This is the story about how I died in agony.

     I know, I know, you might be thinking that I’m one of those creepy weirdos that says that they’re dead int the inside or some kind of liar hat has nothing to do with my life. Actually, you’re right, but the difference is, I’m dead on the inside and  on the outside. You wouldn’t get it, especially when you haven’t experienced seeing a seraphim that burn your body to she's right in front of you.

     If you’rr still not convinced, you could take note that I’m now a floating, bodiless spirit that was caught using a net by my friends. You wouldn’t get it, but hear this some of you might think this is cool and all because I was floating around Phoenix with a hollow black suit and seeing all things I shouldn’t be seeing. You might say, “Wow, Cain, that’s really cool. Can I die in agony, too?”

     No. Just no.

     One, because you wouldn’t end up with the way I’ve been and two, that sounded creepy.

     You don’t want to die with the way I did. You don’t wanna meet spirits, wraiths and celestial beings you wouldn’t believe that existed. Trust me, they do.  I’m also  pretty sure that you don’t want to be chased by countless of underworld’s minions, finally die and had to find for a body. I did it the hard way, and so will you, if  ever you find out that you don’t belong in this world.

     All I’m saying was, don’t screw up your life, find out that something wants to take control of your body  because you might end up like me (not a good idea, really.)

     Oh, and probably avoid some ancient writing on a rock or something. Also pissing off your whole clan to the point that they can abandon you so you’ll end up in a silly van with nothing else to wear but a ragged white t–shirt and pyjamas. And then  afterwards, get your van stolen and now you had  to suffer on the streets.

     The thing that I’m saying was, you don’t want to live my life—if I still consider myself alive and all—but no, just no. But I figured that you really wouldn’t get what the heck I’m  talking about, so let me  start from the beginning...

     It began when my parents had se—wait, too far?

     Okay.

     Before all this happened, I was nothing but a poor kid living on the streets. Uh, no, wait, let me rephrase that. I was a poor kid living on a sleeping bag.

     This all started in a normal day. Of course, I was sleeping on my sleeping bag, feeling the heat inside it even though it was late in December, the snow covering the other side of my face and accidentally freezing some of my nerves.

     I can tell that it’s still early in the morning for I’m the loud clatter of numerous  vehicles passing right by my side and the buzzing chatter of people talking about how beautiful or dull their days was as if someone actually gives a damn. The whole city was awake and this is the exact time I should get up and start finding another spot where I can continue my peaceful sleep. Or maybe start my daily routine – stealing.

     Hey, don’t judge me yet. All I’m stealing from are those kind of people that looks rich and and lush. Or someone that I really just hate. Think of it as self imposed karma from me. And besides, if you’re in my shoes—that’s, sorry, disgusting—I bet a thousand falafels that you will do the same thing that I’m doing just to survive. Because you’re not dumb.

     Anyway, I was ready to get up when a guy in the sidewalk said, “Oi, get outta there!”

     You see, I can’t really get why those people act like they own this whole street. I’m not doing anything wrong.

    I know that I don’t have to  listen to that random guy, but what he said made sense. Besides, I don’t really fancy being targeted with snowballs as a first thing in the morning. Groaning, I said, “Okay, okay.”

     The moment I got up from where I lied, I thought about my van on the other side of the city town, parked in some kind of grassland. I wanted to cry (not) because that van was stolen from me. If I still had my van, I wouldn’t need to get up every morning on a sleeping bag and be kicked by some cops so that I could scamper away.

     After my morning routine, which consisted of glaring at the people that looked at me with pity, rolling up my sleeping bag and thinking how fucked my life was, I slung my things around my shoulder and took a good look at my surroundings.

     I’m under the bridge of the Public Garden. I only realized this now because I was too busy getting away from a gang. I wouldn’t tell the whole story, but it’s because I did something really stupid and ridiculous to it’s leader. And by stupid and ridiculous, I meant something that’s top-notch idiotic like boiling your sock and drinking the liquid.

     All in all, I should get out of here and probably steal some food or scavenge some. But wait, now that I think of it, I guess I shouldn’t steal now. I’m still hot in the eyes of the cops. ’Specially officer Santillan.

     The guy’s a huge pain. One time, he literally set me up with some kind of guy that would beat me up because that guy was one the persons that I stole from. And I didn’t feel anything but burning anger because for one, I don’t really care about the face or the identity of who I’m stealing from.

     If I remembered him and the things I did to him, I can feel bad. But no. So I felt anger. The next morning, I came to Santillan and threw some big sized–rocks and him and his car.

     I left the garden and decided that I should go to one of my friends (Hey, I must be a poor guy who steals and all but I do have friends). This friend has lots of food. Free food, to be exact.

     I was about to walk towards A–East when a guy stops me by calling my name.

     “Cain, don’t go just yet.”

     Color me surprised when I saw Quil. It’s been weeks since our last talk, and that talk didn’t go well. I changed my spot. They’re in the South Ave, while I’m in A–East. I and Quil were friends, so I smiled when I saw him. I remember those times when I was just a newbie about stealing and pissing and basically messing my life up more. Quil taught me how to get better of those things, and the next thing I knew, he and I were friends.

     “Hey, man,” I called back, my voice groggy.

     “Cain.” He said. He was wearing his usual snarky outfit and all that. But he was wearing a coat under another coat. Talk about sensitive.

     “That’s me,” I said, tapping the sides of thighs, waiting for whatever he has to tell me.

     “Come with me. They’re after you.”

     “Who’s after me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

     If you’re like me, a stray and poor kid that happened to piss a lot of people and a lot of gangs, there’ll be a hundred lists of who’s after you. It might that one guy that I kicked in the arse after I robbed him or that woman that I ignored when her cat started to have winter tantrums and climbed on a tree. She was asking me back then, but I just scoffed and her. I later learned that she’s a mafia leader.

     Quil bit his chapped lips then looked around anxiously. “I don’t have time to explain here. Come with me. We’ll meet Mugin.”

     “Wait, what? I thought Mugin isn’t here? I thought he, uh, left Phoenix?”

     Mugin is this another guy that decided to hang out with me back in the days. When I started to get to the real deal, by that I mean stealing and gaining  informations about others, I met him. Mugin and Quil are like inseparable pieces of some complicated puzzle that you won’t understand.

     “Flashnews, kiddo, he didn’t.” Said Quil, scratching his trimmed beard, still anxiously looking around. “Anyway, you really should come with me.”

     “Why?” I asked again, looking at Quil incredulously. Why is he acting strange?

     “They’re coming after you,” He said in force whisper. His eyes darted from side to side before continuing, “I can’t tell who, or what, but I know they do. Just come with me, kid, Mugin knows more than I do.”

     I was very confused. I was thinking that Quil was talking about the cops or something, or even the gang that I escaped last night, but something tells me that it’s not about that. The frightened and anxious look on Quil’s onyx eyes had an effect on me at the moment. I could almost feel his anxiousness, too. And his fear about something he and I both don’t know.

     And another thing, why would Quil depend on Mugin? Mugin was just like us. Poor, sleeping on the streets, scavenging for food and some essentials. But, well, he has his own house that was made with some overused wood and all, but still, why would Mugin know about this? Like, whoever and whatever’s coming from me, how could Mugin know? It’s not like he’s my stalker or something.

    But there was no time to think, that’s what I can say. Quil was so anxious he started to fidget and bite his fingers. His actions are also driving me nuts, plus with the  growing curiosity that I can feel under my skin. It’s either I come with Quil or just shrug off all of this. I chose the former.

     I looked at Quil intensely, my mind silently debating and thinking if I should really go with him or just do my thing. I studied him, he was still looking around like he’s expecting something come out from the crowd and tackle us. I can’t stand seeing Quil like this.

     I sighed. “Okay. Where’s Mugin?”

