#Devil London EastEnd RiverThames ASpiritAway Fiction Story Thriller Horror

[marieschunne]

A Spirit Away

Chapter One: Deal with the Devil

November 19, 1948

Death was not a rarity among the East End lowlives. But on that November night in which the candles refused to flicker long enough for the poor souls crying for help, one particular tragedy remained a mystery forevermore. It was what everyone could talk about—the details of the deaths, the clues they managed to extract from tongues wagging around the neighborhood. Some even made up stories that were too odd to be true regarding that night for the more mystery, the better.

Truth be told, no one knew exactly how it happened. A woman living at the edge of East End, nearest to the River Thames, claimed she saw shadows running rampant on the streets when she had been up that night to pour herself a cup of water. Another claimed they heard a gunshot… only, everybody heard it as they all had rushed out to the streets to find what had caused the commotion that sent East End into a blasted echo of doom. Those who had time to look at the faces of the poor victims before they were whisked away by the police instantly became the most popular in half of London as journalists seek for them and offered to write a piece filled with their quotes.

What happened that night was a tragedy. It was a result of the sins as they exploded in the air, invisible wisps of its dark elements dancing in the winds. Though the deaths compelled the sins, only a few people knew of the latter. The victims were very respectable in society, they had been so near on climbing the social status towards the upper class when they had been in the middle all their lives. What were these sins that blew out their souls like a strong gust of wind over a flickering hearth?

It was the Devil’s deed, truly. He had chased Parker and Michelle Quinn to the filthiest corner of London with his handsome mask and his crisp suit, as though he was simply a well-dressed businessman and not at all a creature of hell. They weren’t silent either—the Quinns had been screaming as they tried to get away from the creature, begging for their lives and his mercy. But the Devil doesn’t give mercy just as he never cared for kind, humble souls. Perhaps the winds had been prejudiced against the Quinns, for they muted out the screams from the sharp ears of the neighborhood.

The Devil’s strides were somewhat lazy yet fast-paced nevertheless as he descended upon the Quinns, cocking his head aside to reveal his trademark smile. There was something naughty or rather amusing about his smile. It either taunts you or scares you to oblivion. “You have nowhere else to go, Quinns,” he’d drawled, his voice deep and smooth as the velvet night. “You made a deal… many moons ago. You signed a contract. Now, pay me a soul!”

“There was no deal!” Parker Quinn’s voice tore the winds, edged as the shattering glass. “We signed up for nothing!”

It was expected for the Devil to be upset about such lies but instead, his smile grew wider. The Devil loved it when human lies… it was one of the things he could savor like a piece of jarring music. “Are you denying now the fact that both of you had been desperate at all?”

But the wife knew better. Michelle Quinn cowered behind her husband as her arms curled tightly around the baby in her arms. The baby was the one thing that was honest about her, despite every inch of her skin bedecked with the most precious of jewels. She pleaded, “Please! We promise we’ll give you your end of the bargain—simply give us some time, and we’ll be certain!”

“Oh, I see,” he said, sounding more curious than normal. “Have you ever heard the French proverb… les bons comptes font les bons amis? I picked it off a wise, wise man on my old days back in Paris. Of course,” he lets out a dry chuckle, the sound much like a mallet hitting stone, “he didn't have time to translate it before I had his head severed off his shoulders. I figured what it meant not long later and I quite liked it.”

The Quinns didn't answer as they continued to back away, even though they had nowhere else to go as the end of the street was bricked high with a wall fit for a rook’s built. At last, they found their backs hitting contact with it, their eyes widened as it a wave of agony and fear blazed in the whites under the furious batting of their lashes.

“A debt paid is a kept friend was what the words translated,” the Devil explained, as though he was a schoolchildren teacher trying to coax the scared younger ones. “Just give me the child because I don't have all night, Quinns.”

“Don’t let him take our child,” Michelle sobbed in Parker’s ear, hugging the silent bundle tighter against her chest. Then she shrieked at the Devil, “Why should we pay a deal forger who took away what was promised in the first place?”

