Demonic

Chapter 18

He seems fine so I turn to leave when he lets out a strangled noise. The human grabs his shirt, hands clenching with pain.

Choking noises erupt from his throat like a volcano, sweat dribbling down his greying face in beads. Mouth agape, he scratches his chest, clawing at it like a wild tiger does to a cage.

My eyes widen. Is this what a heart attack looks like?

Concrete slams into my knees as I drop next to him. I place my hands on his shoulders, clueless as to how I can help. Demons don't have beating hearts so things like this aren't really a problem.

His muscles spasm. I grab out the phone. Hitting the call button, I go to ring the ambulance...

Until I realise I don't know the number.

Being human is hard.

They're such fragile creatures. A second is all it takes for something to fail and bring them to their knees, begging for air and clinging to life. Humans are like circuit boards. One faulty wire and it's all over.

My mind is telling me to leave the man. I don't care. He's not my problem and he's going to heaven anyway. Reasoning and rationality wail against the sides of my head, demanding I leave him be. I'm a demon, therefore I should not care what happens. It's natural for these things to occur.

But something grounds me here, holding me in place with a firm grip.

"Hey!"

A couple pushing a pram stop at the sound of my shout. They look down the alleyway only see me crouched over a half dead man. Like its second nature, the woman bee lines my way, ditching the pram with her husband.

"Dear God," she says.

She lashes out a phone and punctures in a number, what I'm assuming, is the emergency services. Kneeling down near me, she bombs the man with questions and lightly slaps him on the face to keep him conscious.

He looks like he's in good hands so I leave, silently edging away before she asks me anything. Still reeling from how fast things just went, I nod to the husband as I pass.

As I step out of the alley the sun beats my eyes. It feels like they are burning out of my fucking skull, and I praise the sunglasses. Without them my eyes would be shrivelled sultanas.

I huff. That little event did nothing to lighten my spirits. The dream still lingers, a smog that refuses to clear. It sticks to me, no matter how hard I try to scrape it off like an annoying piece of gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. Every time the memory comes back, my heart seems to sink a little further.

Without his familiar presence all I can assemble is emptiness. I try to climb out of this hole I've been thrown into yet I always lose my grip, falling deeper down. I grasp my jacket tighter and not because it's cold.

The human. Why did I help that human? I should have left him. He was not my concern nor my problem. It nags at me, pulling and scratching. Assisting others has never been in my nature. Causing havoc and creating devastation is a normal trait for my species but helping? It is unheard of. As to why I did it bugs me and what scares me most is that it wasn't the first time I've done something strange.

The boy at the graveyard still chases me. It seems like so long ago when Demtorious was still alive. I shake my head rapidly, trying to distinguish these thoughts and memories.

I think there's something wrong with me.

"Oi! Scarlet! Over here!"

My eyes flick up from the ground.