     That seemed to lessen his anxiety.“At the crossing.”

     I nodded then clenched the strap of my sleeping bag. It was a wintery day, and I was wearing nothing but a puffed jacket and jeans. It was so cold that I almost felt jealous of Quil’s coat. I had this urge to pull it from him, wear it then run away like nothing happened. Like he didn’t told me some weird things.

    I tousled my brown hair to get off some snow on my head. The day was cold yes, but the coldness I can feel inside and my nervousness overcame it. I don’t know exactly what would I do to myself. I don’t know if I should brace myself for this “urgent” news that Quil had told me.

     I feel like I wanted to run from all of this.. but to where? I’m homeless, and my “family” had abandoned me. I’m a stray dude in a puffed jacket, living inside a sleeping bag. Thinking about it made me wonder why would someone or something is after me. What, they’re after me because I live in a sleeping bag? Is that  how important sleeping bags nowadays?

     I was so busy of thinking about whatever Quil was talking about and partly eyeing some shops and people that I might steal from later, that I didn’t realize we’re nearing Scramble Crossing. It’s the most populated area in Phoenix and where thieves like me mark their targets. Right after Quil led the way to the Scramble Crossing, we saw Mugin leaning against a post, his hands inside his coat.

     Mugin was looking straight, his blue eyes distant. Then, he turned to us. The serious look on his face was replaced like Quil’s – anxious. Mugin was my and Quil’s friend. But Mugin suddenly disappeared off our radar for years. Maybe for two or three. I wanted to give him a bear hug, but his expression stopped me from doing so.

    He shuffled on his feet then walked towards us. Mugin was older than me for maybe three years, but his face looks much older and mature. He has this lines on his forehead like he was scrunching his forehead a lot. His face held that grumpy face and all that. Totally different from Quil.

    Mugin eyes held something I can’t understand. Like he’s deciding wether he’ll tell me or not. Or just carry on with it. I didn’t like it. No one liked it when Mugin became serious, more serious than he’s ever been before.

   “Hey, what’s all this about, Mugin?” I asked, sounding like a moron this time. How many times have I asked what’s going on? Impatient, I repeated my question, “Mugin. What?”

     He stopped in front of us, then looked at me straight in the eyes. Unconsciously, my eyebrows scrunched. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to bolt while having me and Quil around his skanky shoulders.

    “They’re coming for you. Go back to your uncle’s house and never leave ’til morning.”

      I looked at him incredulously then laughed for that’s exactly what Quil told me. I have no idea if this was his way of pranking me, but this cracked me up a little bit. Go  back to my uncle’s house and never leave until morning? What bullshit.

     “That’s the most stupid thing I heard this morning. Thanks, man. You made me laugh.” I said, raising my hand to pat him on the back, but I stopped midway when He put his hands on my shoulder then clenched his jaw like he’s trying hard not to scream or something.

     “I’m serious, Cain,” He said, his tone growing deeper and meeker, like he didn’t want to have this conversation at all. “If  you don’t listen to me, you might die. Are you hearing me? Go back to your uncle’s house. That’s all I ask from you.”

     Unfortunately, I’ve had enough of their “they’ll come for you” bullshit. I huffed, then took a step back. I glared at the both of them.

“Can you just tell me what it is?” I was irritated. “Let’s just cut to the chase, for god’s sake.” I said, groaning and scowling at them.

    It was wearing me off. The anxiety that they had given me added to the pain in my stomach because of hunger. I still haven’t eaten anything, and I wasn’t liking how they’ll throw off some words to me like they’re some kind of riddle. I didn’t even finish high school.

     They looked at each other, an understanding passing between them, like a part of the same machine, their minds working together. Seeing this made me clench my jaw. They’re making me more anxious and I didn’t like it. Why couldn’t they just tell me directly? 

    “What is it?” I asked once again, a little power in my voice. I just want them to get over with it. It was killing me.

“If we tell you, you wouldn’t believe it.” Said Mugin, but there was this look on his face that tells me that we feel the same.

     “Just get over with it, man.”

     “Millions of spirits from Hell wants to take your body.”

     And that’s where it all started.

    First thing I wanted to do when I heard what Mugin said; laugh. The second thing? Run.

    I don’t know if Mugin was fooling me or was cracking up inside his mind when he told me this. I don’t know if he’s just joking around and all, but a part of me wished he was. Okay, scratch that, I wished he was. I was expecting he’ll say, “GAHAHA! You should’ve seen the look on your face!” But no. There isn’t any laughing or smirking or snickering that happened. What’s present was the silence and the beating of my heart.

    But for one, I stifled a laugh.

    “Okay, that’s a nice joke. Now, can we get breakfast? I’m starvi—”

    “I’m telling you the truth.” Said Mugin, cutting me off. His words was cold as ice, and I had no choice but to listen. “Enlil.. Baal.. whoever he is, he’s looking for someone. A host. A body to settle in.”

    I blinked. Enlil? Baal? Who was that? See, I’m not fond of this names, considering if those are actually names. But he looks like he’s talking about someone or something important than my starvation for some falafel right now.

    I didn’t understand anything at all, but I kept listening, waiting for him to say that this was all a prank and he’s going to treat me to a resto near A–East later. I looked deep into his eyes, and I saw something I’ve never seen in Mugin’s eyes before (okay, not exactly ’seen’ but I felt it) – fear. He’s afraid, and he looks afraid, which rarely happened. It didn’t occur to me that he was shaking. From time to time he would shift on his feet and turn his head sideways like someone was listening, which was completely impossible because we were just three stray dudes talking to each other about absolute weirdness.

    “And it’s not only him who’s hunting for you now, also some of Enki’s minions. They’ll devour you if you don’t go somewhere safe.”

    I was losing it. “Okay, hold up. Sorry. Who’s Enlil? Who’s Enki? What minions? And devour? Like eat? Like.. eat me?”

    My head’s spinning with all this talk. And if you add my hunger, I can say that I might die. I looked up, trying to set my vision straight. Did I mention that my head’s literally spinning? Okay, wait, not literally. What I was saying was, I was beginning to become dizzy. See? This is what happens when you have no idea what your friends are talking about.

    I began to ask myself some questions like a normal human being would do. If this is true, and Mugin and Quil isn’t fooling me (which was pretty impossible) why would those things come to me? A poor dude in a jacket living on a sleeping bag? Why not those peeps who says that they’re some kind of an exorcist or something? Why a stranger named Cain Roneve that’s been abandoned by his family? It was ridiculous.

    “I guess you shouldn’t say their names often,” Said Quil, who has been quiet the whole time.

    “Who?” I asked, scrunching my eyebrows.

    “The first one that you asked, Baal,” Quil leaned forward, cupping the side of his mouth with his free hand. “He’s Beelzebub. Ever heard of him? His real name is Enlil or Baal. One of the gods of Hell,” Quil answered like he was talking about that I was losing some falafels and not about pretty little Gods of blah blah blah.

    I groaned. “Lovely.”

    “He’s real, Cain. And so is Enki. Mortals call Satan. The Devil.” He pushed. “But, his interest in you is not really that—”

    “Oh, no,” I chuckled. I couldn’t help it anymore. I threw my head back while laughing. Hard. “Man, I can’t believe that you two would do all this effort for a joke. Okay, okay, it’s very much appreciated. This was a cool talk. See you at Ryhan’s.”

    I started to turn my back on them, still laughing hard. That was the best talk I’ve had for a while. It’s been a while since I laughed this much. It was the most stupid things I’ve heard my whole life. Enki? Enlill? What was Quil trying to tell me? That actual demons exists?

    “Take another step and you’re scent will scatter all around Phoenix. You wouldn’t like it.” Said Quil, his voice firm and serious. He said it like it was supposed to shackle me.

