Heads or Tails

A Story by JulianaSun

The story of a lost soul that never finds the way back to the light

Heads or Tails

Deep into the Abyss - deeper than any crawling, creeping or slithering creature has ever dared to venture �" dwells a winged demon who has a taste for fast-burning souls. Souls consumed by their emotions the way a blazing wick consumes a candle.

The winged demon, who has once been the brightest and the most beloved among angels, is forever craving that which it hasn't been bestowed upon him �" the power to feel. So, he spends his nights and days scouring the earth for a soul to devour, a human soul with a self-destructive nature, and a will that can be easily swayed.

He never has to wander for too long, though. Not in this day and age. The world is full of miserable souls. Wretched souls mourning themselves and cursing at their bad luck and bad choices. Weak souls crushed by the rawness of reality, and by rawness of their own life. Wicked souls eager to use and abuse the naive and the soft-hearted. Yes, the land of people bristles with all type of souls.

Suddenly, the winged demon ceases his flight. He had just caught glimpse of a blue-eyed, young boy that sits on a park bench with a cigarette in one hand and a coin in the other.

Swiftly, the demon lands on the bench next to the boy. The boy doesn't take notice of his presence for the demon, though bigger and heavier than the boy (or any other human being for that matter), has the ability to make himself weightless and invisible to human eyes Only when the boy is ready, will he show himself in all his might and fright. But for now, he will only listen and observe.

The boy finishes his cigarette and flings the still-lit butt into the trash can at his right. His blue eyes seem to be staring blankly ahead, but the demon realizes that the boy is looking at something. He follows the boy's gaze to the other side of the park. A woman and a man are playing with a little boy, making him chase after a ball, and then giving him a kiss when he kicks it. The little boy giggles, and they all break into a smile.

“Look at them! Look how happy there are. It makes me sick,” the boy grumbles contemptuously, his smooth brow creasing up.

The demon turns his human-shaped head towards him. Is the boy talking to him? No, he talks to himself.

“How I'd like to wipe that smile off their stupid faces,” the boy continues, rage afire in his blue eyes.

The demon smiles. He knows that behind the boy's rage other scrumptious feelings

lay hidden; feelings that he will soon feast on.

“Alex, what are you still doing here?” a woman's angry voice blares behind the boy.

He tilts his head back and stares at the her, defiantly. The woman's lips are pressed together tightly as if fighting to hold back a storm of unkind words. She's seething with anger and indignation.

“I was taking a break,” he smirks at the her. It appears that upsetting the woman makes him happy. “The cake's not going anywhere, mom. No need to get all hysterical!”

“Alex, please, stop being such a brat and go get it. The guests are about to arrive and we don't have daddy's cake yet,” says the woman, whipping around and stomping towards a red-painted house.

Begrudgingly, the boy hoists himself up and slips the coin into the front pocket of his jeans. He's a reedy, stoop-shouldered fifteen years old teenager with flat, empty eyes and pale, sorrowful features. At a first glance, he doesn't seem like much. Not to the untrained eye of an ordinary human being, anyway. Humans have lost the ability to see into someone's soul. They are too concerned with the outward appearance of things rather than their essence.

But the demon...he always sees the essence; the soul stripped of his flesh and bone and worldly afflictions. No one can hide his true nature from him. Not the rich and not the poor. Not the saints and not the sinners. Not the liars and not the truth speakers. To him, all people are like open books.

The demon peers into Alex's eyes, reaching out beyond the sparkling blue irises. Yes, he hasn't been mistaken. The boy's soul is a hapless soul with a ghastly story and a deep-rooted desire for self-destruction. It will make for a wonderful meal.

When Alex strides off, the winged demon doesn't follow. He decides to wait for the boy at his house. He is eager to meet the rest of his family. Who knows, there might be a chance for a two, or three, course meal instead of a one course meal.

***

A slight scent of alcohol wafts through the air mixing in with screeching laughs and raving voices. The party appears to be a success. Everyone is having a great, drunken time. Everyone, but Alex. He skulks in the corner of the living room, perched on the windowsill, half-concealed by the thick, burgundy curtains.

The demon sits next to him, basking in the crimson light of the dusk and gazing upon the spectacle unreeling before him. His black wings are gone. He has resumed a human appearance. It is easier this way. Were he to become unexpectedly visible, no one would bolt out screaming, because he looks just as human as everybody else. One more face in the crowd. A handsome face with one blue eye and one green eye.

“What a bunch of poseurs!” Alex scoffs while twiddling with the coin.

