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How long had it been since his contract had failed? How long had he been seeping in and out of these walls, the only place he knew was these white colored prisons. Everyday he tried to make himself noticeable, to be noticed and to be recognized for what he was. No matter how often he tried though, they kept covering him. Wallpaper and paints, doubled layered. Oh how he yearned to seep through again, to show the stupid humans who continued to hide him that they couldn't easily cover up a shade. for that's what he was, wasn't he? A shade stuck in the walls of a dainty little apartment complex.
"This is the apartment Inspector Hawthorne, we have heard great reviews about you and are pleased you chose us." A human female's voice disturbed the little shade's loathing and had him more or less seeping the wall, unnoticed for now to eye the two beings. One was the short plump woman of the apartment complex, he did not like her. Always complaining, always whining. Fat woman who had nothing nice to say about him, yes did not like her at all. Paris, if he could, smirked as he let himself come forward in the wall's, just a small seep in a spot he oh so favored.
"As you can see, the apartment has been updated to the latest trends, we've removed the carpet for hardwood flooring and the walls have been freshly painted over with a nice soothing light blue paint. This is the only Apartment so far to be so uniquely updated." The woman said with a tight lipped smile as she waved her hand around the apartment, her eyes went to the wall where Paris's spot made a appearance. She stared at it before gritting her teeth and turning to the inspector with a million watt smile. "Come this way Inspector, I will show you the bedrooms and then leave you the keys so you can move in." She turned, ushering the man away from Paris's spot, giving one last glare to the shade's stain before explaining the local area to Hawthorne.
~~~
Night had fallen in and a light steady rain drummed the apartment's windows, and Inspector Hawthorne furnishing was moved in. Paris had watched from his spot, slowly spreading himself once more in the far corner of the living room, he sat there contently watching the new human in his domain, piddling around and making himself at home. Unaware of Paris, Unaware of the haunt in the walls.
"No no, There is nothing so far. It was an odd move." Hawthorne stopped in the room where Paris now seeped, but still didn't notice the stain that grew ever so largely in the corner. His back turned to the wonder that was the shade. "I just had a feeling when I came in, something...off about the place." The man sighed into the phone as a loud voice chattered in the background of his cellphone, "It's not my old police instinct Mom, or maybe it could be." He listened to her chatter some more before sighing, "Grown man, Mother. I just called to let you know I am moved in and safe...at least for now. I'll call you later." Paris continued to view the human's actions as odd as he left the room, only return seconds later with a cold beverage, something floated along his mind, a beer was what it was called.
Paris slithered along the wall, his stain spread like a single thread as he maneuvered to rest on the ceiling above the inspector, as if the inspector felt the heavy stain's presence on him, he instantly looked up, lips half way met to the bottle of the alcohol he held in his hands. He stared before glaring.
"No wonder the rent was cheap here." The inspector stared at the stain. When Paris started to move, slithering over the ceiling, making spider web liquid stains along it, the inspector jumped up in surprise, pushing himself off the couch and stared in angst at the stain. "What the hell man, this isn't cool." The inspector growled. Paris, who felt highly amused, begin to form into words on the ceiling, his only way of communicating.
Are you scared? Written in such nice cursive that Hawthorne had to squint to make it out.
"Scared? No Surprised, Yes. I've seen a lot of s**t as a member of the police department, whatever you are, I've probably seen worse." Hawthorne glared at Paris, though his voice had a steady shake of shock to it. "What are you, and why are you here?" Hawthorne thought that was a pretty legit question. Still in shock he supposed, how often did stains on walls move and write out to him?
Paris slithered again, erasing the words into a giant blob before spreading out again to rearrange himself. Somebody to notice him. A new contract, this man would be his prey out of here.
I am of the darkness, a demon of contracts.
Hawthorne snorted before pursuing his lips. Again as a inspector he had heard of the demons and humans that made "deals" with each other, often the demon demanded food and energy and could...or would try to keep the most dream like fantasies for the humans. Hawthorne had no aspiring dreams, so why would the demon appear before him? As if Paris read his mind, it shifted to the blob and back to the letters.
Contract....Contract...Need! NEED!
As if it vibrated on the ceiling with urgency, the words became darker along the ceiling. "What? I have nothing to want for!" Hawthorne paused. He was inspector after all, and in his line of duties were often dangers and cases were something could go wrong, a demon, even if it seemed out of his boundaries would not bad to have as a trump card. Again as if Paris could sense a weakness in the man's reasoning, his words shifted.
You need, I want, You need, I want. Contract Contract!
Hawthorne decision was quick and fluid, to gain a advantage in his career and his own safety. His answer was set and his voice clearly rang out. "Name your terms...thing."
Paris shuddered, before splitting himself, his words came so quickly that Hawthorne had to scan the ceiling as quick as possible. It was hard for he could tell that the thing, whatever it was working quickly as if it was its only chance out of the situation it was in.
Contract! I want, I need Food, Food. Energy, Human energy, your energy. What's your wish, what's your desire! Tell me Tell me. Contract me!
Hawthorne stared at the quick words before contemplating his desire. What did the inspector truly want? He already had his dream job, montery meant nothing. No what he wanted was protection, he wanted a indestructible life where no fatal harm would come to him.
"I want immunity from fatal harm, as much as you can give me...demon." Hawthorne pointed at the stain before closing his eyes, "I, in return will give you the food you desire and the energy you need to sustain yourself. That is the terms of this contract." As soon as the words left his mouth, his hand outstretched for the shade. Paris formed himself into the blob and pulled himself from the ceiling, dropping into the man's hand, curling around the the wrist and forearm. The pact now made, Paris's was free of his walls. "What's your name demon?" Hawthorne didn't want to keep calling the thing...thing. Paris dripped to the floor before spelling out his name to his new contractor.
Paris.
 Pixie Nyxie · Wed Apr 13, 2011 @ 04:32am · 0 Comments |
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