    I turned around, the smile on my face gone. I scrunched my forehead. “S’cuse me?”

    Look, I knew from the start that they’re a bunch of weirdos but this is getting out of hand. What did he just said? My scent will scatter all around Phoenix? It sounded wrong in all levels. Also, I don’t think that will be a good idea. If ever my smell would scatter all around Phoenix, I wanted to smell like pancakes, not like shit.

    “Once Enki’s minions gets hold of your scent, they will hunt you,” It was Mugin who said that. “You should come with us, Cain. We only know one safe place for you here. Your uncle’s house.”

    I glared at him. “It was a nice joke at first, I swear, but this is getting stupid. And I will never ever go to my uncle,” I said. “I know you know why I can’t.”

    Scenarios played inside my head like an old film. The way my uncle Fernan threw me out of his mansion, and the way that my mother told me that I should never to them for help. It drove me angry once again. I was trying to keep the memory low, was trying to not remember them, but here’s Mugin and Quil telling me that I should crawl back to my uncle wasn’t helping at all.

    It made me angry. This time, not only at what Mugin and Quil said, but also at them.

    Quil’s face was pleading. “Please, Cain. Your uncle will know what to do.”

    “No, he won’t,” I deadpanned. “He never will.”

    It was the end of this conversation and I knew it. I don’t care if my scent would scatter all around Phoenix (if ever it’s true) they can go sniff my muddy and fishy scent and all they want. I was never the one who will complain.

    From behind me, Quil said something that I know I should listen and take note, but I was too stubborn to listen and turn around. The topic about my uncle brought back the dying fire of anger inside of me. It was years since I heard about him, and I was even on the edge of forgetting about it all because I was caught up with my very thrilling and smelly life as a thief and a poor kid. It was weird, but I was happy.

    I got used of being kicked every morning, steal some money and food, smooth talk with some food–chain vendors and find another spot to sleep when the night comes. I felt like home, even though I was practically homeless. (Yeah, funny. Cool, cool.)

    Thing is, I would rather be on the streets playing tag with the cops than crawl back to my family and be treated like a dog.

    I walked away from them until I was literally off the crossing. I found myself by the bridge of some kind of park. There, I stopped. The people passing me were looking at me weirdly, as always. Well, it’s not everytime you can see a seventeen–year old boy looking at the frozen river by the bridge, wearing nothing but puffed jacker and ragged jeans while carrying nothing but a sleeping bag in winter.

    Soon enough, my mind wasn’t on the frozen river anymore. It was on the things about what Quil and Mugin said. The words “Enki” and “Enlil” kept playing in my head like a broken record. And the things about spirits hunting me to get control of my body was driving me crazy. It all seemed unreal, and I want to say that it was unreal but the look on Quil and Mugin’s faces held me back. The fear in their eyes was genuine.

    It frightened me.

    But... I looked around to see if some kind of a monster or something was snooping it’s nose around me, to see if something unusual was happening but, I saw none. Just the normal routine of Phoenix. The city was buzzing with people and the lights were bright. Nothing unusual at all.

    I shrugged at no one in particular. Maybe Quil and Mugin was just giving theirselves a good time by joking and fooling around. Maybe I really shouldn’t need to get frightened by something I, myself, don’t believe.

    I started to get back to my senses and snorted at myself. I mean, Gods of the Underworld? Of Hell? Why did I even felt like I wanted to bolt right up when Mugin told me that spirits are chasing me? It was stupid. What kind of BS was that? Maybe if they tried to tell it to some creepy, religious weirdo, it will work better.

    I stood there by the bridge, laughing by myself. Behind me, I can feel the people’s eyes burning on my back.

    When I made up my mind that it was all a joke, I comtinued to walk towards West Ave, where the most amazing falafel can be found. It was also the store where my friend was working for.

    The store was small, but it was packed with people. Not because of its awesome falafel, but because of my friend. Stanley Rimario.

    This dude has six–pack abs (according to the girls that gossips for their hobby), mascular built and an overall good appearance. He has this amber colored eyes that would literally make all the ladies go swoon and all. From what I can remember, he’s pretty successful, too. At his young age, he’s already running his own business with his father as a mentor and guide.

    And then there was me. I’m normal looking (if I can say), with jaw–lenght brown hair that was never tidied up—partly because I was too lazy,  green, tired-looking eyes that I actually find weird, and always has this worn out look on my face. I was kind of slender for a guy, but I never actually wished for six–pack and all. I was happy with my appearance.

    I managed to slip through the crowd to the counter. There, Stanley was making some falafel, wearing his brightly-colored uniform. He had his back on me so I had to get his attention.  It will be such a hassle if I try to squeeze myself right into the crowd in front of him.

    “Ayo, Stanley!” I called out cheerfully, like nothing weird happened minutes ago.

    He turned around, and when he saw me, a slight friendly smile crept on his lips. “Hey, Cain. What’s up?”

    I chuckled lightly then sat on one of the chairs. “Nothing much,” I lied. “What about you? Plenty of customers today, huh?”

    He sighed then looked around with a small and tired smile on his face. “Yeah. But it’s a good thing. I was told that this chain was considered as a dump before. But, look at it now. Full of people. It makes me smile...” he trailed off. “Even though I’m completely annoyed by those girls who won’t even order falafel but has the nerve to waste some space.”

    I turned around to look where he’s staring at. He’s staring at a bunch of blonde and tanned girls bunched up in two tables. They’re all giggling and making some squeeling noises, especially when they noticed that Stanley was looking at them. Wow, talk about big hoe energy.

    I was shocked and ridiculed. They all look the same. The blond hair. The tanned skin. And even the make up. I cringed. Stanley must be having a hard time finding out who was flirting with him and not.

    I looked at Stanley, a laugh in my eyes. “They all look the same.”

    Stanley shrugged then chuckled. He continued working his spatula on the frying pan while talking. “Oh, well. It’s fine, I guess. They... They make the whole chain lively and all.”

    We shared a look and laughed.

    “Anyway, I’m guessing some falafel brought you here?” Stanley asked when he got the chance. He had this knowing look in his eyes.

    “You know me.”

    “’Course. Well, I got some extra here. You can have it.”

    I can feel the wide smile on my face, which kind of hurt. I’m never the type that will go around, smiling and shit. Stanley’s falafel was one of the reasons why I still don’t wanna die yet. He packed three falafel inside a paper container with the tag of the chain called “Peerios”. Looking at the Peerios box almost made me forgot about all the weirdness earlier with Quil and Mugin. Almost.

    He handed it to me with a friendly smile on his face and if  course, I accepted it like it was a gift from the gods. I wanted to cry when my fingers felt the warm edge of the Peerios paper box. The sensation was heavenly, especially in this cold morning.

    “Hey, Cain, thanks for coming by. You’re the first person I had a decent talk with,” Said Stanley. “And say hi to Quil and Mugin for me. It was eons ago since I saw them two.”

    I stared at Stanley. I scratched my jaw then gave out a light laugh. “Yeah, ’course. Thank you for this, by the way. You’re my saviour.”

    I don’t know if I can face Quil or Mugin right now. Considering the things that happened earlier, neither of us can face each other right now, at least that’s what I think. The thing is, they were literally spitting nonsensical things to me, and it was getting into my nerves. Not them, the words. Especially when Quil and Mugin told me that my uncle Fernan would know what to do.

    But still, I can’t help but to wonder what my uncle Fernan had to do with all of this, and why would Quil and Mugin would say such a thing. It simply didn’t make any sense to me.

    When I left Peerios, I stopped by a bench by the tree in the free lot near the park where I just came from earlier, and sat there. It’s where I usually eat if I feel like I wanted to be alone. And I did. Usually, I would eat with the other stray and abandoned kids near the plaza, but I wasn’t feeling any well to go eat with kids. Besides, I just eat with them because I can take advantage of them. Also, I needed some time to think.

