This is the sixth part in an ongoing serial I’m writing. To read from the beginning, click here.
‘Now, now. There’s no need to be like that.’
‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ Damon reiterated.
‘And yet here I am.’
Silence engulfed them. It had been a long time since Damon had last seen Crispin. 1797, he thought. Crossed words and then nothing for centuries. To be honest, he would have preferred it if things had stayed that way.
Damon had found himself a demon purely by accident. Crispin on the other hand, liking the sound of living forever, or at least if not that long, longer than humans usually lived, had sought out a way of lengthening his allotted time himself. And things had gone downhill from there…for the both of them.
Finally, Damon asked, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘My girlfriend got some tickets to a gig she was just dying to see.’
‘And you thought you would pop by the cemetery afterwards?’
‘No. The music concert is down there. Witches Brew will be playing in a bit.’
Suddenly the bright lights made sense. Witches Brew were a motley band of undead musicians who liked to blend the old with the new. The old being medieval love ballads and the new, disco balls. They also had a habit of turning up at places unannounced. Damon was not a fan.
‘Nobody told me. They haven’t a permit.’ Damon was about to say more, a lot more, when the second scream of the night interrupted his thoughts. He was needed elsewhere.
Damon started to walk back the way he had come, completely ignoring his brother. A moment later and Crispin was walking alongside him.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To do my job.’
‘Can I come?’
Damon gave Crispin a sly look. Why was he trying to be so friendly after all this time? ‘I thought you came here with a girlfriend?’
‘I did but I don’t want to listen to that rubbish. I’ve heard it a thousand times and those dreary songs never get any better. So what are we going to do?’
‘Find out what that scream was.’
‘Really? You hear screams in a cemetery all the time. What’s the point?’
Damon sighed. Why was it no-one really understood the intricacies of his job? ‘Something untoward might be happening.’
‘And it’s not right.’
‘But we’re in a cemetery, Damon. If you can’t scream – or make someone else scream – in a cemetery, where can you?’
‘Honestly, Crispin. You’ve not changed at all. Your understanding of right and wrong is as muddled as it’s always been.’
To be continued…
Written for: 13 Days of Samhain vol ii: Day 6 – Witches Brew