time summoning devils for revenge, she should have just moved on from the tragedies in her life.
The next thing he knew, she had called out his summoned name, ‘I summon Thee, Asmodaios, to aid me in my search for revenge…’ he had been surprised, how had she gotten his name specifically?
A portal had opened in front of him, and with a sigh, he stepped through it. The human woman took no notice that her ritual had worked.
Kneeling before her, Asmodaios bowed his head, on one knee and his fist connected with the floor for balance, he acknowledged his ‘master.’ “Human who has summoned me, state your name.”
His words should have startled her, but she was dead calm, it was an eerie sight to the devil, he had never seen a human so non-reactive as her. “Syra Belfield, formerly known as Syra Reese.”
“Very well, Syra Belfield, you have summoned me to help you find your revenge. To stay here I need blood, human blood, whoever we contact to find your target, you must cut off the head, and I shall drain their blood. This is the price that must be paid.”
“I don’t care about the price to keep you here, as long as you help me find Jacob Milowry.”
“As you say, Mistress Syra, I will do whatever is in my power to help you.” However, Asmodaios did not wish to help this young human woman, at least, he did not wish to help her with revenge. His only wish was to free her from this all consuming darkness.
Shaking his head, he walked over to the opposite corner from Syra’s cot, and settled down for the night.
--
The first thing Syra felt as she awoke was someone shaking her shoulder and a whispering voice in her ear, “Syra, get up, we have to get out of here now, the police tracked your car here.”
Grinning, she spoke softly, “why do you think I used my old car? I wanted to attract the police, I want to show them how ‘helpless’ and ‘catatonic’ I am.”
Realization dawned on Asmodaios quickly, “you don’t want your brother to be looking for you. So you do still have some heart.”
She frowned, “I am not doing this to protect him,” was she? “I am doing it to get them all off my tail, so they won’t suspect me.”
Asmodaios rolled her over and glowered at her, “I’m pretty sure they’ll suspect you when they find you in an abandoned building, not to mention, you have the car that was used to get away from the scene of the crime yesterday. Yes, what evidence is there against you?” he asked sarcastically.
She gave him an evil grin, “that is where you come in, Asmodaios. For this little act, your name will be John, once they take me in, you will come looking for me at the police station and tell them you picked me up somewhere. You can come up with the rest of the story, but you have to leave now, and take everything that has my finger prints on it with you.”
Without a word, he got up and gathered her laptop, shoved the molding desk towards the back wall and destroyed it, then left the room. Curling up on her cot, Syra put on a broken face, a face so scared that anyone would believe her innocent. For good measure, she wiped her fingers across the dusty surface of the floor and smudged her face, arms and clothing with dirt. Now all she had to do was await the arrival of her audience.
--
Five minutes ago Chief Belfield had been cleaning up a crime scene when the dispatcher called and told them the get-away car had been spotted parked outside an old abandoned building on North Broadway. Belfield and Doerun rushed off, hoping that they got there before the suspect who drove the car could get very far.
To their surprise, the car was still where it had been said to have been spotted. Cyrus motioned to his five men to spread out and find any entrances. Taking a deep breath for one last prayer that his sister was innocent, Cyrus dashed and broke down the door with his shoulder. Dust kicked up from the doors movement, but nothing other than that stirred. Grabbing his portable radio from his waist, he called the other men and women into the building so they could secure the building.
Cautiously, Cyrus made his way towards the stairwell. Reaching for his flashlight, he turned it on and flashed it upwards. There was no movement, everything seemed dead. Slowly, he stepped up onto the first step, testing to make sure it would not squeak or give out under him. The step made no sound, so he continued and lifted his other foot onto the second stair, still no sound. Confident he would not startle anyone who may be in the building, he slowly made his way up the stairs.
Painfully slow, Cyrus made his way up flight after flight of steps. Once he reached the fourth floor, he could hear tiny sobs. Torn between being worried that someone could be injured in the building, or believing that it was a criminal’s trick, he quietly dashed up the stairs to the seventh floor, where the sobs were the loudest. The door into the room from the stairwell was closed here, so logic told him someone was in this room.
Ramming his shoulder into the door, he burst into the room, “freeze and hands in the air…” before he could say anything else, the words caught in his throat. There, curled in a ball on a cot, was a broken little woman. At the sound of his voice, she shakily got up, turned and looked up at him with a broken yet blank expression, tears running down her face, “S-Syra… Syra, what happened to you?”