    I was muching on my falafel while thinking about “if I was literally eaten by Enki’s minions, would they like how I taste?” It was a ridiculous thought, but I doubt they’ll like me. And Enlil or Baal or whoever, I wonder who was that. The first time I heard it, I thought about the man who’s selling some friendship bracelet at the crossing, because his name was “Oto.” I thought Mugin wanted to tell me that Oto wanted my body.

    The thought was creepy. Thinking about an old man selling tribal bracelets chasing you because he wants to take over your body was simply disturbing. I wanted to spit the falafel when I thought about Oto’s rotten and in complete set of teeth. I thought about that teeth biting on me.

    I reminded myself to not think of bracelets and the name Oto.

    I shook my head to get the thoughts out of my head and just continue to eat my falafel peacefully. I should really forget about Quil and Mugin’s stories and get on with my life again.

    I started to lay out the plans I had this day inside my head. After I finish this falafel, I should go to Ryhan. Ryhan was this big and burly guy that was my age living in a small house at an abandoned lot at the other side of Phoenix. He has all the things that a guy like me need; money. But of course, I can’t get it without doing him some favors.

    Other dudes like me—stray and poor and all—go to him to get some extra income, and most of them call Ryhan “big boss.” I mean, if his physical profile isn’t enough, you can base on the way the other kids depended on him when it comes to some moolah.

    And... After I get some moohal from Ryhan, maybe I’ll go do another round around the city and find a spot to spend the night. Then, I’ll repeat the process.

    Repeat the process. Thinking about it made my shoulders slump and my appetite go downhill. Thinking about how I can never escape the life I have right now depressed ny emotions. Spinning and spinning ans spinning. That’s my life’s like. It made me hopeless.

    Then, I realized that thinking about it won’t help me. I snorted. Guess I’ll die skinny and poor.

    Yeah, I know. You guys would think about “why not get some job or something?” Yeah, like I haven’t tried that. I spent the first five years of being a poor kid by finding jobs. But no one accepted me, and I don’t know why. They simply wouldn’t. I even got to the point where I applied to be a street cleaner and a bathroom tube cleaner. And guess what? I was rejected. Like, what the hell? Who the hell would reject a person who’s only trying to be a bathroom tube cleaner?

    Believe me, I tried to apply to hundreds of job, and no luck was found. That’s where I finally found Ryhan.

    It was dusk when I reached the alley way where Ryhan’s ’house’ was located. The place was damp and dark, and the only noise I can hear wad the faint boom of the speakers from the other side of rhe alley where a bar can be found. My boots was starting to get uncomfortable on my skin and my toes, and my under sweater was clinging to my skin in an uncomfortable way.

    Ugh, alleyways are the worst. This is where the rest of the smelly and stupid outlaws stay. Hey, I must be some kind of dude who lives in the streets and all that but I have a decent side, too. Alleys are the place where  you can find useless thugs that felt like they own the whole damn world with nothing but their muscle, guns and non-functional brains.

    The gang that chased my *** last night? Some of its members are from here, working for Ryhan. You guys were probably thinking, “Well, Cain, that’s pretty dumb!” Or “Maybe that’s really how you died and you lied to us in the first part.”

    Right. Like it wouldn’t be dumber if you stick to scavenging foods in garbages instead of going right into your enemies lair for a few cash and live for another day.

    I kept walking until I found the little hole right in the bottom of the alleyway that served as the secret entrance to Ryhan’s place. This hole was made with force, if you notice the little cracks and bumps on it. I can almost imagine Ryhan using a hammer to make this whole. Or maybe by just his fist.

    I had second thoughts when I realized I had to squeeze in it, and do whatever I can do to fit inside a hole that was the size of two basketballs.

    Ryhan was difficult to find this way. Like literally difficul this way. I looked at myself then wondered if I could fit in that hole that looked smaller than my future. Then, I realized that complaining inside my head will  do nothing at all. Whatever. Even if I can fit in or not, I needed to see Ryhan, let him do whatever he wants me to do and get my cash. It’s that simple.

    So, I started to take position like a turtle, heads in, eyes out. That made sense? No? Good. And I started to crawl. I felt the damp ground and the cold–snow. I cringed. It was too cold, and I wanted to stand up immedietly. The skin on my palms felt like it was slowly burning.

    Enduring the  cold a a little longer, I crawled until I passed the hole. When I  looked down, the snow–covered ground was nowhere in sight. Instead, it was replaced with black cement, smooth and cold, but in a good way. I knew I was in Ryhan’s quarters. Well, the outside of his quarters anyway, because the main door was was guarded with two persons.

    I felt like Alice in Wonderland who just entered the small door, because my surroundings immedietly changed. The narrow path where the hole was located was now wide as a long table. The place wasn’t pretty, because it was covered with black linings that I figured as countless cracks, but it was wide enough for one door...

    “Ooh, a visitor.”

    And two guards.

    I wanted to bolt right up when I saw the two guards. The other one was a girl, and the other was a guy. They were both wearing mask so I can only see their dark eyes, but underneath their masks, I can tell that they were smirking at me, because they’re eyes were lit up.

    Oh, and did I tell you guys why I wanted to bolt right up? Well, it won’t take a genius to tell that these two were part of the gang that chased me last night. They had the same symbol of the sun on etched on the skin of their foreheads. I was actually pretty threatened.

    But, instead, I let out a bark of laughter.

    “Well, if it isn’t you guys!”  I said as soon as I got up  on my knees, brushing my palms together. “What’s up?” I wanted to smack myself to death.

    The both of them shared a dark look then laughed. Of course, me being me, I just laughed along like something was actually funny besides their feiry red hair. It wasn’t the natural red color of the hair, it was red–red. And it hurts to look. They both look like clowns.

    Then, they stopped, giving me the dead–eye look, and I caught myself laughing. If my horrible luck wasn’t enough, I had to deal with my embarassment. I don’t know if the world hates me or what. I coughed, then scratched the back of my head, feeling some bugs there. I need a monkey right now. My head was itching.

    “So, um... I kinda need to speak with Ryhan, you know?” I muttered then followed up an awkward chuckle.

    They both looked at each other again then shared a laugh again. This time, they’re holding their stomachs like I was the most ridiculous thing that happened their entire life. I mean, hey, I know I’m a laughsack for almost everyone,, but, they didn’t have to do it in front of me when all I’m thinking about is how I can escape them fast.

    It made me sad. Not.

    One of them, the guy, removed his mask then laughed in another set of breaths. He looked exactly how I imagined him to be. He had wide jaw like he can actually kill someone using it, and his lips were too thin to suit the shape of his face. He looked like an empty wide plate with eyes, crooked nose and thin lips. All I can actually think about when I look at him was a blob fish with thin lips. It was weird, but it suited him.

    He had piercings all over his lips and nose, so it made him look weirder. Think about a blob fish with pierces, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

    Finally, his laughter stopped. It was the sound of a dying engine. When he took a deep breath, the dead look on his face replaced the trails of his previous laughter.

    “Well, well, Cain, isn’t it?” He asked in a deep, revving tone. He lifted his chin, looking down at me. “What brought you here?”

    “Oh. Yeah, I was kinda hoping that I could speak to Ryhan. You know, the usual thing,” I managed to sound like I actually still have my composure.

    He looked at his girl companion then nodded like he was actually considering. Hope bloomed into me, then I realized that I really shouldn’t be hoping for anything. Any second now, he might take out his gun and shoot me.

    “Ah, right,” he said. “We don’t know if boss is here. Maybe he’s gone out.”

    Like hell he is, I wanted to say. But of course I can’t. They’ll chop me to pieces if I did. Not like I won’t fight them if they did. All I need to do was to swing my– hold up. Hold up. Where’s my sleeping bag?

