Acquaintance
...Damnation of the Conceiver...
3rd Person Mode
"Unique?" asked Daniel as he stepped forward into her hospital room, a tray in his hands. "I've brought you some food."
But no one answered. He noticed that when he came to her bedside that she had wriggled herself from her shackles, light traces of blood showed evidence of such. He laid the tray of food down at the dresser near the supposed window, and looked under the bed.
"Unique?" He stood. "How the hell did she get past the handcuffs and locked door?" he pondered. "I've gotta find her," he concluded, and left her food behind to trace after her.
1st Person Mode
"My dear, why have you an iron pipe in your hand?" he asked me.
I looked down to the narrow pipe that I had used to defend myself against the demon girl. I let it fall to the floor. "Uhm, just protection."
"Protection from what?" he asked with a smile.
"Protection from those.. things. Haven't you seen them?" I looked around the bright room, and how it opposed the dark alternative world I had found myself in many times. "Where am I, anyways?"
"You're in Brookhaven Hospital," he answered.
"Then why did I go to my home, and a mirror room, and the Wish House gates?" I quipped.
He raised his eyebrows. "So, you know of Wish House?"
I nodded nervously. "Yes, I went there as a child. I don't want to remember the memories. No one believes us when we, the survivors, say that there were evil things that went on there."
The stranger nodded. "Indeed, no one does believe us."
"Wait, you're a survivor?" I asked.
"Yes, I am. As a matter of fact, you may know me better than you anticipated. Have you seen the red writings in stone?"
"Yeah, I have. Did you write them?" I questioned, leaning forward in interest.
"Yes, but I doubt anyone could read them," he said, shaking his head.
"I could read them," I replied, my eyes, widened.
"Then you're as special as I. But you didn't hear of the Sacraments, I'm sure."
"Yes, we had to learn seven," I answered. "But I only learned six."
"That's nothing compared to having to learn twenty-one of them, but I didn't come to finalize one of them until later in life."
"Did some old woman teach you?" I asked.
He didn't answer at first. He then changed the subject. "Did you ever find out the final Sacrament?"
"No, I didn't," I replied, ignoring that he was avoiding my question. "What are the Sacraments for, anyways?"
"The Sacraments are several requirements needed for opening the Gates To Paradise."
"If I wanted to hear that, I would've talked to Dahlia," I laughed.
His eyes seemed angry. "So, you know Dahlia."
"Sure, the nutcase," I said with a giggle.
"I'll have you know that she's my mother," he said.
I cupped my hands over my mouth. "I'm so sorry," I apologized. "I wasn't making fun, but she was rather.."
"Strange? Perhaps, but what she is doing is nothing short of strange if she believes that all of human kind can be saved from Judgement Day."
"It seems pretty inevitable," I admitted.
"If our lives must end like this, we at least need to go down with a fight, no?" he said with a smirk. "Now, dear, I noticed that when you came in, your arm was bleeding."
I looked down to the gash in my arm where the demon child had stabbed me. "Yeah, one of those.. creatures did it."
"Since I'm ordering lunch for you, I can have one of my assistants come and clean that up for you," he insisted.
"Oh, it's really nothing," I said, holding my palm over it.
"No, no, I insist," he concluded, and slapped his hands twice. A small girl in a hospital gown, one who looked strikingly similar to the demon girl, except she lived and had eyes behind her hair, stepped through a swinging door and into the dining area. She walked to the man's side.
"Yes?" she asked meekly.
"You have bandages with you, yes?" he asked.
She nodded timidly. "Yes, I do."
"Clean up this girl's arm. She's injured."
The little girl merely nodded and stepped to my side, pulling a strand of bandage wrapping from her pocket and wrapping it around my arm, but I had a sudden urge of fear that she may have stabbed me, and I pulled back.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked. "I'm so sorry."
"No, it's okay," I replied, and looked out the window to prevent any more scares as she finished her job. She quickly walked back to the stranger's side when she had done so.
"Bring us two of the specials. I'll pay for both," he told her, and she retreated, again, to the kitchen.
"Thank you," I said.
"Were you afraid she would stab you?" he asked, grinning.
"To an extent, yes," I said with a smile.
"I don't believe I've introduced myself formally," he started, when the small girl stepped back into the room with two rather large steaks on two plates in each hand. She placed them down and fled back to the kitchen.
"This looks so delicious. I wish I could repay you," I said, taking up my steak knife.
"Don't worry, my dear, you will," he said with a smirk, watching as I ate. I began to feel nervous.
I swallowed a large lump of the meat and smiled politely, trying to keep light conversation going. "So, what did you say your name was?"
"Walter," he said, taking the steak knife into his hand, "Walter Sullivan."