The demon stares at the coin, wondering what's so special about it. All of the sudden, Alex springs up and wades his way out of the living-room. The demon treads close behind, careful not to brush against any of the guests. He may be invisible, but they could still feel his presence if he were to touch them, even if lightly.

After grabbing a bottle of champaign from the kitchen, Alex confines himself to the walls of his bedroom, shutting out the clamor of the party with an angry slam of the door. The demon walks right through the wood, and then waits to see what Alex does next. By the expression of relief on his face, the demon understands that the room is a sort of sanctuary for the boy. He feels safe in here.

Alex slumps on the edge of the bed and squints through the dusty window glass. Almost dark. He uncorks the bottle of champaign and finishes half of it from one swig. He puts the bottle down and sprawls on the bed.

“I don't get it,” Alex says, a dismal sigh seeping through his parted lips. “Why did they invite all these people? They can't even stand them, and I know that dad would rather spend his birthday watching football than entertaining a houseful of idiots!” His tone is sharp and bitter, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I bet that after the party's over, they'll be throwing dishes at each other and yelling like lunatics! Again! After all, fighting's what they do best.”

“Ah, so you hate your parents,” the demon utters in his growling voice.

“I wish I could disappear. Just like that,” Alex snaps his fingers, “puff!”

“Don't worry, kid. You'll get your wish soon enough,” the demon says, his purplish-black mouth twisting in a sly grin.

Alex stands up. The demon takes a seat in the boy's desk chair, eagerly following his movements. Alex glances down at the coin resting in his hand, then opens the drawer to the nightstand and picks up a piece of rope. The demon notices that the rope has a noose at one of its ends.

“ Heads �" I finish the bottle and go to sleep. Tails �" I take the rope and go to the basement,” Alex says and flips the coin.

The demon walks up to him, curious to see the result with his own eyes.

Alex removes his hand, slowly revealing the coin pressed into his palm. “Heads,” he says, disappointed. He throws the rope back into the drawer, and grabs the bottle. “To one more day of misery,” he toasts to the air.

The demons lips split into a mirthful smile for he finally fathoms the meaning of the coin. That coin is what stands between him and his repast. He congratulates himself once more for making such a wise choice, and then leaves the boy to his slumber.

He too must repose. The world of people is a tiresome place. They never really go to sleep, not even when their eyes are closed shut. They are forever vigilant and always ignorant. These clay figures are such a contradiction, the demon growls discontentedly. He, then, spreads his large, black wings and flies through the wall, and out in the night...

***

Alex is chasing after a scrawny boy. “I'm going to break you in half, Dumbo,” he screams at the boy, whose name is not really Dumbo, but Andrew.

The demon is soaring above the street, his eyes fixed on the two boys. Alex catches up with Andrew and pushes him into a bush. Andrew yelps with pain, thrashing between thorny twigs. Alex doesn't waste any time - he grabs the boy by the collar with both his hands and lifts him up.

“Did you rat me out? Did you tell the teacher that I was making you do my homework?” Alex bellows.

“NO! No, I didn't!” Andrew stutters, his teeth chattering with fear.

“Yes, you did!” Alex insists.

“No, I swear!”

Alex looks around. The street is empty. No witnesses in sight. He, then, raises his fist and punches Andrew. Fast and hard. Andrew yelps again. This time louder.

“If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you!” Alex threatens the boy. “ Just remember what I did to that kid who talked back at me.”

“I remember! I remember!” Andrew spouts. “ You broke his arm and shaved his head!” he goes on, horror glistening in his widened, brown eyes.

“Exactly!” Alex smirks. “So, you'll never tell on me?”

“I won't!” Andrew whines.

“Okay. Then, scram!” Alex releases Andrew who scuttles away, blood gushing down his chin and tears wetting his cheeks.

Alex waves at him, a menacing grin plastered over his face. “Take care now. And don't forget, a squeaky rat is a dead rat!” he shouts after the boy.

The demon descends towards Alex, and right before touching ground he shifts back into a human. He looks down at Alex's bloody knuckles, and is suddenly overtaken by the desire to pat the boy on the back and tell him - Good job. But the boy isn't ready to face his true form. Not yet. Light still sparkles within his soul.

Alex heads home, whistling with hands in his pockets. The demon walks beside him, his tall human form towering over the boy. Silence lingers between them, but the demon knows that the Alex's mind grapples with a myriad of dark thoughts. The bond between them has grown stronger. Things are going just as they should be.

When Alex arrives home, he finds his mother crying in the kitchen. Black mascara smudges her wrinkly skin, and her hair and clothes are all in disarray.

“Mom, what happened?” Alex asks, genuinely concerned and a little scared.

