Demon Stories

Violette: Tied, 1999, Japan

Violette

Tied

1999, Japan

Lying on the grey brick road, he looked like a heavy corpse. Crouched down, up close he looked light and tender. His smell, however, told a different story. And I knew he could smell me, too. Slow, careful breathing became apparent from him, confirming this assumption.

I had found another creature like me. In this modern era, there are many creatures like us. However, on this particular night, with this one, somehow this smell magnetized me to him. An instant attraction.

Sitting next to him for a long time as he slept, I stared at him. His long, straight black hair was thick but light looking, as if the wind would delight in playing with it if he took flight. Small strips of blonde were interspersed delicately in places, like how the feathers of a bird's color changes. His ears were heavily pierced, and from how his face was rolled to the right slightly, I could see two tiny hoops on his eyebrow and a skinny silver one on his lower lip. He was dressed for the times, and terribly slim. He wore black lace gloves, a long leather coat, a proper looking expensive dark purple button down silk shirt, and slender black leather pants. 

Intrigued, I went to touch his hand. Immediately his hand snapped upwards and caught my wrist, so tightly it almost hurt. Heavy silver rings bit into my skin, leaving quick bruises. His nose twitched and slowly, lazily, his eyes opened. They were an elegant, royal dark blue color, already looking in my direction sharply as they opened. 

"Are you a puppy?" I asked.

"No, little bit," he whispered in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Want to have fun?"

"No, little one."

"Did you eat already?"

"Yeah."

"Too much?"

"Yeah..."

"No wonder the puppy is so sleepy," I smiled, petting his hair. It was the silkiest, slipperiest thing I had ever touched. 

He rolled his eyes in annoyance and closed them once more. His breathing became slowed, and began snoring ever so slightly. 

"Why are you sleeping here?" I asked.

Out came a long breath. "Can't move," he slurred full of sleep.

"Where is your party?" 

Heavily he raised an arm a tiny bit off the ground and pointed behind me at a dark alley before flopping it down still outstretched. I breathed deeply and could smell the odor of meat. Ah there. Perhaps it had been a young woman. The smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer told the story. 

"You should not drink altered blood."

"Sure..." he slurred.

Then I realized.

"You like drinking drunk people, don't you. You like getting drunk."

He didn't respond. It became apparent that he'd decided to ignore me like a horse eventually ignores flies. 

I stretched my hands on his back. It was surprisingly soft for someone who looked so fit. "You can't sleep here," I said. 

No response. Just the slow breathing of sleep again.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and heaved him up. He flopped like a dead body, unhelpful, no longer asleep but uncaring. Like this, I dragged him to the nearest place of patronage. A gaudy place with a large neon sign and peeling wallpaper. I robbed him and paid for his room. There I dumped him on an orange bed. 

Turning to leave, I suddenly felt a tug on the bow around my middle. It was his gloved hand. His breathing was one of sleep, but he was not asleep. I stood there like this for a long time, then gently pried loose his fingers. I crouched on the floor, staring at him. 

How strange it was, this feeling. This attachment feeling. It was unshakable, yet from nowhere and from everywhere at the same time. From deep within my soul. A feeling which said there was a connection far beyond one of belonging to the same race of being. And something told me he had felt it, too. Something of which made him grab me to prevent me from leaving like that. 

His smell was familiar. The most familiar smell to me. But from where? I could not figure it out. 

And then.

"...You know it to be true..." he whispered, muffled by the blankets near his mouth, "...sister..."

My eyes widened. I fell on my bottom and stared at him. And then it became readily and creepily apparent. His cheek bones, his facial structure. His slender softness. It was all like mine. I had had no brothers or sisters, but what he said was true. We were related. We were one.

He opened his eyes halfway and smiled gently. "Your smell is my smell, little one. I smelled you and searched for you, but you were always moving. How strange it is for when I am not searching you find me."

It was too much. On this normal cold night, nothing was supposed to happen. And here the strangest thing of all weird things had happened. 

A brother. I had found a brother. Staring wide eyed at him as his fell asleep again, I felt another weird feeling. An awful feeling. 

The past had caught up with me. And I could never truly get away.