“Chief no one else is in the… Syra?”
--
“Where have you been?”
“...”
“Were you the one who decapitated all those men?” nothing, only silence from his younger twin sister, silent since he first found her in the old abandoned building.
“You have to talk to me, Syra, it’s the only way we can clear you of anything.” She looked up at him with her blue eyes filled with sadness.
Her lips moved in an attempt to say something, but it did not look like she could say anything. Cyrus motioned for Doerun to get her some water, which Syra downed in a second when it was offered to her.
“Syra… what happened to you? Why did you disappear?”
“I… I don’t know… I was… I…”
A loud door slam startled everyone, “sir, you can’t go in there, they are interrogating someone.”
“Syra?” Cyrus’ little sister looked up immediately at the voice that had called out to her.
“…” she said nothing to the person who called her name however.
Standing up, Cyrus glared at the tall, dark haired, blue eyed man who walked in. “Who are you, how do you know my sister?”
Startled, he blinked a few times then answered, “I’m sorry, my name is John Righter, I run a homeless shelter off of North FDR Drive. A few months ago I saw her wandering around on the streets, looking lost. I led her to the shelter, but she freaked out. One of the nurses told me to find her a place to stay so now she is staying in my apartment.”
Breathing in deeply, Cyrus thanked the Gods that his sister had been found. He refused to believe his sister was any longer considered to be connected to any crimes, though she had not been officially cleared.
“If you had been taking care of my sister, then why did we find her alone in an abandoned building?”
John shrugged, “I don’t know, she was sleeping on the fold out couch when I went to sleep, but when I woke up this morning she was gone.” John stated.
Frowning with his unsatisfactory answer, he turned to Syra with a question, “Syra, why were you in that abandoned building?”
Shaking her head wildly, she knotted her fists in her hair, “I don’t know! I just ran, I just ran!”
Nodding and trying to ignore his sister’s somewhat childish disposition, Cyrus asked John another question. “How did you know to look for her here?”
“Where else do you go when reporting a missing person? I had filed a missing persons report when I found her, so I figured coming here would be my best bet. She only told me her name was Syra, so I asked the secretary if she knew anyone with that name and told me she was being interrogated.” He then shrugged, like everything he had done seemed logical.
Cyrus would have to eventually run a check on this guy, but his story was credible, so he settled for being thankful. “Thank you for finding my sister, I have been worried about her since her family was killed.” This seemed to interest the young man, “she never told you why she was wandering around on the streets?”
“To be fair, she has been distraught and fairly detached from the world, she only told me her name and nothing else.” Answered the young man coolly.
Sighing then sitting down in his chair, he motioned for John to sit down in the chair next to Syra, who had been unusually quiet. “Yeah, about three months ago, her husband and four and five year old were killed. Before we finished exploring the scene, she was gone. We were worried that she had been connected to the decapitations since it was her SUV and a description that was pretty damn close to what she looks like that was caught leaving the last scene.” At the word ‘decapitations’ Syra cringed, John put a hand gently on her shoulder and smiled.
They exchanged glances and it seemed that she felt comfortable with this man. “How long ago did you say you found her?”
“Two and a half months ago I suppose? Probably a week or two into September.” He answered slowly, trying to figure exactly when he had found her.
Cyrus cradled his head in his hands, “so she was alone like that on our birthday? I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you Sya, so very sorry.”
“Don’t blame yourself, I know she doesn’t.” John said confidently.
His sister finally moved to shake her head, “I don’t blame you, Cy, I did not wish to be found. John just so happened to be a little more observant then other people.”
“Wait, you called her Sya?”
“That is what my parents and I called her for short.”
“Oh,” John then fell silent.
“Sya, I can’t imagine what you have been through these last three months, but you don’t have to be alone anymore. You can come live with me and my family, they’ve all missed you, Sya.”
“No…” her voice was just a whisper.
“What?”
“No!” she cried, curling into a tiny ball in her seat, “no, it’s not safe there for me!”
Cyrus stood up and walked to his sisters’ side, “what are you talking about? My house is safe for you, Syra, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t touch me, I’m not safe!” Cyrus backed up, Syra was beginning to become hysterical.
John then grabbed Syra’s shoulders firmly, making direct contact between her eyes and his, “Syra, you’ll be fine, no one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I don’t want to leave your house, John, it’s the only place where I can be safe.”