“WHAT HAPPENED! WHAT HAPPENED!” she screams, and the wrinkles on her face turn into thick creases.

Stunned, Alex draws back.

“That b*****d's cheating on me with some perky brunette! He cheats on me while I go out of my way to make a home for him, to throw him parties and to be the perfect wife! That scoundrel! I hate him! I hope he drives his car into a tree and snaps in two!” she spits out the venomous words, forgetting that her husband was also her son's father.

“Mom, are you sure?” Alex mutters, tentatively.

She drops into a chair and glowers at her son. “Are you taking his side?”

“No, mom, I'm just-”

“Of course, you are,” she laughs, a mirthless laugh. “Your father belittles me and you still take his side! You're just like him �" a traitor!”

Alex hates his mother when she's like this. She hates her because she always says horrible things; things that she eventually apologies for. But what good are apologies for, if you keep repeating the deed?

Alex loses his voice. He doesn't know what to say, what words to use. He just stares at his mother, his limbs too heavy to wield.

“You know what I wish, ” his mother says, wiping her tears with the heel of her hand, “I wish I'd never married.”

Alex swallows back his tears and folds up his arms to his chest.

“What about me?” he asks, hoping that his mother won't disavow him as she usually does whenever she and his father fight.

“You! You are just one of my many mistakes,” she says, disdainfully.

The words are like a sharp, poisonous blade - they pierce his chest and wound his heart.

“You don't mean that, mom. You're upset-”

“I do mean it, Alex. I wish I'd never had children. I was not made to be a mother,” she bewails, pulling at her ruffled hair.

Alex's eyes sting. He feels tears clouding his vision, but he doesn't want to cry. Not in front of his mother. His pitiless mother who does not want him, and never had.

“Yes, you're a lousy mom!” he wheezes, and rushes out without looking back.

Instead of storming out of the house, Alex runs up the stairs and locks himself in his bedroom. The demon walks through the door and sit down on the desk chair.

Alex sobs silently. It isn't the first time his mother tells him such things. He's used to hearing worse, though. But she doesn't mean it, he's sure of it! How can a mother not love her child? She does! She loves him!

He doesn't have many people in the world who love him, but he has a mother and a father. Parents love their children. Even if he can't make anyone else love him, he will always have them. Their unconditional love.

The demon shakes his head disapprovingly. “Don't fool yourself, boy. Your mother doesn't love you. No one does. Why stay, then? Give your soul to me, and I will make all the pain go away.”

“No one wants me. I'm all alone,” Alex whispers in a cold, distant voice as if he heard the demon talk. “There's no reason for me to stay.”

He clambers to his feet, opens the drawer to the nightstand, pulls out the rope and drops it on the bed.

“Heads �" I smash mom's car with the baseball bat. Tails �" I go to the basement.” He flips the coin, and then he clasps it between his palms. “Heads or tails? Destroy or disappear?”

The demon already knows the answer. The boy's not ready yet. The light is weaker now, but it still flickers.

***

“Take care of you mother, Alex,” his father says before closing the door behind him.

Alex stands in the hallway, anguish gnawing at him. His father's gone! Really gone!He deserted him, leaving him behind in a house that is no longer a home. His mother doesn't speak to him, either. Not since he smashed her car. She only sleeps and drinks and cries. Now, he is officially alone.

“You still got me, boy. I'll be here till the end,” the demon growls next to him and lays his icy hand on his shoulder.

Alex shivers. The light in his soul hasn't been snuffed out completely, but he feels the demon's presence more keenly than before. With each passing moment, their bond strengthens.

After fifteen minutes of gawking at the door, Alex decides to go to school. No matter how long he waits in front of the door, his father won't be coming back. He left and he didn't give him a goodbye hug. Alex wants to understand his father and not judge him too harshly, but his bleeding heart doesn't let him. His heart urges him to hate his father as much as he hates his mother. Hate is easier than hurt. When you hurt, your body weakens; whereas hate makes you stronger.

At school, hell breaks loose when Alex gets into a fight with scrawny Andrew. Andrew tells him that he doesn't want to do his homework anymore. He bravely shouts at Alex that he is just a loser and a bully, and that no one cares about him nor respects him.

“You only scare people, Alex! You have no real friends. Nobody wants someone like you around,” Andrew burst out, right in the middle of the hallway with all the kids as witness.

Alex glances at the faces gathered around them. Many seem to be agreeing with Andrew. Suddenly, Alex feels as if the whole world has joined forces in order to crush him. In a blink of an eye, he goes berserk. Alex pounces on Andrew, and he beats him to a pulp. It takes three teacher to yank him off Andrew's limp body.

