Demon's Exchange

January 26, 2014
By CrashBagPhoto SILVER, Amston, Connecticut
CrashBagPhoto SILVER, Amston, Connecticut
8 articles 0 photos 10 comments

Favorite Quote:
Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing's going to get better. It's not. -- Dr. Seuss

Hidden behind the throbbing sea of swinging hips and heads bobbing in time to the heavy bass that shook the floor was a figure. A tall, imposing figure, slouched against the wall, a lollipop hanging out of his mouth. The man breathed in deeply, the scent of sweat and adrenaline coursing through mortal veins assaulting his nostrils, bringing with it the harsh metallic pang of longing, longing to feel the warm flesh sealed away under the mortal’s skin slowly giving way to the cold stillness of death beneath his grip.
He licked his lips; beginning to slink through the crowd to the exit, the flashing lights turning his white hair into a mosaic of shimmering flashes of color dancing about his head. He was not here for recreation, though, not here for the worthless worms writhing against each other, drowning their delicious sorrows in the foul beverage that littered the sticky ground.
“Took you long enough,” grunted a fellow, who remained hidden in the shadows across from the club. Lights spilt out through the door, slicing through the dark, disappearing as they stroked the edges of the confrontation. The too tall man shrugged, not moving from the doorway. .
“Did you bring what I asked for?” The demon buried in the shadows inquired, creeping closer and closer to the edges of its tent of darkness. The white haired man pulled a small box out of his trench coat pocket, twirling it around in the air above his hand.
“Did you bring what I asked for?” The man asked, voice identical to the black mass. In response, a chest shot out from the depths. The man knelt down, opening the chest and plucking an item from its confines. With a skill that only comes from years of experience, the man used one hand to unpeel the wrapper and flicked the candy into his mouth.
Eyelids closed over empty sockets behind the concealing lenses of dark sunglasses as the man moaned in delight, the taste of terror, pure and true, dancing over his tongue followed by the buzz of sugar rushing through his veins.
“Gimme, gimmee!” the mass cried, shadows clawing at the man’s torso. The man tossed the intricately carved box into the depths, turned and left, heavily laden chest tucked securely under one arm.
A flash of light blinded any who dared look into the alleyway, illuminating a blob of gangrene-covered flesh, its blackened maw slurping down the light with a flick of an oozing tongue.
The tall man strode through the crowd, lit alive by sporadic strobe lights, easily this time, dropping his glamour and revealing the demon beneath.
He left as the final screams of a dying soul resonated in the night, matching the agonizing flavor of pain that set the demon’s mouth aflame with need. Need for more, more of the emotionally tied candy, candy that quenched the demon’s thirst, thirst for the pure feelings of mortals, mortals whose lives paid for the emotionally tied candy, candy that quenched the demon’s thirst…

The author's comments:
I wrote this piece at a summer camp that changed my life. It holds great memories, and I decided to share some of those memories with everyone here! Enjoy!

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