Her red knitted dress was perfect for the day, sunny but not especially warm, she teamed it with black tights and shoes and a leather jacket, before grabbing her bag and heading out to drive her aunt’s red mini. It wasn’t far and it wasn’t long before she was ordering a large hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows to go with the massive slice of orange fudge cake. She found the seat she wanted by the window in a deep brown leather chair with a small round table, perfect for one person. It discouraged anyone from joining her.
She sat cutting into the delicious looking cake. Three layers of orange fudge sponge cake with a fudge frosting filling, coated with orange frosting, and little curls of orange chocolate and fudge. It was decadent and over the top and perfect. She ate each bite with relish and interspersed bites with sips of the thick chocolaty goodness of her drink, getting cream on her nose and not caring who saw. She knew the young couple at the next table were watching her lick the plate clean, it seemed like a naughty little twist to her task.
She ordered a slice of the triple chocolate layer cake next, although not as large a slice, and a second hot chocolate. The waitress wandered back to the counter with a confused smile to place the order. She ate all of that too and had a third hot chocolate before deciding she’d had enough. But just to make it obvious she could have whatever she liked she bought a custard slice to take away.
She hoped she had done enough for the task because it hadn’t seemed that difficult. Perhaps they got harder as the game went on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: MAËL
The street outside was pitch black. As if they’d spent hours talking and drinking tea, but Mike had entered just before lunch time. How could it be night already?
He felt all turned around and unsure which way got him back to the main street. Turning right he walked beneath the leaning buildings, which seemed to get further apart as they neared a stone staircase, black railings on either side, splitting to curve around. The steps lead to another street. Not sure what he would find at the bottom, and with no memory of having climbed them on his way here, he began the descent. He could always retrace his steps.
It wasn’t like he was a human wandering around Demon streets late at night. A phenomenon that happened more often than the residents liked to admit. Alcohol had been known to break down the barriers for certain humans and they thought they’d found a shortcut home. Some remained here for the rest of their very short lives, whilst a lucky few made their way out again. Dazed and confused they would try to tell friends where they’d been. Describing again and again the old streets. Some drew them and others would try to bring police or friends to find them again. Something that would never happen whilst they were sober.
He’d once encountered a man who’d made his way back. The pressure of having to explain where he’d disappeared to for three days drove him to drink. Drunk and staggering he’d found another entrance and became exalted. It had been short lived. When he’d returned to the human world his family, thinking they were doing the best for him, had him committed. Mike didn’t hear whether he ever got out.
The streets were largely deserted. One or two dog walkers nodded to him as he walked along a canal. He was certain he knew which part of the human world it came out in. He followed it through streets; houses packed tightly together. Through shops and a street of iniquities. Brothels, bars, nightclubs, and strip clubs lined the bank of the canal, a dull red glow casting ugly shadows across the cobbles as he walked, head down. He now knew how much of a mistake it had been to come this way.
Temptation was everywhere.
‘Come and have a drink with us!’ a group of lower level Demons said.
‘Come inside and take a peek.’ A young-looking woman called from her cage on the front of a strip club. Red and black striped bodice to entice passers-by.
‘Two for one,’ called the doorman on the brothel. ‘How can you resist such an offer?’
Mike walked even faster. Swearing internally.
‘Come on,’ called a woman in the centre of a group of burly looking males. ‘You’ll have fun. We’ll have fun. You know you want to.’
She indicated for her friends to come and get him. Drag him in. She was laughing and calling and being as suggestive as she could be. The men seemed to grow bigger as they approached, puffing out their chests and holding out their muscled arms. Smiling, sort of.
‘I’m just trying to get home,’ Mike said as politely as he could.
‘Aw, are the pretty ladies too much for your delicate sensibilities?’ laughed one.
‘Hardly any dark in this one at all love,’ another called back to the woman.
‘Is he a stray human?’ she called back.
‘Let’s see.’ One reached for Mike, another reached for the bag.
‘Just leave me be. I’m not interested in your fun and games,’ he said, trying to move past them.
‘Oh come on, just a little bit of fun?’ the tallest got face to face with Mike and then all of a sudden, reared back. ‘No, let’s leave him. He’s not going to be any fun.’
‘What?’ another asked.
‘Just leave it, leave him, we’ll have some other kind of fun,’ he insisted stepping further away.
Mike smirked. He’d forgotten about that. He’d never known how it worked but on occasion, he could make an individual’s residual survival instinct kick in. It told them to get the fuck away from him as fast as they could. The group moved away. Huddled together, watching him as he walked on.
Turning the corner, he found the exit he’d known was at the end of the canal; unsurprisingly opening onto Canal Street. He took deep breaths of the fresh night air. It had rained on this side. And the air felt clear and light.
