Young Writers Society

    “Dorian,” he heard Ana say from behind him, and he knew which words were coming up next. “Why do you insist on going outside every single time? It’s pouring rain; you’ll catch a cold….”

     “Anastasia,” he said, turning around to meet the worried look plastered on her face—the usual. “We’ve gone over this, love. I like to go for walks.”

     “That I understand,” she let out, frustrated. “What I don’t get is why you have to go strolling into the middle of the woods even when the sky’s falling over you. How is that appealing?” Ana stopped for a second, but he didn’t get a chance to answer before she spoke again. “It almost seems like you’re cheating on me.”

     He sighed, rubbing his temples and thinking about the many ways this was pointless. “Yes, Anastasia, you discovered my secret. I’m cheating on you with the most beautiful, gorgeous raccoon. I should’ve told you how attracted I was to stripes and grey fur.” When she didn’t answer with anything but a glare, Dorian knew he’d have to do better than sarcasm. She’d never been a fan of his attempts to be humorous. “I like to clear my mind, okay?”

     “Oh, I see…” she said, trailing off for a slight second and looking behind him, into the chimney. “And how come you never tell me to come with you?”

     “Have you ever informed me that you wanted to come along?”

     “Have you ever offered?” She narrowed her eyes, guiding them back to his immediately with a slight hint of anger.

     “Anastasia,” he said, a smile beginning to curve his lips as he took her into a hug. “Stop fussing over pointless things.”

     “Wandering into the forest every day for three hours isn’t pointless, Dorian. I’m just worried.”

     “About what, silly?”

     “I don’t know…. What if you get eaten by a bear?” she inquired, an honest look of wonder mixed with panic spreading on her delicate face.

     “There are no bears here, love.” He brushed his thumb over Ana’s cheek, putting some of the black ringlets away from her face and focusing on the green eyes staring at him. “Now, would you please tell me why you’re acting like this all of a sudden? You never told me my walks bothered you.”

     She took her time to answer, and so he knew, indeed, there was an external factor helping her suspicion. He’d given her no reasons to be worried, acted as cool as he could, and he knew he could lie without getting caught doing so. It was for her safety—after all.

     “Glenda told me she saw you walking into the woods with a tall man,” she murmured finally.

     “Wait…you asked me if I was cheating on you….”

     “God, Dorian, not in that way. I just—ugh.” She stepped past him, looking into the fire again. “I just thought, maybe, you were going somewhere with someone, you know.”

     “Who even is Glenda?” He asked, turning around and moving next to her.

     She glimpsed at him, sighing. “Glenda, honey, Mrs. Foster’s mother.”

     “You’re interrogating me based on what our neighbor’s crazy, old mother said? Seriously?”

     “I’m sorry….” Ana’s eyes dropped to the floor next time, and he knew there was no way he could take his walk today. “It’s just, you’ve been distant lately.”

     “Hey, come here,” Dorian said, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “Nothing is going on, Ana. Since the first day we met you’ve known I take these walks so that I can release my stress. Still, if it makes you feel better, I’ll try to do them not so often.”

     “Let’s just stay in today, okay?” she spoke into his chest, huddling closer.

     “Of course,” he whispered and planted a soft kiss on her hair. He loved the smell of lavender she emitted. One of Ana’s many traits that he’d never get tired of. “How about we lay on the couch for a while? I know you like that.”

     She nodded, and so he guided them to the purple-reddish cushions, where he laid down with her head over his chest. “I love you, Dorian,” Ana murmured.

     He looked at the roof for a second, combing his fingers through her hair like he used to before. “I love you, too, Anastasia.” And then they remained silent, just enjoying each other’s company. Like they were alone in the world. Like nothing would—or could—ever pull them apart.

     Dorian lost track of time, his eyes closing for what he thought was just a minute before they opened to a slightly darker setting. The storm was still going on outside—louder, actually—and the lightning illuminated the now pitch black room. He noticed the chimney’s fire had died, too, but the only thing that remained unmoved was Ana’s head from his chest.

     He heard her breathing evenly, her arm still draped across him. “Ana?” he tried in a whisper. “Are you awake, love?”

     Nothing.

     She was probably out deep, and so he didn’t hesitate when scooting her—with the most careful movements—closer into the couch’s back. He sat on the edge and looked over his shoulder to make sure she remained asleep: the answer was yes.

     Now, thinking quickly, he glanced at the clock they had on the corner, squinting as he got closer to see what time it marked. It was only a bit past ten; he still had time.

     Putting his boots on, and taking his cloak and the umbrella—secretly hoping she wouldn’t wake up before he came back, which was very unlikely since she had a deep sleep—Dorian stepped out of their house from the back door. He knew now to be on the lookout for the old lady, who could be watching him at that very moment walk out into the forest, apparently.

     Five minutes in under the pouring rain and the constant thunders echoing all around, he found himself at their meeting spot, where, miraculously, he saw James still waiting patiently under a black umbrella.

     “Hey!” James greeted over the loud rain, taking a stand from the rock he’d been sitting on. “Look who finally showed up.”

     “I’m sorry I’m late…. Something happened.”

     “Anastasia?”

     “She knows,” Dorian murmured, slightly worried of what James would think. “Well, she suspects something’s going on. She asked me if I was having an affair.”

     “What did you do?” James asked.

     “The obvious,” he said, feeling his boots sink into the mud as soon as he shifted his body’s weight. “I denied everything. The last thing I want is for her to be in any more danger.”

     “You made the right decision. He wouldn’t be so happy if he found out your wife knows what you’re doing. Let alone find out who—what you truly are.”

     “Tell me something I don’t know.”

     “How about if I tell you something you know too well? We’re late on our duty for tonight.” James shook his head and started walking toward the rock again, slouching and taking the small box into his hands. “We have about an hour and a half before our time runs out.”

     “Who?” Dorian asked, his chest feeling the familiar tightness these moments caused him.

     “This man named Joe Foster.” James laughed for a second, balancing the umbrella and the box so that he could take the dagger out. “Can you believe he sold his soul for five hundred grand? I mean, I know some people need the money, but he could’ve asked for more.”

     “When did he do that…?” He asked, hoping James didn’t notice the sudden change in his expression, and, luckily, he didn’t. He just started walking toward the exit path and answered.

     “About a week ago. I feel bad for him, though. You know how Boss is. Sometimes he claims your soul way later on, when you’re probably sixty years old and don’t care anymore, and other times he gives you less than twenty four hours before you realize he’s sending someone to kill you.”

     Dorian stayed quiet, thinking about his answer for way too long. “Don’t you think that maybe we could get somebody else’s soul, instead?”

     “Why?” James asked, looking back for a second and then stopping in his tracks when he noticed where they were standing now. “Oh, man….”

     Dorian’s eyes remained still on the house at the other side of the street, the same house he and Ana had been to plenty of times before for poker nights, barbecues, and dinners. “Are you sure Boss wants you to take his soul?”

     “Yeah. They were strict orders, but had I known it was your neighbor I would’ve made an effort to try and convince him on getting another soul.”

     “He would’ve said no, anyways,” Dorian replied, keeping on walking after he took the dagger away from James’ hands. His chest felt tighter than ever, but he knew there was only one way out. “Let’s just get it over with.”

     “Being a demon sucks, doesn’t it?” He heard James mutter from behind him, and he sighed.

     “Yes, I guess it does.”