One of the teachers drags Alex to the principal's office. He's gasping and writhing like a madman. His mind does not belong to him anymore. His mind belongs to darkness and rage.

“Why aren't your parents answering the phone, Alex?” the principal asks, her greenish-blue eyes glaring at him over the golden rim of her glasses.

“Dad's at work. Mom must be out buying dinner,” Alex lies, his voice sounding strange as though someone else were speaking through him.

The demon is perched on the principal's desk, proudly gazing upon the boy. Alex is close. All that he needs is a little nudge. One little push and he'll tumble over the edge.

“You are expelled, Alex. Permanently. I will talk this over with your parents and explain to them why their son can no longer be a student of this institution. For now, you may go home. I keep calling your parents until one of them answers,” she announces, returning to the pile of papers resting before her.

Alex gapes at the principal, waiting...Waiting for what?

“You may leave, Mr. Caulfield,” she insists, pointing at the door.

He doesn't get up, though.

“Were you expecting leniency, Mr. Caulfield?” the principal asks with a hint of mockery in her voice.

“There's no point in waiting, boy. She will not ask if something is wrong. She does not care that you did all this out of hurt, and not out of hate. If your own mother doesn't care about you suffering, why should this woman care? In her eyes, you're just a troubled kid that needs to be removed from her perfect, little school with its perfect, little students,” the demon growls.

Alex's eyes flicker off towards the demon. “You are right, why should she?” he says, dolefully.

“What did you say, Mr. Caulfield?”

“Goodbye,” Alex smiles feebly, rising up and making for the door. “See you never, Mrs. Dunville!”

The hallways are deserted. The classes have already begun. Now that he's no longer a student of the school, Alex decides to do something...memorable. He wants Alex Caulfield to be remembered with admiration and fear. Better to be feared than loved �" all tyrants say that! And he is a tyrant.

Alex scans the hallway excitedly. What should he do? What should he do?

“Destruction,” the demon whispers into his ear, and Alex lunges at the fire extinguisher.

He's not a bulky kid, but the hate burning inside him fuels his strength. The hate always fuels his strength. He clasps the fire extinguisher with both hands and rams it into the first locker. The metal bends with a loud clanking sound. Alex laughs. Mayhem makes him feel powerful. With the fire extinguisher as his weapon. Alex wrecks lockers and windows and doors.

Students and teachers pour out from the classrooms, staring at him panic-stricken.

“Rage! Rage! Rage!” Alex roars, madness glistening in his blue eyes.

A teacher tries to pluck the fire extinguisher from his hands, but Alex throws him to the floor and drops the extinguisher over his ribs. The teacher yowls, doubling over. Alex looks around him, and then hurtles away with the demon close behind him.

At home, no one is waiting. His mother is gone, too. Alex goes up to his room and locks the door. A sheen of sweat covers his face. His heart is pounding frantically. His thoughts are running amok.

He paces from one end of the bedroom to the other. The demon is leaning against the wall, watching him.

“This is it, boy. Your world has crumbled. It's time,” he growls.

Alex slumps on the bed, dejectedly. He wants to scream and cry and laugh at the same time. But what would be the point? No one cares. He's all alone.

“Come on, boy! You know what to do,” the demon growls encouragingly.

Alex's eyes travel from the nightstand to the demon.

“Together till the end,” he whispers.

The demon nods affirmatively and c***s his head on one side.

“Together for the end,” he says to the boy in his gruff voice.

Alex opens the drawer and takes out the rope. He stares at it for a while, and then he lays it on the bed next to him. He fumbles for the coin in his pocket. The coin shines silver in the daylight.

“Heads �" I burn down the house. Tails �" I go down into the basement,” he says, throwing the coin in the air.

The coin turns and turns and turns. Alex clasps it between his palms. The demon smiles. He already knows the answer.

***

The End

Author's Note

If you have the patince to finish the story I would really appreciate some feedback. It may be about the dialogue, the theme, the style...Anything you want.

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Reviews

hanselwheresgretel?

Oh. I like this. I honestly enjoyed it till the end. I like how you balanced the themes and you manage to keep my interest throughout. I felt engaged and wanted to know what was going to happen next. In fact i still do!

Posted 8 Years Ago

ANTO

The very few anomalies in this JuilianaSanu did not detract from my enjoyment of this tale. It reminded me of (a much darker version) of E.Nesbitts 'Five Children and It." in style which I really liked.
Life is choices but to give all life's choices over to the toss of a coin is either crass or pure laziness.
A nice story. Thanks for sharing.