He hailed a cab. Maybe he could make it home before Joy. He checked the clock on the dash. There was time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: PURPLE
Task: Intercede in someone else’s argument, whether you know them or not, choose a side and defend it with passion and fury. It does not matter how silly or insignificant the argument is but by the time you are done it should be an all-out screaming match.
In an airport filled with frustrated passengers interceding in someone else’s argument should be easy, but it just wasn’t in her nature. She loitered by people complaining to airport staff, but no matter how close she got, all she managed to do was get a few weird looks. One guy was yelling so loud she felt sorry for the woman he was yelling at, but she just couldn’t make herself speak up.
Forced to give in, she concentrated on boarding her own flight. Maybe after a few hours’ kip she’d be able to manage the task at the other end. Trouble was she was seated near a family of five. Three kids under six, the youngest in diapers and, by the rosy cheeks and screams, teething.
She plugged herself into a movie and tried to drift off but the squirming kids just wouldn’t allow her to. She could have interceded and told the parents to give the kids what they wanted then maybe the rest of the passengers could get a bit of peace but the mother looked apologetic and embarrassed at having to deal with it at all so publicly. The father was trying his hardest to amuse the eldest two, but not even cartoons could hold their attention. Amanda wondered how the rest of their holiday had gone.
When they landed, she was so tired and achy from the flight she couldn’t bring herself to pay attention to anyone. Almost slipping, dashing to the taxi rank through sheets of rain, she was glad she’d be home in half an hour and able to curl up in bed.
Dumping her bags in the front hall and towelling off her hair she was grateful she’d changed the sheets before they left. Finding the warmest pyjamas, she could, she climbed into bed and tucked the duvet up to her chin. She was just beginning to drift off when a heated discussion about petunias filtered through her fuzzled brain.
She threw the duvet back, opened the window wide and yelled down to her neighbours.
‘He’s right, no one gives a shit about the colour of the bloody flowers.’
‘Oh,’ was all the
woman could manage. She’d never gotten to know her neighbours particularly well.
‘See,’ the bloke said. ‘Just plant them anywhere. It doesn’t need to be a rainbow.’
‘Right.’ The woman seemed dejected.
‘Although a rainbow would be cool,’ Amanda continued.
‘What?’ The bloke said.
‘That’s what I thought,’ the woman smiled.
‘I just want to get this done and go back inside out of the rain.’ There was a persistent drizzle falling.
‘Why are you planting in the rain?’ Amanda asked.
‘It’s the only day I have free,’ the woman replied
‘I said I would do it on the weekend.’
‘Yeah right.’ Amanda laughed
‘Fat chance,’ the woman smirked.
Then the bloke, accepting defeat, threw down the trowel and stormed back inside. ‘Fine. Do it yourself!’
‘I never asked for your help in the first place,’ the woman yelled after him.
Amanda smiled before pulling her head back in and closing the window. She wondered if that counted.
Task: That person who always must have everyone’s attention? Your task today is to steal their limelight, keep the attention on you all day.
She slept till 10 the following morning and mooched around in her pyjamas, eating cereal, while reading the next task. Well, it could only be referring to her ex but she had no idea how she was going to manage it. Until he knocked on the door.
‘What?’ She said.
‘Hey hun, can I come in so we can talk?’ he was doing his little boy ‘I’m so sorry’ smile. His mates smirking in the car behind him.
‘No.’
‘What? Look I was a bit of a dick on holiday, you know I love you really. That girl meant nothing to me and she was a bit of a slut anyway. Me an’ you got history. We’re meant to be together.’
‘Yeah. You tell her mate,’ one of the lads in the car called. ‘He wants you back sweetheart, says you were the best he ever had.’
‘Shut up!’ he yelled at them.
‘Tough.’ Amanda went to close the door.
He stuck his foot in the way.
‘Please ’manda. It was all a stupid mistake. I love you. Only you.’
‘Erm let me think about it.’ She paused. ‘No.’
‘Why are you being like this?’
‘Why am I being like this? You went off with some girl you met whilst we were on holiday together. Your mates weren’t even meant to be there. But I’m super grateful ’cause after you fucked off I had a great time. Met some real nice people. And had actual fun.’ Okay, maybe she was losing her temper a little bit.
‘I’m glad you had a good time. Let’s leave all the bad stuff on holiday, right? Then we can get back to how we were.’
‘What, me doing all your washing and cleaning, working to pay for my flat and all the bills, whilst you slob around, work when you feel like it and spend any money you do get on nights out, take away and video games?’ she tried again to close the door but the stupid idiot wouldn’t move his foot.
‘I live here too. You can’t shut me out. All my stuff is in there.’ He was pushing on the door now.
‘Fine, wait out there and let me get dressed,’ she said, grateful when he moved his foot so she could shut the door.
‘Stupid twit,’ she muttered as she made her way upstairs.
Grabbing armfuls of his clothes she carried them to the window. Whilst he was down below making weird gestures to his mates she assumed meant ‘look how easy it was to get her back, I’m in there, blah blah, boy speak’ she dumped the clothes out the window onto his head.