Quickly deciding that he would not push the subject, Cyrus told the two that they could leave, but to talk to the secretary at the front desk. Once they left the room, Doerun stood at Cyrus’ side, “you think it was wise to let them go?”
“She’s my sister, I believe that she had nothing to do with those crimes. I mean, did you even see her? That was not the look of a woman who could decapitate someone.”
“I hope you’re right, Chief.” For a moment Rob was silent, “do you think it is a coincidence that this guys’ name is John?”
“I don’t know, but if this guy has been keeping my sister safe, then well, I won’t argue with it.” Doerun was not convinced. He could feel that something was not right with the situation. If only he could put his finger on it.
--
Acting was so troublesome to keep up, but when done well, it was quite useful. The pitiful girl Syra’s brother saw convinced him that she had nothing to do with the recent crimes. Asmodaios did his part well, but was a little over dramatic. She questioned whether grabbing her shoulders that way had really been necessary. She was beginning to suspect that devils were just as stupid and worthless as humans were. It was almost sad how easily humans dismissed things. Here she was, the one who had decapitated more than fifty lowlifes, and she was walking out of the most prestigious police station, accused of nothing.
Asmodaios was silent at Syra’s side, but she didn’t care, he was quickly becoming useless to her. The more he was around, the more annoyed Syra became. What was it about him that was so irritating? Not having the time to dwell on something so trivial, she stalked ahead of him, in search of another place they could hide out.
“He’s going to want to visit you, you know. I bet you he’ll come running out here, or find us later and ask us where I live so that he can visit. You’re his sister, Syra, his twin, he’s not just going to let you disappear again.” Her teeth ground together, she hated it when he was right. Her twin brother, that sentimental fool, he would want to know where she was living. That meant she could not completely hide.
It wasn’t a problem, Syra had thought ahead, there was an apartment that she had rented under another name. There was enough money both in that account and from what she had stolen that they could show him a simple living space. He would visit once, decide Syra was safe and healthy and then she could go back to work on getting to Mr. Mark Stein.
“It won’t be a problem, follow me, I’ll show you where we will be living for the next couple of days.” With her temper flaring, she stalked off, not waiting for him to follow.
As irritating as he was, she was glad that he kept pace with her so easily, it made it seem like he was the one leading her home. Unfortunately, it would have to seem like to everyone that she was distraught and not entirely connected to her body.
“I will warn you once more, if you continue like this, it will not end well for you. Revenge does nothing but blacken the heart beyond compare.” He gave Syra a side glance, keeping his actions inconspicuous.
She glared at nothing, “what would you know? You are a devil, you are supposed to be all about bloodshed and revenge.”
He frowned, and the expression confused Syra, “ego diversus sum, Syra. Just because I am a devil, does not mean I have to be stereotypical. People are capable of being above stereotypes, as is any creature of this earth.”
She scoffed, “you aren’t exactly a creature of this earth, and what does that even mean?” she bit out.
He glared at her, unyielding to her temper, “I am different, and maybe not now, but I used to be.” Had her patience not been shot, she might, might have asked what he meant by that. She did not know how devils came to be, and it did make her curious, but she was in no mood to question.
Growling, she quickly realized he had only said that to spark her curiosity so he could talk her out of her revenge. Sneaky little b*****d, he underestimated just how much she observed. He wasn’t going to stop her lust for revenge with a cryptic statement.
“We should keep up appearances, let’s go to a café.” With no further conversation, they turned off of Hudson Avenue and made their way to a Starbucks.
--
He had wandered around the city for a half an hour after he realized he had not known where this John guy lived. His sister was alive, shaken and a little distraught, but she was well. Cyrus walked for a minute more, before he decided that he could no longer take the cold. Taking refuge in the nearby Starbucks, he rubbed his arms. A heavier coat would have benefitted him greatly.
A young waitress of about twenty-one, with long blond hair and hazel eyes walked up to him, “excuse me sir, can I help you?”
“Uh, yeah, I need decaf.”
“Right away, there is an open table over there next to that young couple.” Pointing in the general direction, he nodded his head and walked over to the table to await his coffee.
Cyrus was oblivious to the people around him as he cradled his head in his hands. How could he have been so stupid as to forget to ask John where he lived so he could visit his sister? His wife, Marina would have skinned him alive for forgetting something so important.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not particularly…”
|
