Young Writers Society

Bustling crowds are a common sight on the weekends, which means more victims. 

Well, he didn’t like calling them victims. They were more… donors(involuntarily charitable beings), in his words. After scanning the vicinity, he found the perfect target, a young, formally dressed male, seemingly wandering around hesitantly, trying to ask for directions. He seemed a bit lost.

“Excuse me, good sir, are you in search of something? Mayhaps you have been searching for a nearby place to stay?”

“Oh my, thank you, young lad. No, I’ve been trying to find this place called ‘The Antiquity Banquet d’Fier’ near Allium Street. Are you perhaps aware of this location?”

“Yes, I know that place very well. Would you like me to guide you there?”

“That would be very helpful. May I perhaps ask what your name is, young lad?”

“It’s Eliote Sir.”

While answering, Eliote slid his sly fingers into the pocket of the young male’s trench coat while he wasn’t paying attention. He fidgeted around inside the pocket for something of value, grabbing a wallet laden with cash within mere moments, then pulling his hand out just as slyly as he put it in. Jackpot. Thoughts of what he would be able to spend the cash on filled his mind. However, before he could use the money, he had to get away with it. Preferably scot-free.

“It’s this way, sir.” Said Eliote, trying to hide his antipathy towards not only the young male’s wealth, but the nobilities of this kingdom in general.

Ever since from a young age, Eliote had no choice but to learn how to adjust to the tongue of the elites of society, blending in to be just like them, earning whatever pocket change they threw in his way for whatever service he could provide. However, he despised it. 

The unnecessarily complex yet empty words that were tossed around in conversations, the extravagant and quite frankly uncomfortable ways they dress to show off their wealth, and the so-called ‘noblesse oblige’ they chant every time they do something that any sane pedestrian would deem immoral. He hated all of it. However, to survive in the rapidly industrializing world, he had no choice but to cater to the bourgeoisie, not the proletariats.

“We have arrived, sir. If you just take a right turn from here, you’ll find the place you’re looking for. A vintage building of four storeys, painted in green with its appellation covered in fine gold.”

“Thank you. Wait, would you like some compensation? After all, you went through all this trouble of accompanying me.”

“No thank you, sir. Just helping another resident of this noble kingdom find his way is more than enough for me. I shall return to what I was once doing now.”

“Wait-” The young male tried to stop him from leaving, but he was nowhere to be seen.

After losing the young male, Eliote started counting up his earnings. It was so much money that he started counting with numbers he had never used before, yet it was all stuffed inside a pocket-sized leather rectangle. 

After returning to the alleyway he once came from, he packed his belongings and went to an inn right next to it. It’s been a goddamn eternity since I’ve slept on an actual bed. Finally. After escaping that filth-filled filthy alleyway, he paid for a week’s stay and collapsed onto the bed.

That night, Eliote went outside to buy whatever food he could find. Despite obtaining a wallet filled with money, he knew very well that it was finite. He knew that it would run out faster than the length of time he could savor outside of poverty.

“Young lad, would you happen to know where my wallet is?”

An intimidating aura emanated from behind Eliote. The voice was familiar as well. It was the voice of that young male Eliote “helped” earlier.

“Huh? Sir? Oh, I have no idea wherehap your wallet could be! I can perhaps help you find it tho.”

“Well, I do know ‘wherehap’ my wallet could be. I have it with me.”

“What? That’s impossible, I swear it’s right-” Dabbing his outfit from head to toe, he couldn’t feel the wallet anywhere. It was gone.

“Are you perhaps searching for this? Why are you searching for something that isn’t yours?” The young male said, taking the wallet out of his pocket.

“How’d you get dat?”

“Well, I also have mischievious tricks up my sleeves just like you. Now, would you care to explain to me why you stole my wallet?”

“I don’t answer to nobles.” Eliote scoffed, racking his brain to find a way out of this frankly somewhat tricky situation.

“Oh, but I’m not a noble. You thought that because I dressed like this, I have prestige? You lowly humans really are naive ain’t you.” The young male said.

He could tell something was off. The helpless-looking young male that he ‘helped’ earlier this morning had a complete shifted in not just personality, but also atmosphere. Eliote tried to run away, only to realize that he was trapped in a dead-end. 

But it was strange. 

He knew basically all the ins and outs, nooks and crannies of the city. He also knew that he was able to make a right turn from inside this alleyway. But the path was blocked off.

“What? Are you perhaps trying to run away from me?” The young male said, his eyes glowing a tint of red.

Eliote knew what that eye glowing in red meant. He heard countless tales from people passing by, saw it in hundreds of books, and thousands of pictures. It was the most obvious trait only Demonkind had that people used to avoid being victims of their bloodlust and rampages. The young male… wasn’t just a young male. He was a demon in human’s clothing.

“Get away from me you demon! I have garlic y’know!” Eliote exclaimed, having his back against the wall. 

Or at least, he thought he had his back against the wall. Even though he leaned backward, his back didn’t come into contact with the wall, instead, phasing through it.

Falling to the ground, Eliote got soaked in a puddle of rainwater that had probably formed earlier this evening. It was almost always raining in the city, so he was used to puddles here and there being surprisingly deep, making his clothes soaked in water. What he wasn’t used to, was an entirely fake wall that you could phase through.

“Pfft. You okay? Did you hurt yourself? By the way, you do know that garlic only works on Vampires, right?” The young male(demon) said, breaking character for a second. Eliote wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Stay away!” He said, pushing the demon away.

The demon’s eyes glowed red. Again.

“Shut your mouth.”

Suddenly, Eliote felt his lips tighten as if they were being sewn shut by a needle. He tried to let out a cry but nothing came out of his mouth.

“Eslhir” The demon muttered under his breath.

Eliote didn’t know what it meant, but all he knew was that his vision was suddenly getting blurry and that his mind was getting hazy. 

He tried to shake it off but his body felt numb and before he knew it,

his conscience faded 

to black.