“Touché,” the Devil considered this. But of course, there was nothing in all eternity that could sway him from his wish. It was more of a show, as the world was always a performance to him. “I promised you I would grant the favor you asked for… I never said you could keep it.”

“Let’s solve this—you and me,” Parker stepped forward, gathering what was left of his courage as he covered his family’s body with his own. “We’ll find a way, another child to sacrifice in our daughter’s stead.”

“So now you are taking innocent lives, yeah?” The Devil laughed, full of mirth and amusement. “And they always blamed sins on me.”

But Parker had made his choice. He quickly turned in his spot and pulled Michelle in his arms, muttering quickly, “Go. Bring Ivy and run. Take her to safety… for both of our sakes. Don’t look back, Michelle. For the love of Gods, don’t look back.”

A beat passed. At last, Michelle gave her husband the barest of nods. The Devil was still laughing—he thought the scene was most amusing in the last few decades that once he started to laugh, it was hard for him to stop. Parker whirled at the creature again, feeling newfound bravery coursing in his veins.

“It’s always the same with Adam’s children!” The Devil howled, clutching his chest as he doubled over. “You are weak creatures. You never learn.”

“We are not weak,” Parker forced out. From the corners of his eyes, he watched Michelle carefully slip into the darkness, where the Devil didn't bother to spare a glance.

The Devil stopped laughing. His fathomless red eyes bored into Parker’s, a wave of familiar anger threatening to rise. “You think you can beat me, mortal?” He growled, pulling up a slim, shining object from the inside of his crisp coat.

It was a gun. Parker would recognize the object anywhere—he had been a fan of many movies consisting of gun props. But to see an immortal creature, much less a creature of hell to wield such a mundane weapon… he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

They all heard the bullet click into place, like a bell of doom pounding against their eardrums. “Just give me the child, mortals. I do not fancy attracting a crowd.”

“Over my dead body!” Parker shouted, charging at the Devil like a bull.

But the Devil had been made from fire, flickering embers of infinite. He was much too quick for a mere mortal as he raised the gun and pulled the trigger. “That can be arranged,” the words had barely escaped the Devil’s lips as Parker’s eyes widened with shock, not quite registering the bloody wound blooming on his chest.

Meanwhile, Michelle, who had seen the scene unfold and had held back her screams was rocking the baby back and forth on the ground, hidden by the walls of a staircase of a nearby building. She had to cup her mouth to stifle her sobs, her fear worse than ever. Despite her faults and her unhealthy obsession with luxury, she had loved her husband very much. It was what made her place the baby carefully at the top of the staircase without a second thought, only that she had to save her husband.

Leaning down, Michelle’s gloved hands found the silver pendant around her neck—the only family heirloom that her middle-class family had passed down for centuries. It was carved into the shape of a phoenix, a reminder that no matter what happened, a strong spirit would always rise from the ashes.

She now clasped the pendant around the sleeping baby’s neck, somehow untroubled by the commotion. Michelle only had time to kiss the baby on the forehead before stepping out of the darkness, back into the dangerous sight of the hell incarnate.

“Ah, there you are,” sighed the Devil, “I was worried I would have to kill all of your look-alikes to simply have my revenge against you lot. You’ve seen what happened to your husband for his disagreement. Now, just hand me the child and get this over with.”

Her voice was shaky at best as she shrieked, “I will never let you anywhere near my daughter!”

For a split second, the universe seemed to come to a pause. Death has always had a great fear effect on any mortals… so why isn’t it affecting this one? Though amused, the creature of hell has no time for their games. He simply rolled his eyes, cocked the bullet back into place, and shoots.

This time, the winds seem to unmute. The whole neighborhood heard the last gunshot, waking them up from the safe confinements of their beds and under the many layers of their blankets. They weren’t exactly the most unfortunate lot, but it had been a cold winter, and sleep couldn’t be much bothered with all the cold biting into their skin.

They scrambled off their mattresses and looked out their windows. People spilled into the streets to discover the most tragic scene of the couple’s deaths—and yet, with no trace of the criminal insight.

It was midnight in the east of London. There were no twinkling lights, only the horror unfolding before their very own eyes.