    My mind replayed all the things I did this morning. The jokes from Quil and Mugin. The crowded Peerios. The bench where I stopped to eat falafels. My mind stopped on the scene where I sat on the bench. I wanted to hit myself, spot on. I left my sleeping bag on a damn bench, and all I could do now—if ever these two tried to kill me—is to run.

    Yeah, I know. You guys were probably thinking, “Well, Cain, you’re pretty dumb. I thought you weren’t that oblivious? And besides, how the hell are you supposed to forget that a sleeping bag wasn’t on your back anymore?” Or “Grip yourself, loser. No one can fight with a sleeping bag.”

    All I wanted to say is, that sleeping bag was a part of my body. My body was familiar with it’s presence, so I barely notice it’s weight on my back.

    Now I’m a weaponless and sleeping bag–less stray dude in puffed clothes. The world is trying to kill me.

    “But, I do have a task for you,” The burly guard continued, his voice growing dark and deep.

    I looked up at the guy, and you can bet by a million falafel that I wanted to destroy all the walls surrounding me, run and hopefully wish that this was all a dream. And I did. I did wish that this was all a dream because I had this horrible feeling that I would die if it isn’t. I wanted to curse in a million language, to run, to do anything besides standing like a stone as I saw the guy when I looked up at him.

    A lump in my throat has formed, and I don’t know of I wanted to cry or scream or throw up in fear.

    The who I talked to before remembering that I felt my sleeping bag on the bench wasn’t there anymore. Yes, it was still the guy – the figure, the clothes and all – but there’s a horrifying change.

    I don’t know if I was hallucinating from eating too much falafel or I really just lacked sleep, but my eyes wasn’t lying to me. I even rubbed my eyes, wishing that if I did, the unusual and veru weird thing that I was seeing would go poof, buh–bye. And when I did, none of it worked, and none of my wishes came true.

    “Holy...”

    I muttered some curses from different languages when I realized that this isn’t some kind of an illusion or a side effect of eating too much falafel.

    I’m actually, actually, actually seeing this guy’s head become like a demon’s. You know the typical look of the demons illustrated in some kind of Christian and Catholic book. Red and black eyes, crooked nose, nasty red and burnt skin and long horns

    The guy – the guard, and a gang member – has grown horns on his forehead. It’s not long, not short, but it looked really unreal. I realized that it was flickering. Appearing and disappearing.

    His eyes has gone red, with the color of lava on the side of his pupils. It looked like a pair of red stones that glowed with feiry color. I realized that it was burning with a soft glow of fire, but it was to bright it hurted my eyes. It was horrifying to look at. His lips had turned into the color of charcoal, and his teeth was rotten black, maggots crawling  all over his lip and peeking from inside his mouth. His whole face started to turn beet red, like all of his blood had stayed on his face. Then, it turned redder, redder until his skin turned into the color of blood.

    It looked like it was burning and boiling. His flesh started to look like meat that’s been exposed on some enormous amount of heat, it started to peel. I imagined how the meat of a chicken would just start to peel off the bone if it was boiled too much. That’s how the skin on his face looked like.

    His face. His face had started to peel.

    My knees began the wobble, and I can feel the blood drain from my face. The cold air stung my eyes because I was staring eye widened at the male guard. I staggered backwards, the slow feeling of fear starting to course through my veins. I wanted to say something – no, I wanted to scream ’til my lungs give out. I wanted to scream, to spill some of my fear, confusion and the horrible feeling of death by doing so.

    But instead, I stood there like an idiot, to stunned and frightened to move.

    The guard—if I still consider him as a guard—started to crack his neck, snarling or maybe even smiling at me. When he tilted his head, I saw a portion of his skull. He was now bald, the half of his face burnt off. He looked horrible, and his left eyeball became too big to look at.

    Then, my knees gave out. I can no longer feel them. I can no longer feel my body. I was just staring at him in horror. I was on the ground, facing a half–skeleton half–whatever.

    Then, he laughed. His hideous laughter laughter filled the whole room. I can feel how my eats started to literally bleed. His laugh was deep, and raspy, but it had this screeching quality. It wasn’t a good laugh, no better than his face.

    “You know...” he—no, it started off. “I could’ve chosen a different look, but I liked your reaction.” His voice was just like his previous voice, but it was much, much horrible.

    “I don’t like this man. He’s not a good host,” He said, sounding disappointed while looking at his palms.

    “What.. what are you?” I said, trying to act brave and all that, but it came out as  a small whimper.

    “Why, I don’t know yet,” He said, and it was followed by a chuckle. It sounded hollow and frightening. Then, he turned serious. His serious look was much more horrifying than the previous impression he left to me. “But I will once I deliver you and your soul to my master.”       

    Yeah, I know, I acted like a coward at the last chapter, but I can’t help it. It might be the last chapter or my life. But anyway, whatever, because here we are now. Right, you guys were probably thinking how lame I was back there, but sure, I’ll accept  it. It’s not everyday you meet a demon-thug in your life.

    Anyway, I wanted to ask if you guys believe in such thing as demons and angels and gargoyles. Because if you don’t, you really have to see what I’m seeing right now.

    I backed away from the monster—demon—whatever, with fear and fidgeted like an eel then crumbled down, looking like I was having an identity crisis and an emotional breakdown. Maybe you’re just mentally disturbed and was actually seeing two mops right now and not a demon and a shadowy figure, there’s no need to panic, I told myself. But despite the words I whisper to myself, I know deep down that I was not hallucinating.

    The demon’s horrible face contorted in a disgusting angle, his head craned at the ceiling while looking down on me, making me witness the horrific thing under his face, the skin under it was torned off, leaving a big hole that’s right through his cavities. I almost let  out a yelp right when he decided to say something, “For three thousand years... My master had sought for you!”

    He sounds like he almost hated me because his ‘master’ has been looking for me for three thousand years. Look, I don’t know if what I’m hearing was only just a trick that my mind has played with me, but I sure won’t believe that someone has the capability to look for someone for three thousand years.

    But I wasn’t going to deny it for a minute, it can be true. Because, if you have some kind of demon–guard right in front of you, three thousand years of seeking for someone would be a potato.

    If this was a normal day, I’d laugh my butt off. But it wasn’t. This day was beyond crazy. It even surpassed that one time where a squirrel gave me some nuts for breakfast when it heard my stomach rumble. Or the time where I actually vomitted falafel when I tasted it. Or the time where I farted so many times my butt–hole became sore. This day – is impossible.

    “Right...” I managed to say, nodding slightly. My voice was quivering, like I’ve been thrown to a freezing lake, but I still  managed. Keeping silent in times like this would be fatal—at least that’s what the movies told me. “Do I know this mast—I mean, your master?”

    “Everyone knows him!” He roared, taking a step towards me. I immedietlely scampered back like a pig with my body instincts giving me warning alarms. His  voice sounded horrible, like a million waves ringing inside your ear.

    I nodded, trying not to look at his eyes. I was focusing on his adidas shoes and thought “I wonder how I’ll look if I wore that shoe.” Call me crazy, but it’s much better to think about things like that than questioning how this creature appeared here, and why did the host (the thug guard) became a demon? It’s much better to try and look him stight in the eye, or even at his face, because he looked like a rotten, burning corpse.

    My mind was going black, and my heart was pumping too much blood that I had to catch up my breath. I was panicking, confused, scared and disgusted. But my last three brain cells cooperated with me. I started to think about a plan. I was telling myself that I had to disrtract this.. this demon–dude with some talk, slide towards the wall where I came from, do everything to pass it quickly and never, ever, come back again. At that time, I thought of myself as a cool guy, partly because it’s not everyday you see a kid that can even think when he sees something horrible like this, and the rest is a mystery.

    “What are you?” I managed to ask, swallowing the lump on my throat. It felt like a giant apple. It was painful, my own throat grinding against each other.

