daemonium || larry stylinson

4.

Louis

Louis swallowed a mouth full of the water and his tongue burned. He screamed, throwing his arms and kicking for ground. The river felt as if it had no end and that scared Louis more.

"Hel-Help me!" He took in a deep breath before his body was dragged back in.

His limps began to tire and his eyesight was spotted. He didn't how much longer he could keep up the struggling. No one seemed as if they could hear him or they they were coming soon.

Louis let his body sink deeper, water gushing in his nose as he tried his best to hold his lips closed. Soon, he gave up on that too. He was dying, this is how he'd go. Rotting at the bottom of a river only to be found days later. Days where it matters no more, he's already gone.

He opened his eyes expecting to see a night light of some kind. The light of God calling him. Instead he saw nothing but black, before his mom floated in his vision. She looked at him panicked and turned away in a different direction.

Johanna Tomlinson strode along the uneven sidewalk. She pulled her pea coat closer to her neck, observing her surroundings. Two men to her right was talking in hushed tones with one another, their tones threatening. A woman pushed a cart filled to the brim with plastic bottles, clothes torn and face ashen.

It was what most people consider the "shady" part of Doncaster. Most people wouldn't dare step foot near it because of the bad reputation on the news. Johanna herself swore off coming around this part, but she was in desperate need for help and found someone who could help. Hopefully. Looking down at the paper in her hands, she tried to figure if this was the right place. 666 Crestville Blvd. She had reached her destination.

At this address sat a run down building, a graffiti snake painted on the side. MICKS MAGIC SHOP, read the wooden sign swinging from chains outside the store. From the outside it looked as if the tiny shop was closed. The lights where off, an open sign presented outside the window, unlit, and the hours read from 9:00am-10pm. It was well after 11:00 o'clock.

The man she'd spoken to on the phone told her to come at this time. But why would he advise her to do such a thing if it was past closing time? She sighed feeling all hope drain from her body. Just as she went to turn back a man appeared behind her.

Johanna jumped in fright at his features, her hand clutching her beating heart. The old man was hunched over, his face wrinkled and covered in bumps. He smiled, amused, teeth the color of tar.

"You must be Johanna Tomlinson. I'm Mickey." He held his hand out, but Johanna politely declined.

"It's closed, th-the shop. Why couldn't I have come during the day?" She questioned keeping a safe distance from the man.

He gave her a crooked smile. "Because these kind of sessions are after hours."

Johanna tensed. "I think I'll be on my way. I'm not sure you can help me with what I need." She started to walk away wanting to get out of the neighborhood. Away from the man, everything just didn't seem right to her.

"Johanna Tomlinson. I can help you, just come inside." The man called after her.

Desperate, she turned back standing and waiting for the door to open. The old man turned the key and the locked snapped open. "Follow me to the back room."