Angel of Demons

Surprise! Surprise!

“Yes. I want you to take me back to the past. In return, I’ll give you Gideon as a bargain. You can do whatever you want with him. He’s useless and an i***t. I can’t stand him. Besides, I already have this magical weapon,” I said before pausing. “Great! Yeah, it’s a deal.”

I entered the room, and my eyes went wide to see Gideon. He was standing at the door, crossing his “arms.” I suspected he heard my conversation with Riley by the looks in his face. His eyes seethed with anger with his tail up, and he was hissing the whole time. 

***

I laughed out loud as Gideon stared at me. His hands were holding the roasted lamb while watching me laughing to my heart’s content. The night was quiet, but my laughter seemed to be louder than the deafening sound of silence and awkwardness. Sitting down and serving myself another bowl of pasta, I was literally feasting on making fun of him.

“You sound like a hyena, you know that?” he said, breaking the stillness between us.

“And you really believed me on that? I never knew you are so good at keeping memories, kitty cat!” I said in between laughter. “I was just pretending! Ah . . . role playing. I pretended to be talking to Riley and intentionally let you hear it because you were so stubborn, you i***t. I was telling you to change your vessel, and you just won’t !” I said.

“Whatever,” he said as he continued his meal heartily. “And you gotta give me a new wine. You spilled it on the floor with your erratic behavior.”

“Excuse me?”

“You're bipolar! Lunatic! You have an angel with you who doesn’t even talk to me, and all I see is your split personality talking like I want this, no! I don’t want this! Do it! No, don’t do that! Come on, man. I’m not a psychiatrist. I am not a slave. I am an angel!”

“Oh stop whining, you idiot.”

“Will you please stop calling me an i***t? I am hungry and angry. Do you know how much power I use every time this magical light comes out from my wings? It’s like my whole life was stripped off. I cannot use my sword because let me tell you Mister and Miss, I turned it into a pistol for you . . . both of you . . . to use against those ugly demons just because you are powerless.”

“Then turn it back into a sword, and I’ll use it instead of that stupid pistol!”

“And who am I talking to?”

“What do you mean? Do I need to introduce myself to you every time I speak to your feline body?”

“Yes! Why not?”

“You’re an angel, Giddy. I thought you have a gift of discernment. Why don’t you use that?”

“Oh . . . you just called me ‘Giddy.’ Is that you . . . Micca? Tell me, is that you?”

“Oh yeah, of course buddy! How couldn’t you recognize me?”

“Micca! My friend!” Gideon jumped towards me and licked my face. “Meow!”

“F—ck off! You i***t!” I threw him against the wall. 

His body slammed so hard his voice croaked like a frog. His tongue stuck out of his mouth as his body slid on the floor with his exposed belly.

“Almighty heavens, I really wanna go home,” he muttered.

***

“Welcome to my shop, how can I help you?” Greg said with a smile.

The man in a black suit did not answer. He took off his hat and walked confidently towards the counter.

“Yes? We have our newest arrivals, sir. Come, take a look.” 

The man cleared his throat and handed a photo.

“Have you seen this girl?”

Greg looked at the photo and was shocked to see me in it but gave a poker face. He was actually shaking in fear.

“Oh, ahm . . . I don’t think so sir. I have just opened the shop. In fact, you are our first customer. We have the latest SAR 109T, and I can give it to you absolutely free!” he said before giving an awkward smile.

The man smiled back.

“Hmmm . . . sounds like a good deal.”

“Yeah . . . it is . . . a good deal . . .”

The man took a deep breath and looked around the shop. Glancing at a cabinet next to him, his hands were itching to open the drawer. While his visitor was taking time to examine the various weapons on the shelves, he took the chance to slowly reach for the drawer with his eyes on the man.

“I love your shop. It’s a combination of classic and latest variety,” the man said.

Greg stopped his attempt, thinking he might get caught.

“Ah . . thank you sir,” Greg answered awkwardly before giving a fake smile.

“I used to have a shop like this,” the man continued while Greg stood beside the cabinet with his elbows on the counter. 

“My dad, may he rest in peace, gave me a Cold Model 1851 when I was 21 as a birthday present.”

“Seriously? That’s a classic rifle, sir.”

“Yeah, it is. Well, I loved it though, but every weapon has its own weaknesses and strengths. I hate the rotating part of it when firing so I opted to keep it, and as new inventions emerged in the market, I chose something that’s really, really good,” he said before glancing at Greg and smiled.

“Ah . . yeah. I totally agree. Would you like to try our new SAR 109T? I have it kept inside the cabinet. I think our latest product is really meant for you,” Greg said, opening the drawer. 

Surprised to see the drawer empty, he searched for his phone in his pocket. 

“Oh, I am so sorry. I can’t believe it’s not here. I actually did not intend to sell it before doing an inventory. Let me call my assistant. Perhaps she could help me with this.”

“Sure. If you don't mind, I would like to talk to your assistant too. Perhaps, I can teach her some lessons on how to do stuff like informing the boss where things are being kept. Customers like me hate the waiting game and you know that, right?”

The man was calm, but Greg was trying to contain his fears. Dialing his phone, Greg was hoping the other line wouldn't answer. After a couple of rings, Greg felt relieved when nobody answered.

“Oh, I am so sorry. She’s not picking up. Let me show you a different model instead,” Greg said, walking out from the counter and taking a rifle from one of the displays.

Suddenly his phone rang, and a dangerous kind of silence clothed between them. The ringing continued, but he was contemplating whether to answer the call or not.

“Wouldn't you answer it? It might be your assistant,” the man said. “I wish to have the freebie before I go.”

“Ah . . . sure,” Greg mumbled as he took his phone out of his pocket.

“Hey, Greg. What’s up?” I asked.

“Yes . . . ah . . . Have you seen where I might have kept the SAR 109T?” Greg said. 

His voice was shaking while saying the “code.” Suddenly, a gunshot roared before a familiar voice took over. 

“Hello Amber?” the voice said.

“Riley,” I said through clenched teeth.

 “Your friend is kind enough to offer me his body. I wonder how it goes with him as one of my demons. That would be fun, isn’t it?” He laughed devilishly.

“You bastard!”