    The demon–guard let out a boastful huff then smirked at me with his dark, charcoal lips and rotten teeth. Seeing it made me want to puke, to vomit all the things I put in my stomach that day. Then, he said “I am nothing.”

    “...What?”

    “My master has not given me my identity and my name yet. Name holds power!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, and once again, my ears bled like a tear from my eye. “And I don’t have a name.” He sounded disappointed, sad, even. It was a strange thing to hear, to see.

    I wanted to say “aww” but I figured that won’t be a very good idea, so I sticked with, “Uh.. when will you have a name, O’ nameless.. nameless..?”

    This time, I was actually nearing the wall because I was sliding to it like a retarted person. I can feel it’s looming presence behind my back. I wanted to crawl faster until I can reach the hole where I entered but this ‘nameless’ had his attention on me again.

    Well, for one, he was thinking hard when I asked him when he’ll have his name. No one said to me that nameless things that looked like demons was so stupid. ‘Nameless’—yeah, I’m now going to call him nameless now because god knows how tired I am from exerting the effort to call him ‘demon–guard’ or ‘demon–dude’ right now—eyed me with a questioning look. He was looking at me and the spot where I just crawled from.

    To my relief, he decided to let the details slide. But that relief has been felt like a fragile candle light that has been splashed with cold water when he started to walk towards me, slowly, with his adidas shoes and a grin etched on his burnt face.

    “When, you ask?” He started off, his voice getting low and raspier, the effect getting worse. My ears are staring  to bleed, literally, for I can feel the cold touch of my own blood running  along the side of my face, “Right after I do what master Ea told me to do.”

    Then, his grin got wider, and I had no choice but to have a better look at his teeth. I wanted to puke. There were worms in there! I got the feeling that I had to get out of here right at this moment because this giant dude–monster named ‘Nameless’ was advancing towards me much faster. And of course, I crawled backward, like an idiot I am, faster too.

    Even this dude–monster named Nameless will be totally weirded out by me when I grinned like I just got some free pizza from a shop when I hit a hard wall. My hands immedietely reached for it, for the wall in back. I started to feel the wall like a blind person while staring at Nameless with a frightened look.

    Then, I felt the edge of it. Circular. I wanted to shout, “Hooray!” But that wasn’t a good idea because this nameless demon–dude might think that I wanted to get his job done.

    To distract him, because that’s what geniuses like me do, I said, “If you’re human, would you love someone?”

    I know, pretty lame, guys. But everyone in this entire damn world wanted to talk about love and all that shitty bussiness, even a demon. Okay, to be honest, I’m not sure.  I just took my chance because this is what happened to the demonic movies I saw back in the days. Yes. I based everything I did on a movie. Call me master genius. But scratch that, not everyone in this world because I was too busy thinking about falafel and cash.

    But you know what, whatever, because that cheesy and lame question I asked seemed to distract the nameless demon–dude enough—which is actually surprising. His burning and horrible looking eyes turned to slits, and he began to look downwards, highlighting hid bald head and his skill that was peeking through his burnt skin. He was actually considering it.

    I wanted to laugh in shock but there was no time for that. So, I began to turn around to face the wall, turn like a turtle and started to force myself to fit in quickly, just like I did before all this madness happened. I was being too hasty and the adrenaline was cursing through me that the rough edges of the grazed the side of my face. It stung for a moment, but then I was back to being a turtle, desperately trying to escape a hole.

    The seconds were ticking inside my head, and I was thinking that the nameless demon–dude would have an answer and in the end, find out that I was only distracting him. It made my adrenaline pump up and my gut wrench. I was anxious, scared, confused and craving for falafels.

    I was like a rabbit, trying to fit in a whole that wasn’t for me. But I forced myself anyway, then I landed on my face with a thud. You can swear on all heavens and Earth that I wanted to scream in joy and all that when I passed the wall. Meaning, I was outside, facing the damp and snow–covered alley once again.

    I didn’t think twice to run. Damn Hell I didn’t think twice to run. I wanted to run, so why the hell would I think twice?

    Well, for one, I felt like I might trip over nothing and die in absolute agony because why knees were still weak and wobbly. It wasn’t helping. I feel like it will be detached from my body after some few steps and all that, but I willed it to work. I willed myself to run much faster, faster, faster.

    I didn’t bother about how cold it was, or the uncomfortable feeling I had when I started to run. I didn’t care about what I stepped on. Poop or something. I didn’t care about how many times I would bump to a trash can or kick some rats. All I thought about was the nameless demon–dude back in Ryhan’s house and the light that comes from the end of the alley.

    I wanted to go see the lights and the annoying looks that normal people gives me, because I really didn’t need a nameless demon–dude glaring and grinning and talking at and to me. I wanted to forget it all. The burning red and orange eyes that was locked in a spiral of black. The horns on a burnt forehead. The skull that was peeking through the red and peeled of skin and flesh.

    I wanted to forget it all.

    And eat falafels.

    Then, I reached the end of the alleyway. I was so relieved I might die. No, not die. I just escaped death and I’ll say that I was so relieved I might die? No. No chance I’m gonne make that permanent in my mind. Forget about it, you guys.

    But for one, yes, I was so relieved. I dare you to tell me that there’s someone you know who sees demons right in the flesh and not feel relieved after almost getting killed. I thought I’ll be dead meat back there. I didn’t bother to look back because it might send another shock through my body and some undying questions I had deep inside my mind, overpowered by fear, shock..and maybe somehow fascination.

    I don’t believe in such things. Like spirits or monsters or the boogeyman. I was your regular realistic guy that happened to live on the streets. I was shocked, and it was unreal. I’m still on the edge of telling myself that none of those things was real. I have no idea where I should go. Or where I am going, but I’m still running anyway. I was quickly passing parked cars, restaurants amd of course, people who had time to look at me weirdly.

    I was running when a very brilliant idea came to me. I stopped, catching my breath, readying for another sprint.

    I need to find Quil and Mugin.

    Tell you the truth? I wanted a party. A party called, “Yippee, Cain made it back alive!” party. And the main dish would be falafels, of course. Maybe with some kind of a hotdog on a stick with mallows on the end of it. Anyway, I said that because all I can have right now was a fresh bottled water that someone happened to left at the park.

    It was where I left my sleeping bag, and luckily, I found my sleeping bag inside a garbage can. God knows how much I missed my sleeping bag and how important it is to me. Well, if you’re a homeless guy that lives on nothing but falafel, water and cash, a sleeping bag would be worth a life. And besides, I can get to Scrable Crossing faster from here.

    I slung it on my back then sprinted towards the crossing where Quil had taken me in the morning to meet Mugin. I pushed aside the images of the nameless demon–dude as I run.

    I should’ve listened to both Quil and Mugin. I shouldn’t have ran away from them, feeling pissed off. I shouldn’t have done everything I did and just believed my friends. Regret washed over to me like huge waves as I run towards the crossing. I was hoping I’d see Mugin in there, still standing by the post where we all used to hang out.

    But no.

    I wanted to crumble to pieces because of disappointment right on the spot when I didn’t see Mugin in his usual place. I needed him and Quil. I wanted to spill all my thoughts and all that to them. I wanted to know everything. Why did that nameless demon–dude appear and why does his ’master’ wants me. I wanted to fill my head with crazy things before I go crazy myself.

    Thinking about that made me snap back from reality. I shouldn’t be standing here, I should be looking for my friends.

    It was dark out when I reached Quil’s place. He lives in a small cart near San Pedro street with lots of signings and billboards. That’s where everyone could find him, in his cart, covered by a big tarpaulin as his roof. The long cart was placed right in the edge of the wall street, near the dumps.

