4 One After Another (2/2)
He said it as if all the fault was on me. And maybe it is—I thought as my mind made a quick visit to the memory of that night and my eyes made a quick glance at the covered up portrait. I felt bad. I should not have looked at him. I should not be there on that day!
I sighed. ”Fine. What do you want me to do?”
”There's nothing we can do. I'll just have to do my duty.” said Dylan. He was clearly upset.
Guilt rushed up in me all of a sudden. ”Will this contract ever—expire?”
”Well…actually…yes.”
”How? When?” I leapt closer to the demon, instantly felt excited at the potential solution for both of us.
”Well, when you make a request, I will grant it but—” he seemed reluctant, ”demons don't serve you for free. We do it for your souls. After working for you, we'll be exhausted, so we need your soul to refill our power.”
”My soul?”
Dylan nodded. ”Demons gain power by consuming human's soul.”
And I'd die!
Wasn't it all the same! After investing so much energy on stalking this guy, became happy for a short moment thinking that I did not have to die because it was not a curse. No, this is a curse! It curses me to be this demon's master, and I'll have to die in the end anyway!
Depressed, I plunged down into the gloom when, almost immediately, a light bulb lighted my murky head up.
What if I never make a request—? This was an interesting proposal from the light bulb, since I had never really made any request—or even talk—to Dylan since I had come to know his face. I, in fact, do not need to make any request to him or ask for his help. The splendid knowledge shone bright light of hope all over my world. I will not have to die! He cannot take my soul because he hasn't done a thing for me!
”What's this?”
Dylan was pulling off the walnut patterned cloth on the portrait as I was about to jump with glee. I veered my jump at him and knocked him down. Glossy and soft black feathers from his wing got into my mouth and eyes as I did. My stationary box on the easel was smashed and a cutter and scissors fell out. I was not in a good position staying under him and rode toward the sharp edges of them.
Dylan caught both my arms and turned me upside. I ended up lying on him.
”S—sorry. I—I didn't ask you to help—” I quickly got up but there was something wet on my hand. I looked down on the floor and saw a small pool of clear water.
”What's this?” I rubbed them on my jeans.
Dylan sat up wincing. He took the left wing which was weirdly wet and flipped it back. The cutter was sticking there, straight and sharp, with clear liquid spurting from the spot flowing down in a mite stream.
”Don't tell me it's your blood!”
Dylan nodded.
”Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” I scurried down stair and came back up with a first aid. Dylan was groaning. He had already taken the cutter out. I did not know how to bandage the wing. So I just put a plaster on there but it fell off.
”It's all right.” The demon said with a smile. His voice was still sweet and soft. And he looked at me so kindly that I was briefly embarrassed by those sparkling eyes. ”Thank you.”
”Are you gonna be okay?”
He laughed. ”Don't worry. I'm a demon! Small wounds don't budge me.”
I relaxed but smeared more antiseptic onto the wound just in case, when Dylan chuckled.
”I like this.” he said fetching me to where he was looking. My face went crimson red seeing my painting fully exposed. ”Is it me?” He asked.
”Ye—I mean Yo! No. No! It's not you!”
He seemed skeptical. ”There can't be anybody else with black wings. And that hair, those eyes…it has to be me.”
”No, no, not you! It's just a person with wings!”
”Which is me.”
”No! It's someone I know.” Aaaaargh! No!
”Which is me.”
”No! It's my imaginary friend!”
”Hmm?” Dylan smiled naughtily and leaned on the painting. ”You imagine that I am your friend?”
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!
”I can be your friend.” He said friendlily.
One after another—things went WRONG!