Coffee with a Devil Part Three
Coffee with a devil
A Story in Serial - Part Three
This is part three of the serial story I’m currently writing. If you have not read the story from the beginning, you might want to go check out part one first. Click here to read it now. This is a story you get to help me write by providing your feedback in the comments or by sending me a message through my Contact page. If I like your ideas, they might just end up in the story, or I might name one of the characters after you!
Viggo leaned toward his folded arms and shuddered out an audible breath. There were few times he had ever felt tangible fear—something beyond the thoughts and emotions in his mind. This was like an unseen, macabre hand tracing the death stroke along his neck. He tensed against the sensation and stared into the oily black surface of his unfinished coffee. He half expected to see a reflection, not his own, but the reflection of something from a horror movie.
He knew something was there. Someone was there. Behind him, whispering in his ear as it had been for days. But surely this was his imagination. She’d told him so, and she was always right. She wasn’t the problem; she’d made that clear. It was him, but she didn’t know. Couldn’t know, and that’s why she didn’t believe him. But Viggo knew it was there, thought he even knew its name.
The name haunted his dreams and stole his sleep. The name had a meaning. He’d looked it up. It was the angel of the abyss from the book of Revelation, but Viggo knew this was more than that. He knew the name meant something else: revealer of secrets.
The revealer wasn’t alone, but Viggo only sensed that somewhere in the back of his mind, somewhere in the abandoned part of his spirit that used to keep these things from harming him. But, Viggo knew, that abandoned part must stay hidden, must stay dormant, for it would bring everything to an end. Would make her go away.
Viggo looked deeply into the tiny pool of bitter liquid in the generic cup before him, avoiding the steeled eyes of the waiter. The gaze of those eyes had never left him. Viggo forced himself not to see as he felt the demon walk back to the other side of the table. He stared until the surface of the coffee became another kind of reflection, one that brought the memory back. He felt the demon laughing. It was a confident laugh, one of knowing.
They both knew Viggo was going to lose this battle.
To be continued…