    I was too tired and exhausted to shout and say, “Quil! Come out wherever you are! I still hafta tell you about the demon–dude that wants me dead and all that. Haha!” And besides, I doubt that it would make him appear magically in front of me.

    I practically crossed Phoenix to get in here. And all I saw was nothing. When I neared towards the long cart where Quil stays, all I saw was coupla empty bottle of beer and some kind of alcohol I have no idea of.

    I stood there, not knowing what to do. I have no idea where Quil and Mugin was, and I don’t know if I can survive a second in the street, knowing that some kind of a demon–dude wanted me dead. I felt horrible and guilty. I wanted to punch myself on the gut, spot on.

    If there was something that I learned this day, it was “Listen to your homeless friends that a bunch of spirits wants to hunt you down and you gotta go to your uncle’s house as soon as possible.” Because if you don’t and if you’re me, you’d end up dead. Just like I was.

    I felt hopeless, and there was noehere I could go. I have no idea where Quil and Mugin is, only their spots. And yeah, they go to Ryhan almost everyday but there was no way in hell I’m going back to that dark and stupid alley.

    “Argh!” I growled, kicking the garbage cans near Quil’s push–cart. It’s contents scattered around, and some rodents scampered from it. “I should have... I should have...” I trailed off.

    A very unpleasant idea came to me. It was my second option. I felt anger rise up to my head, and I was seeing red. But I had no choice. I need to go to uncle Fernan. If it was the only way to understand why all of this happened, I’ll go to him. It made me much pissed off, confused and there’s this kind of hollow feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t place. Nervousness? Anxiety? I hated it.

    “Seriously, dad, why’d they leave him?”

    I turned around to see a girl about my age with a middle aged man that was about to pass me. The girl’s voice was familiar to my ears, that’s why she caught my attention. But I have no idea why.

    The man beside her said. “Your uncle and auntie has gone bloody nuts, that’s why. I can’t believe we came here all the way from London because of this.”

    “And, I can’t believe we only knew this now. It’s been, what, six? Seven?” The girl shook her head, her raven black hair getting messy. She settled for seven. “Seven years, dad! Seven years! It was ridiculous. I hope we actually find him, because our fligjt would be useless.”

    The man shook his head, slowing down. The girl matched his face. “This.. this is the problem with our family, they throw out the others when they see potential danger in them. But it was wise to do so.”

    “You’re saying throwing out Cain from Roneve’s was wise?” The girl asked incredulously.

    My eyes widened.

    “Naw, I didn’t say that. Cain was... well, a huge troublemaker but he had greatness in him. It was dangerous for Fernan.” Said the man. They finally stopped walking. “He was selfish at that time, and so was Elizabeth, I guess. And Cain was..”

    I had the huge urge to hide from them. And so I did. I was so stupid to not realize that I was looking at my cousin and my uncle. What were they doing here?

    And by the way, thanks uncle Harry.

    I should have noticed in one look that I was seeing ny cousin, Blythe, and my uncle Harry Roneve. The last time I saw them was when I was ten years old, excited to unwrap the gift that my mom and dad gave me. She looks different now. She no longer had those crazy, curled hair and her chubby cheeks. Now, she looked, well mature. A pretty kind of mature.

    There are things that didn’t change, though. Like how anger, mischief and annoyance would just constantly flash on her eyes, given that it was like the only thing she felt all her life. And her scowl. It looks exactly the same when I threw her gift at our garbage can when we were ten.

    And uncle Harry, looked exactly the same the last time I saw him. Though, he had a few strikes of gray hair and the cheerful looked in his face was now sullen and blank. He looked like he was so tired of life, but somehow needs to live through it. There was wrinkles on his face, and a beard.

    “They should get out of here.” I said. “They shouldn’t have come.”

    I was about to jump in front of them and say, “Hey, it’s me, yah boi Cain! And get the hell out of here. Haha! Like right now. You don’t want to meet a demon–dude or something.” But no. My cousin said something that made me stop on my tracks.

    “Why didn’t Cain come back? Well, you said that Fernan had his reasons, and so was auntie. But what about uncle Forn?” Blythe said, scrunching her forehead and letting out a harsh breath. “Seriously, was he always this dumb?”

    My breath hitched, of course, not because I was called dumb by my cousin who actually put salt in tomato sauce, but because I heard the name of my father. Forn Roneve. It’s been years since I heard his name.

    It ignited memories. It played like an old film. And it made my heart wrench in a different way. Like there was something missing. My brain auto played the memories I had of him. Me and my father fishing, laughing and cracking corny jokes at each other. Happy memories, just like he and I was before he–

    “Forn died.”

    The words stung me like a bee, but I had no time to go all dramatic near a push–cart and garbage cans. I need to get them out of here, or maybe, I need to get out of here to get them out of here. You know what I’m saying? No? Alright, I’ll leave it at that.

    Blythe had mention that they ‘hope they’ll find me soon’, and so they were really looking for me. I don’t know why, to be honest, but I do know that they shouldn’t get caught up with the things I’m involved right now.

    But still, I wanted to show myself to them. I wanted to forget about all the things that happened to me this day and just talk to them like I used to. Like a family.

    But, priorities. My priority was to go and find my friends and hope that they can explain the weird things that happened to me. I felt no longer normal. I mean, if you happen to see a thug–guard turn into something entirely different (like demons, perhaps) you’ll feel very damn different. That encounter with that demon–dude made me realize that the world I’m seeing now was mundane. Too normal. Too cliché. It was never it appeared to be.

    I imagined, the alleyways being covered my skeleton rats. Or a very old oak tree turning out to be a giant tree monster when midnight comes. Or the birds that we see in the sky could actually be a shape–shifting creature. I can never be certain.

    A horrific thought entered my disturbed brain; What is falafels are actually made from monster meat and green pubic hair of something I don’t know, wrapped in skin of something I don’t know either and fried using demon sweat?

    Yeah, that’s pretty much how stressed I am right now. See, that’s why you really shouldn’t be like me. You reall shouldn’t defy your uncle, get abandoned, meet two weirdos that would tell you that hundres or thousands of spirits are out there to get you. And probably, just try to live your normal life. Please don’t be like me. Please.

    It wasn’t cool (like you thought in the first chapter), it was chaos and hectic and terrifying. I’d trade anything in this world to learn how to “unsee” things. Yeah, that’s how confident you’ll be if you actually don’t have “anything” or “everything” in your life. Ah, the perks of being a poor dude.

    Anyway, I started getting out and go along from the place. I honestly don’t know what I’ll do first. My second option was getting to my uncle, but that coimcidence where Blythe and Harry came here made me think twice.

    I thought, what if I got there, and Harry and Blythe and Fernan break into a very stale and family drama? It was simply hard for me. Imagine living in the streets for seven years, and go right into your uncle’s doorway like nothing happened. Or like, imagine confessing your love to someone, it turned awkward, and try again right after that. It would feel and look wrong in many levels.

    And so here I am, standing in front of a mini stop while shivering my *** away. I can’t find Quil or Mugin, and I had nothing but them. Then there was Stanley who gives me falafel but his shift is over.

    At this time, I should be finding a place to sleep, getting inside my sleeping bag, but no. I can’t simply sleep and act like nothing happened. That’s what I wanted to do, but I can’t. I have a bad feeling that the face of that demon–dude would haunt me in my sleep. It was never the safe thing to do.

    Yeah, I know. You guys were thinking “so standing in front of a mart, waiting for death was the safe thing to do?” yeah, I actually think so. This mart had the lights that I need, and the outside wasn’t that crowded.

    “Hey, savage, get outta here.”

    I turned around just to see a man in his late thirties of fourties snarling at me. He had his “Mini Mart” uniform on, and some keys in his hand. My eyes landed on his name tag. It says, “José.” He was so fat that his bellly started to peek through his white and black uniform. He looked like those grumpy old man in movies.

