Detroit, Michigan 1992
The bride left me at the alter, all I’m left with is a bitter taste in my mouth.
Three hours have passed since my last confession, all the while Albert Zerstoiten has been the topic of conversation. A name synonymous with death and destruction.
The detective in me attempts to put the pieces together, but the realist knows that the pieces are scattered… scattered to far and wide for even the most observant to notice.
“Kinda late for a stroll ain’t it?”
A serpent slithers behind me.
“Looks t’ me like you' lost.”
I turn to face my accuser. He isn’t much to look at, street punk with delusions of grandeur, eyes that look in every direction at the same time. Drugs, Insanity… I don’t care.
“You the shy an' silent type? I like that, but you’ scream…”
Steel catches moonlight, the faint smell of blood mixes in with the night air.
“… dey all scream.”
He lunges forward like a clumsy ox on steroids. His momentum carries him towards me like a freight-train. I wait patiently, watching the world slow down around me as I count his footsteps… his blade is moments away from impact, I take a step to the left. Such a simple maneuver and yet so affective, he gets caught off balance, almost running into a wall… I help him along.
A volcano erupts from where his nose used to be, the knife falls, chiming out alarm bells for all to hear. He reaches up to stem the tide of blood, I pull his arm up round his back. The pop signals the end of tonight's performance, his screams are the encore.
He fades to black, meeting the floor as he does. I consider carrying him to the station, but quickly reconsider, already had one body stolen from me tonight.
I turn to face the wind and head west to Sal’s Diner, its easier to clear your head with a fresh cup o coffee keeping you company.
I’m two blocks from the diner when I see it, looks almost like an angel… but this one carries a pitch fork. I dive behind a wall, gathering grime as I do, even the streets are dirty.
The realist in me listens to the detective this time… it can’t be a coincidence, this must be the same creature that stole the bride.
The winged demon lands, smelling the air as it does. A moment passes, its ears scan the surrounding area. Then scale turns to skin, horn to hair… until the demon is no more, only a man remains. He adjusts his suit and heads into a building directly opposite.
I wait till he’s inside then head there myself, the sign above the building brings a slight smile to my face, Hinderman and Wolfe associates… lawyers. The demon didn’t change into a man… just a suit.
to be continued…
The bride left me at the alter, all I’m left with is a bitter taste in my mouth.
Three hours have passed since my last confession, all the while Albert Zerstoiten has been the topic of conversation. A name synonymous with death and destruction.
The detective in me attempts to put the pieces together, but the realist knows that the pieces are scattered… scattered to far and wide for even the most observant to notice.
“Kinda late for a stroll ain’t it?”
A serpent slithers behind me.
“Looks t’ me like you' lost.”
I turn to face my accuser. He isn’t much to look at, street punk with delusions of grandeur, eyes that look in every direction at the same time. Drugs, Insanity… I don’t care.
“You the shy an' silent type? I like that, but you’ scream…”
Steel catches moonlight, the faint smell of blood mixes in with the night air.
“… dey all scream.”
He lunges forward like a clumsy ox on steroids. His momentum carries him towards me like a freight-train. I wait patiently, watching the world slow down around me as I count his footsteps… his blade is moments away from impact, I take a step to the left. Such a simple maneuver and yet so affective, he gets caught off balance, almost running into a wall… I help him along.
A volcano erupts from where his nose used to be, the knife falls, chiming out alarm bells for all to hear. He reaches up to stem the tide of blood, I pull his arm up round his back. The pop signals the end of tonight's performance, his screams are the encore.
He fades to black, meeting the floor as he does. I consider carrying him to the station, but quickly reconsider, already had one body stolen from me tonight.
I turn to face the wind and head west to Sal’s Diner, its easier to clear your head with a fresh cup o coffee keeping you company.
I’m two blocks from the diner when I see it, looks almost like an angel… but this one carries a pitch fork. I dive behind a wall, gathering grime as I do, even the streets are dirty.
The realist in me listens to the detective this time… it can’t be a coincidence, this must be the same creature that stole the bride.
The winged demon lands, smelling the air as it does. A moment passes, its ears scan the surrounding area. Then scale turns to skin, horn to hair… until the demon is no more, only a man remains. He adjusts his suit and heads into a building directly opposite.
I wait till he’s inside then head there myself, the sign above the building brings a slight smile to my face, Hinderman and Wolfe associates… lawyers. The demon didn’t change into a man… just a suit.
to be continued…
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