‘What the fuck?’ he screamed up at her but she dumped a second lot and paused to snap a pic for Facebook.
Status: Returned from a great holiday without dick head fiancé. Total waste of time he was. Turned up to claim me back, despite cheating repeatedly. Instead, I gave him his stuff back. Pic attached.
Amanda’s mate across the street must have just been checking her Facebook. Because two minutes later she was leaning out of her window yelling ‘Loser!’ and taking her own pics.
‘Now fuck off, you useless dick,’ Amanda yelled, maybe getting more attention than she intended.
‘What about my PlayStation?’ he yelled back.
‘You want me to dump that out the window?’ Amanda asked.
‘No, just bring it to the door.’
‘No. The PlayStation is mine, I paid for it.’ She closed the window, ignoring whatever he was yelling back.
Checking her post she found a bunch of her friends cheering her on, suggesting things she should do to his stuff. Others, mostly his friends, were telling her how stupid she was being. But it was all attention on her rather than him so she let them get on with it. Giving more details of what he’d done whilst they were away, until even his friends were starting to sympathise.
She had no intention of going out, despite requests to meet up and get drunk to help her get over it. She was just too tired. Something about the whole situation made her want to make her life better than it had been. She’d dated the same kinds of guys forever and it never worked out. She had a sudden urge to move her whole life and decided to sort out her CV and apply for jobs in other parts of the country, maybe even other countries. She wouldn’t mind working abroad for a year or two.
The phone rang early the following morning and she half expected it to be her ex.
‘I’m looking to speak to Amanda Higgins,’ an accented woman’s voice said.
‘Speaking.’ She rubbed her eyes and looked at the alarm clock. It was only 7 am.
‘We received your CV this morning and we’re very interested in interviewing you for the position. Your experiences would fit perfectly with our business,’ the woman said.
‘Sorry, where are you?’
‘Moscow.’ She could hear her smiling.
Amanda sat up and paid attention.
‘Oh yes of course.’
‘We’d like to interview you via Skype tomorrow afternoon if possible.’
‘Certainly.’
‘I’d just like to ask you a few questions to make sure we have all the right information and answer any basic questions you might have about the position.’
They spent the next hour on the phone. Amanda squealed with excitement. They would pay for flights and provide accommodation. An hour later she got another phone call, from another company interested in interviewing her for a kids’ camp and adventure centre. She kept putting updates on Facebook. Desperate for a new start and sure it was down to the book.
Listing things she was getting rid of, for sale on Facebook, she told them her plans and that she was selling stuff to make money to renew her wardrobe in whatever part of the world she ended up. By the end of the day half of the things she’d listed had gone. Three of her best girlfriends were fighting over her favourite shoes, as she knew they would. And she was getting closer to her new wardrobe goals.
The next day she got offered the job in Moscow and was asked to fly out the following week. It wasn’t until midday that one friend broached the subject of her Pandora bracelet. Another suggested it might fetch the most and made an offer for it. Before she’d even agreed to sell there was a bidding war for her long coveted bracelet.
As she was watching the computer screen drama unfold she heard a strange noise. Like a crackling, throaty noise. Somewhere from above, somewhere behind. She could hear it so loudly that a small scream tried to escape her mouth. Trying to ask who was there not one single noise passed her lips and she tried hard to remember the last time she spoke out loud. The interview, or the little happy song she sang afterwards, but beyond that she didn’t remember.
A rhythmic tapping noise caused her to look up as the creature spread its wings. The air darkening, the leathery sound filling her ears as if that one sense were heightened.
She couldn’t scream for help.
Its long tongue snaked out, tasting the air.
The creature loomed above her, reaching down with long fingers. Reaching inside her chest. She screamed silently in pain, in fear, for help. The light that came out of her chest blinded her. It was so bright. An elongated face looked up at her as if she’d betrayed it and began screaming as well, its voice high and clear. Its eyes wide in pain.
Further and further the creature pulled as tears streamed down Amanda’s face. She felt cold, like someone was emptying her of all good. By the time her soul was removed, and the creature had taken its rather sudden leave, she was exhausted.
She lay where she was. Her house cold, frosty even, the rain suddenly beating at the window. Feeling alone and empty. She had no idea how she’d failed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: MAËL
He was just rinsing off the last of the sulphur when he heard the front door open.
‘Babe, where are you?’ Joy called, despite the late hour.
‘In the shower,’ he called back.
‘Ok, I’m going to make a drink do you want one?’
‘I’d love a coffee,’ he called, making sure all the sulphur had gone down the drain. Catching sight of the necklace in the mirror. He took it off with great care and hung it on the edge of the frame. He didn’t need to wear it all the time, only when he was going into Demon territory. He wondered what the girl would ask for in return as he pulled on his grey PJs.
The Soul Game Page 8