TITLE: Uriel's Fall
Mortality wasn’t the epic adventure I had imagined. I paused near the diner kitchen, blowing strands of black out of my eyes and resisting the urge to take off my worn sneaker and rub my foot. Supposedly that kind of thing was unsanitary. It wasn’t like I let the dirt stick to my hands. Talk about gross.
And then my sore feet didn’t matter anymore. Pain scored my flesh like razors opening the skin and heat cauterizing the wound in a single swipe. I looked at my arms in horror before remembering I wasn’t going to see anything.
I never did when creepy devoid-of-emotion-to-the-point-it-literally-hurt guy was in the diner. Why did he have to ruin one of the best aspects of being tangible? Empathy becoming physical sensation was incredible…unless he was around, sucking all the feeling from the room.
He’s back, a voice whispered.
Thanks for the update, miss obvious. I ignored the muttering of the captured demons sharing my mind. I scanned Formica tables and vinyl benches until I spotted him across the room. At least he wasn’t in my section.
He’s like Ace.
That voice was always loudest.
Not worth your attention. Focus. Gentleman on table twelve.
The others ran together until I couldn’t tell them apart.
“Shut up.” I hoped no one heard me talking to myself.