Seer
'Mr. Doyle, will you help me? Please? Will you help me?' The little girl with only one shoe followed him around his dream - from the classroom, back to the apartment. Harri was cooking pancakes but, for some reason, she wouldn't look at him - no matter which direction he walked around her, all he ever saw was the back of her head. The pancakes were burning - but she didn't care. And the girl was still standing by the open door, knocking on it - like she was asking to come in. 'Please, Mr. Doyle, will you help me?'
The knocking grew louder - and louder - and more insistent - until, with a yell, he jerked awake and realised he was hearing it in the real world. There was somebody knocking at his door.
He checked the spy-hole before he so much as took the chain off, he couldn't be too careful these days. But it was only Kizzie. He opened the door and let him in.
'Jeez, Doyle, what the hell happened to you? You look like … hell happened.'
Doyle stumbled back to the sofa and lit a cigarette. There was a little bit of whisky left in the bottle on the coffee table, and he poured himself a glass. There wasn't enough to offer it around. He knew he must look a mess, and the place must look a mess.
He hadn't been clean shaven - far from it - when the brachen demon had come to see him, and that was … he didn't actually know how long ago that was now. But he hadn't shaved, or changed or washed or even moved from the sofa - other than to buy more alcohol, more cigarettes - in … it felt like forever. Though the scruff on his face told him it couldn't have been that long.
It was long enough though, Kizzie was right. Hell had happened - and he had been there an eternity.
'Are you in trouble?' Kizzie asked him, 'did you do something stupid?'
He shook his head, and then nodded. 'I think .. maybe … I … do you know some fellas called The Scourge?'
'Oh man,' the demon had paled, 'tell me you don't have them after you. You didn't cross them?'
'No,' his voice broke a little, 'no - I didn't do anythin' … I didn't do anythin'.' He sucked on his cigarette. 'And now here I am. And I got blood on my hands.' He took a great shaky lungful of breath, his hands trembled a little, and he told Kizzie about his visitor - and what The Scourge had done to them.
'Well, man - I'm sorry they're dead. Sounds like they were kin to you. But not crossing The Scourge? Believe me - a guy like you has got no business crossing guys like them. They're big time. You're nobody, you couldn't possibly hope to beat them in an aeon of aeons.'
'They weren't askin' me to fight,' he said, unevenly. 'Just hide 'em.'
'The Scourge wouldn't make a distinction. They'd grind you into a paste.'
'Yep … well,' he exhaled, heavily - still shaky, 'they did that to the family of demons anyways. Not much o' them left now. And that's on me.' It felt like he would carry it forever. However long he had been carrying this so far, it was already too heavy - it was already crushing him. The whole of the rest of his life like this … he didn't think he would be up to it. He'd buckle under it all. He'd already folded fast enough under the enormity of his demon half - he really wasn't strong enough for extra burdens added on top.
'How do you know they got found?' Kizzie asked him, he sounded reasonable - matter of fact, like he was trying to make Doyle see sense. 'Maybe the clan got away and are in hiding somewhere. How would you know?'
'I know.'
'That's just guilt talking.'
'No,' he shook his head. 'I saw it - saw them - getting slaughtered. In my head. It was like, flashes - and there was pain. It dropped me to the floor, I thought I was having a stroke, but for the pictures in my head. So when it was finished, when I could stand up again, I went to go find 'em. They were right where the images said they would be. Dead.'
He looked up. Kizzie was staring at him, his mouth open slightly, his eyes wide. He looked … awed, though that seemed crazy. 'What?' Doyle asked him. 'What is it?'
'You had a vision,' Kizzie breathed.
'A what?'
'A vision. Like that - that's the pure sight that is, from the higher powers. You're connected to them. They spoke to you. You're a seer now.'
Doyle frowned and took another drag on his cigarette. 'What the hell does that mean?'