Post by StoryGirl83 on Aug 27, 2008 23:07:21 GMT -5
Chapter Nine – More Threats
and GalskaperGary was on campus in his dorm room. His roommate was out, so he had the room to himself for a while. He had two pictures sitting on his desk, two pictures he had been staring at for almost an hour.
One was a candid shot at a volleyball game that had been printed in the local paper. A red circle was drawn around Mark’s head.
The other was a color photo of a young girl barely in her teens wearing a bathing suit. She was giving the camera a big toothy grin.
He put the pictures down on the desk and sighed. “Oh, Arie. What do I do? I can’t let him kill you, but how can I kill that guy?”
Behind him a distortion appeared, forming into Galskaper. “Second thoughts don’t work, Mr. Johnson.”
Second thoughts, third thoughts, twenty-fifth thoughts. This goes way beyond second thoughts, Gary thought as he turned around to look at him. How does he just appear like that. It’s creepy.
“Just think,” Galskaper suggested, “of how your poor, dear sister will feel in the few moments before she dies, when she knows it is your fault she died.”
“Leave Arie out of this,” Gary yelled, rising to his feet.
“Tisk, tisk,” the demon scolded. “Temper, temper. Save that for Trudeau.”
“What did he do to you?” Gary wanted to know.
“Nothing,” Galskaper informed him, though he was a demon, so who knew the truth of it. “It’s merely business.”
“Then, leave me out of it,” Gary begged. I can’t do this. I can’t do what he wants. I can’t kill that guy. It’s wrong.
“No,” the demon told him simply. “We made a deal. If you ignore it, your sister will be dead at sunrise. Perhaps your brother the next, and someone else the day after that until everyone you care about it dead.” Galskaper shrugged. “Maybe then we’ll kill you. Not before.”
“Please!” Gary bagged, a bit more desperate. “This is wrong.”
Galskaper almost laughed at that. “What do I care wrong and right? Sunrise.” In another distortion, he shimmered away.
Gary stared at him, tears shimmering unshed in his eyes. He looked down at the pictures on his desk. “One man versus everyone I love. One death versus I know not how many. My soul in exchange for . . .” He dropped his head to the desk and let out a sound of frustration. Picking his head back up, he barely kept from screaming, and only to keep his neighbors from trying to find out what was going on. “What do I do?”
