The Boy Who Ate a Soul

My life was a living hell, and that night I would've died if I hadn't met him; he saved me, and even offered to make deal with me. If I only knew that he wasn't human, no he was the boy who ate the souls of humans, and it seemed, he had taken a liking to mine. My name is Allen Hughes, and this is my story about my friend; the boy who ate a soul.

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25. The Curtain Falls: Ending at a Crossroads

   "Pity..." frowned the figure from afar, "Not only could the Father not complete a simple task... He ends up saving that damn boy and his friends..." Adjusting his reflective spectacles, Reginald frowned slightly as he watched the man leave the house, vampiric child in tow. "Well... I cannot stay here, if he returns to the church and I'm still here, there'll be hell to pay." Looking up into the sky from the safety of the bell tower of the church he grumbled a bit; the idea of getting wet in the bitter cold wind and rain didn't appeal to him much, but he had no choice, so he fled.

   "So Christoph, does that sound like a fair offer?" The Father smiled as they left the Hughes' home; having repaired the demon boy's shirt and overcoat, he felt the need to retire to the church for the rest of the day. He had taken the vampire boy with him only for the need to settle a gruesome buisness he knew would come.

   "Don't really have a choice, do I?" Christoph mumbled quietly, "With mom gone, the two puppets of hers will have died, turn to ash I suspect..." He knew that with no puppet parents, the house's bills would never be paid and so, the house would be repossessed, and him and the little girl put in custody of the state. "I'll do it, but I want my casket moved to the church's cellar...."

   "Why?" Father Cornell asked, "It would be safer there, especially when the two dispatched clergymen occupy the house."

   "I would feel safer if you were keeping a hold of it, something tells me that something terrible will befall that house... and I don't want my casket being lost..."

   "Hmmm, fine," Cornell smiled, "If it makes you feel any better than I will surly protect it. I know how you vampires are with your caskets."

   "Thank you, Father..." Christoph trailed off in a daze. As the pair arrived at the church, the Father waited patiently at the door, waiting for Christoph to take a step forward. It took some reassuring on his part that the vampiric child would be okay if he stepped inside the confines of the holly sanctuary. Finally, tired of being soaked, he stepped cautiously inside with the Father.

   "You looked like a poor, drowned rat," Cornell smiled, "Come, I shall show you to a room, after which you may feel free to freshen up." Guiding the boy upstairs, the Father showed him to what had previously been Alois' room; allowing him to settle, he then told him where the bath was and presented him with a new set of clothes for him to wear until his dried out.

   "Still not sure if I should hate him," the vampiric child snickered once the man left, "He tries to kill me, and then, poof... He's working alongside me only because a bigger threat appeared...." He left off at the memory of his mother; as much of a bitch that she was, he still found himself sorry at the fact that she was dead.

   Father Cornell, having left the child to his devices, wandered into the underbelly of the church. His mission for going down there was to further inquire about Christoph's past to the salesman that, against his better judgement, he had let stay over night in the pilgrim's chambers.

   "What is your link to this demon, Christoph?" he wondered as he opened the chamber door. Looking around though, he was rather disheartened at what he found; the chamber lay empty. The only evidence that someone had previously occupied this space was a note left by the demon... and a snow white scroll with a red seal on it. The note read as follows:

 ~Father Cornell,

       Urgent buisness has called me away, and, I do not foresee myself as returning to your humble graces.... atleast, not for now. I do thank you for the hospitality you've shown me, and so, as a token of my thanks I have left one of my contracts in your possession; should you feel the need to converse with me, or, to procure certain goods for your holly endeavors simply break the seal, sign your name to the signature line of this blank contract and I shall come to your calling if I'm able. It is my hope that perhaps we'll meet again, but, until then, I bid thee farewell,

   ~Sincerely,

   ~Reginald Kissinger Von Heimlich~

   The Father, having finished the note, picked up the contract and examined it with curiosity. As the note said, it was blank, save for a singular signature line at the foot of the scroll's length. He placed both the note and scroll into his pocket as he left the room. "Curious demon," he thought to himself, "However, I will not fall into a contract with him, or any demon, regardless of the situation."

   "Ah, that feels so much better..." Christoph mused to himself as he slid into the warm bath water. The steam rising from the water exfoliated the boy's pores, allowing him to breath a deep breath of content and peace. Sinking up to his nose, the tips of his hair hung heavy as they flowed freely in the water. He always did like water, well not holly water because it burned him, but all other water he loved, even when he was alive. He sat up a bit, placing his arms on either side of the tub, smiling to himself.

   "Hehehehe..." came a low, rumpling laughter. Christoph was instantly able to pick up on who it was; however, if he was genuinely in the building, he would've picked up on that smell his coat put out.

   "Really, Reginald?" he answered the laughter with annoyance, "You can't even allow me to revel in a simple bath?" Out of the encroaching darkness he appeared. The demon salesman, Reginald Heimlich, smiled as he bowed in the presence of the child.

   "No, I just came to congratulate you on your triumph..." he smiled, the glint of his glasses adding to the heir of demonic aura he had. "You made quite the unexpected counter to my little move."

   "Yes, you sent out a bishop," Christoph smiled, "And I was able to take him out along with the queen and a knight... If this were chess; you'd be losing right now, I believe..."

   "Ah, but I have only begun to play," He smiled, "Besides, what's a good game without sacrifice? You should know that, all to well I'm afraid." Christoph splashed water angrily his way, forgetting that he was only an apparition.

   "Bloody bigot," he spat. "Get out of my sight, you cowardly demon... If I see you again, I'll kill you myself..." The demon smiled, bowed his head again and faded into the darkness, but not before uttering this warning.

   "Beware child, a crossroads is approaching, and with it, judgement day... When it comes, you may very well have to chose whether or not your life is worth more than another's...."

   "Damn him," Christoph muttered, exhuming himself from the bath. Walking to his room he closed the door and in the candle light changed into the clothes the Father had left for him. As he walked down the stairs and moved towards the dinning hall he broke out into a smile of mischief, "And so then, has the curtain been drawn down on me? Am I undone then...?

********************

   The whistle of the train blew its three slow, mournful blasts of the whistle as it lurched forth from the station platform. The black behemoth quickly gathered speed as it rolled along the wet tracks that lead away from the small seaside town. He sat alone, in one of the First Class cabins looking out the window in disinterest. His bowler hat stored above him in the baggage wrack along with his suitcase. The rain sprayed off the window of his cabin as the train sped along into the vast countryside.

   "Well now..." he muttered to himself, "I guess those hundred souls will have to wait for now..." he cursed his luck; just as things were getting good he was called to the villa to meet with the cosigner of his biggest, and longest running contracts. His thoughts turned to the vampire boy, who, he so longed to have his soul in his possession. Christoph Tepes was an interesting child, and the two boys he befriended; they were also now peeking his interest.

   "Mark my words, Tepes..." he glared at the obscured reflection in the window, "I will bring down this little performance of yours. And when the curtain falls, I'll be waiting at the crossroads for you...and, your precious friends...."

 

 

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