Coffee with a Devil Part Four
Coffee with a devil
A Story in Serial - Part Four
This is part four 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!
Five Days Ago
Viggo let his numb finger plop onto the dismiss button of his cell phone alarm and then dragged it up the screen until the obnoxious elevator music ringtone was silenced. He pushed himself up and propped up on one elbow, staring at the wall of his bedroom. Shaking his arm to get rid of the weightless tingling caused by sleeping in an awkward position, he blinked several times and tried to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.
He took in a deep breath, too deep, and tried not to cough. Lisa was a light sleeper, and if the alarm hadn’t woken her, a cough disrupting the cryptic silence would surely pull her from her troubled dreams. He slipped out of the bed as smoothly and quietly as possible, wincing as his knees and ankles cracked. As he performed his back popping reverse stretch he wondered why he wasn’t smelling coffee brewing. Lisa always set the timer before going to sleep. She didn’t have to be to work until hours after he left, but she liked feeling as if she helped him get ready in the morning, even if it was something as simple as setting up the automatic brewer.
But there was no aroma drifting in from the kitchen, and he didn’t hear the familiar sound of the percolating build-up and then the satisfying drip-pour into the carafe. There was nothing to smell that morning. No sounds to be heard.
Viggo cut his stretch short, leaned over to the nightstand, and flipped the lamp on. Turning his eyes to shield them from the intrusive light, he looked to Lisa’s side of the bed.
Empty. Covers pulled up because no one had slept there last night.
“Freshen that up for you, bud?”
Viggo sucked in a cold, abrupt breath and looked up from his coffee. The waiter was standing over him, holding a carafe and staring at him. Viggo blinked away the memory and looked closely, immediately entranced by the waiter’s icy-blue eyes.
“What?” He rubbed his face and looked around. The diner was empty except for him and the waiter. That’s what his eyes told him, but he knew better.
“Do you want me to freshen that up for you?” The waiter dipped his head toward Viggo’s mug.
Viggo looked and saw that it was nearly full. He’d only taken a few sips. When he looked back at the waiter, he felt his heartbeat increase its tempo. The waiter was unblinking. In fact, his eyes widened and he gave an almost indiscernible nod as if he were hiding it from someone. He then shifted his eyes to his right in the direction of the chair across from Viggo.
Viggo nervously glanced in the direction of the invisible Abaddon. He swallowed hard and then nodded to the waiter who quickly tipped the carafe to the mug and filled the mug to the top.
“Would you like to order anything else?”
Viggo shook his head.
“Are you sure, Viggo?”
He gripped the edge of the table and snapped his head up to look at the waiter, who seemed unphased. “How do—”
“Maybe just some toast?” The waiter interrupted him and spoke aggressively. After a slight pause, he gave another indiscernible nod.
Viggo felt himself shaking but forced his body to stay where it was. He croaked out something that sounded like “okay” and gave a nod.
“Coming right up.”
The waiter turned to walked away but paused next to the seat where Viggo sensed Abaddon was still seated. He looked at the chair and smiled before walking to the kitchen. When he’d gone around the counter, he set the carafe back on the warmer and then turned to look at Viggo. He gave him a full nod this time and pointed at the table. Unsure what the point had been directed at, Viggo looked around until he felt a cool, moist sensation in the palm of his hand. Startled, he looked at his coffee mug. He nearly shouted and jumped from the table.
The mug was gone, replaced by a glass of clear, cool water.
To be continued…