    “I can sit wherever I want,” I said.

    He raises his eyebrows, kind of taken aback. He must be expecting that I’ll wordlessly go out of my seat. Well, that’s how we usually act. We belong in a totally different world from these average citizens. We’re all rags while they’re all riches.

    The grumpy looking employee parted his lips like he was about to say something, but I said.

    “You ever see something so unbelievable but see it anyway?” I looked at him in the face this time. “Like, well, demons?”

    He looked at me like I was going crazy, and I was. But then, he looked downwards, pursing his lips. He was thinking about it. Then, he scratched his chin like he was thinking about what he should say.

    “I did,” he said. “Once.”

    “Seriously?” I asked, my eyes furrowing. If what he was saying is true then...

    “But, nah, I don’t think it’s a demon or something..” he trailed off.  “It was more like an angel.”

    He looked at me with his eyes widened, like he was in awe from remembering such a thing. He looked like those guys that used to tell fables and stories to kids with extra emotions and gestures.

    “What’d it look like?”

    He blinked. “No... It was just a... a light. It was so vivid, and bright. I can remember getting my eyes blinded because of it for weeks.” He said. “No one believed me, of course.”

    “Of course.”

    He shrugged, his extra fats jiggling and vibratibg through his body like a jelly. “So I just decided that I was hallucinating.”

    I said nothing then just looked at him. If this guy was telling the truth that he saw an ’angel’, I’d believe it real quick. I mean, I already saw a demon. Why would I doubt when someone says that they saw an angel?

    “Why’d you ask, though?”

    I was having seconds thoughts if I was going to tell him or not. But, this is just a temporary conversation, after this we’ll both forget everything we said and just go on with our lives. What’s wrong with sharing my weird experience to a grumpy–looking fat guy that worked at Mini Mart?

    “I saw a demon,” I said, looking down, playing the images inside my head. “Well.. I’m not sure if it was a demon. But it got flickering horns and burning eyes.” I said it so normally, I can’t believe my own tone. “Oh, and it was wearing a black hoodie. It looked like a thug.”

    José scrunched his forehead as he look at me, then nodded slowly. “When?”

    “Coupla hours ago.”

    “Is what your saying is true?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Then it was.”

    “Yeah.”

    He snorted then said, “So what do you do now?”

    I shrugged. “I don’t know. Find Quil and Mugin and just...” I trailed off. I actually don’t know what I’ll do, or to go to. I’ve got zero plans in my head, and I got a demon wanting me dead. I sighed, “What after that?”

    I was more like talking to myself than to José, and he probably found me weird already because I founf out that he was already on his way back to Mini Mart. Not that I care if he leave me here or not.

    I sighed then stared blankly at nowhere, ny mind drawing blanks and circles. The memories playing like an old, broken record. And the random images of me ang my dad, Forn. I thought, if this would be my last night in this messed–up world, I’d think about me and my father, eating falafels together.

    It was always my dream, spend more time with him, and well, with my mom (who, by the way, made uncle Fernan to throw me out. Yeah, pretty sick, Elizabeth.) But it never happened, of course.

    “Being a Roneve is a great honor and responsibility. You shouldn’t go around causing trouble to everyone!” my uncle Fernan used to say.

    I scoffed. Honor and responsibility. While all I wanted to do that time is to join the boy scout, eat cookies and play jazz music in my room without hearing, “You’re a big disappointment, Cain! Why do you have to mingle with those imbeciles?!” Right. Like someone was brave enough to approach me when I was nine.

    The lingering words and memories made my mood more sour than ever. Right at this moment, I wanted to punch uncle Fernan in the gut and spit at him, tear all his cash and pee at his carpet.

    I hadn’t realized that I hated my uncle more than I thought. And Elizabeth, too. The moment they threw me out, all I thought about was “Now, how the hell can I survive this hell hole?” I suppressed any insignificant emotions I had in that time. I didn’t even protest when they literally threw me out our estate in London.

    But, pfft, my unlucky *** had some awful timing about things like this – like Blythe and Harry coming in Phoenix. It didn’t make sense but having them here added to my current problems. They’re looking for me, and I can’t afford to let them find me.

    Who knows if that demon guy wasn’t the one who’ll make an appearance today? I wasn’t safe, and if Blythe and Harry found me, they’ll be involved. It wasn’t a pretty thing. And yeah, besides my grudge on my uncle, that’s another reason why I would not go to the Roneve’s mansion.

    “Having a great time?”

    I was so lost in my owm head that I didn’t notice that José (the mart guy) was standing once again beside me. He’s looking down at me, his eyebrowd raised.

    “Oh. Yeah, not really.” I said.

    I watched how a wide grin etched across his lips. He looked those old uncles who just gave his nephew new gifts and all that. He had both of his arms on his waist, and I also noticed that he was no longer wearing the apron (their uniform) of Mini Mart.

    “Uhh..?”

    “What would you do if I say that I’m an angel?” He asked, literally out of nowhere.

    I blinked. “Sing hallelujahs?”

    “That’d be a good idea,” He said, with a wide and friendly grin, not like earlier.

    My eyes bulged when, instead of a very large man, a winged person stood before me.

    “Holy..”

    “Yes, I am.”

    “I was about to say shit.”

    The angel made a face.

    I wanted to run, or scream in shock. Instead of a fat dude in mini mart uniform, a very beautiful being stood before me. It was a young man, dressed in white robes and a tunic, his chest covered with golden mail. The plwtes were covered in very rare and beautif gems and runes that I had never seen before.

    His eyes were very blue, bright blue. Like the color of a gem – azure blue. It was glowing, just like the eyes of the demon I saw today, too.

    I scampered backwards when he fully spread his white, and wide wings. It was so big, and so glorious. Just like his skin, and his eyes, it glowed in faint white. But it was flickering, too, and I can tell that it’s not solid. It was just a glow.  He looked so unreal, but so vivid.

    I stared in awe, but in slight fear, too. You csn’t take that from me. I saw two unreal beings in one freaking day. They both had the same impact on me, but this was a little less intense than the first one. But still, I’m still questioning myself if this was real.

    I shook my head then said., “No, no, this is not real. No.” I said.

    I shut my eyes closed, hoping that if I open them again this glowing dude would be a fat man again. But no. When I opened them again, the angel was looking at me with squinted eyes and a pout on his lips.

    “No way in hell I’m seeing you right now.” I said.

    “Now, now,” he said, then immedietely, his wings disappeared, and so is his glow. He looked human. A very, good–looking human. “You are. Seeing me, I mean.”

    “But how?” I asked. “I had my eyes on you.. and you just.. just became like that.”

    “Oh, you saw my transformation, alright,” he said, shrugging. “I just willed you to forget it all.”

    I was speechless, and now, I was looking at a man wearing nothing but a brown hoodie under a coat. A scarf around his neck. My jaw dropped, confused.

    “Can you stop doing that?”

    “Doing what?” The angel asked innocently.

    “Willing me to forget about how you became like that. I’d go crazy.” I was surprised with how the casual my voice sounded. Like I wasn’t talking to a heavenly body.

    “Fine.” He said, making a face.

    Once again, I was speechless. It was replaying jn my head. All of the things that happened to me. I feel like I’m going crazy, thinking about how I saw two weird things in one day. Suddenly, everything that I can see seemed utterly normal and mundane. I feel like a weirdo.

    Millions of questions swirled inside my head, but all I can say was something verh genius. “Uhh...”

    The ‘angel’ grinned at me, his azure colored eyes thinning. “I can tell you’d like some answers.”

    “Hell yeah, I do.”

    He scowled at me. “You mean, ‘Heavens yes, I do’?”

    “Uh, no.”

    “Whatever.” He said. I was getting ny nerves back becuse he looked like a normal human. His grin came back, “Follow me.”