Runaway Devil

Once I was out of sight I unfolded my wings. They had been tucked neatly against my back all day, and they were getting twitchy. My wingspan was about five and a half feet, and I estimated that I still had a bit more to go before they stopped growing. They already reached a little past my shins, and I knew that they would drag behind me once they were fully matured. They were heavy but comforting, and they have never faltered. I could trust them.

I looked around quickly and dropped the glamour on my wings, shaking them out. They blended in with the night, which is why I was only comfortable with exposing them. When my wings are glamoured, they aren’t necessarily invisible. They are more unnoticeable. I always have to make a decision between hiding them or just throwing a glamour over them. If I focus I can absorb them into my back, with great effort. But it was much easier to shield them from the human eye since it was a simple mechanism to trick. In small spaces, it was best to absorb them, since the chances of someone brushing up against them were higher. I shook them out and let them lift me from the sidewalk.

The air weaved itself in and out of my now grown out hair. I had decided to grow it out, making on an outward statement that I was not going to war. Almost like I was retired. The feeling of hair, at first, was unbearable. It felt unnecessary and in the way all the time. But I grew to love it, even with its impracticality. I held out my arms like a child on their parent’s shoulders, feeling the air move around me. My chest let out the built-up pressure of the day and I smiled sleepily. My head felt high enough to reach the clouds, and my soul felt light.

As I approached my apartment building I transitioned from flying to walking. The building had a single outside light, and it wasn’t in the parking lot. If one could even call it that. There was a small area around back where maybe someone could fit their car. The light was out front, by the entrance. It was old and had accumulated years of grime and dead bugs. It was dim since all the bug corpses caked the surface of the bulb cover. My apartment was on the third floor, it was- how should I put this?- a disgusting hovel. But, it was dirt cheap, which was exactly what I was looking for. It was relatively abandoned, with the exception of me and a hand full of other people. I hadn’t figured out how the landlord was able to pay his bills with such little people living in that building, and while charging practically nothing for rent. He was scummy but had a room, so I took it. It was dirty and stained, but it was home. I pushed open the front doors and was met by the stale stench of the building. I climbed the stairs to the third floor since the elevators hadn’t ever worked.

The bulbs flickered in the hallway and the walls were covered in questionable stains. I usually tried not to think about what or who put them there, or what they were. I pulled out my keys and shoved them into the lock. My door was green and its paint was chipping, and to top it off, one of the numbers on my door was hanging loose. The twelve had turned into a sad “one” and a “two”.

Balan barked a couple of times, warning the intruder that there was a home security system. His bark was deep and big. His bite, though, was even more powerful. He had the strength and training to kill someone with swift precision. I had made him look like a mastiff, it was the closest form to his original. I had downsized him as well because a dog the size of a small horse who looked mean was concerning. ”Oh hush,” I said as I dropped my bag in the kitchen. His tail was thick and tight, so as he wagged it, it felt like a lashing every time it hit my leg. I was just as happy to see him, I had been looking forward to coming home all day. I bent over and finally paid attention to him. His face was split into a panting grin, and he whined deeply in his throat. ”Alright, dinner time,” I chuckled when he quickly sat next to his bowl, obediently waiting. His tail did not stop wagging and drool pooled on the floor when he saw me open the fridge. I grabbed a hunk of cow shoulder and opened it, chucking the packaging. Balan lived on a carnivorous diet, his body ran itself on protein. His natural biological makeup had him naturally eating wild game, actually, so I had thought that various meats, none human, would suffice. ”You’ve been waiting for this all day haven’t you?” I smiled at him and set it in his large metal bowl. He always takes it out and gnaws at it on the floor. It felt more natural that way. He looked from me to the meat and back again. I grabbed his second metal bowl and refilled it with cold tap water, and set it back down, inevitably spilling some. ”Go,” I said and he attacked the meat. He lifted it from the bowl and slapped it onto the floor. I chuckled and promised myself I would clean up later. ”Have fun,” I said with my back to him. I grabbed my bag and dropped it next to the couch as I sat down, getting out whatever homework I had to do.

The lights throughout the apartment flickered as I heard a door slam down the hall. I sighed and focused for the next couple of hours, getting done what I could.

Four hours later, the clock in my kitchen read eleven forty, and my eyes drooped. I stretched with my hands above my head accompanied by a groan. Balan was sedated from the cow shoulder and was belly up, his jowls flopped over his face, and breathing evenly. I smiled at his sleeping figure, it was almost unbelievable that he was a killing machine, just like me. ”Balan,” He snorted and twitched, but didn’t move from his spot on the floor. I chuckled and got up with a huff, walking over to him carefully. ”Hey, come to bed lazy-bones,” I softly pet his face and watched his eyes open, still foggy. I walked down the hall, stripping and dropping clothing on the way. By the time I got to my bedroom, I was left in my underwear and a sock. I deemed this good enough and dropped onto the bed. Balan followed, making the bed dip, and snuggled close to my side. He was my own personal furnace, 160 pounds of pure space heater. I practically purred and didn’t so much drift to sleep, more like it hit me with a brick.

My alarm woke me after ten minutes of going off. It had started at 5:30 but when I looked over my shoulder it read 5:43. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the darkness was encouraging me to remain in bed. Balan had warmed it and it felt counter-intuitive to get up. He grumbled, sprawled out, as I sat up. ”Come on, get up. Or we’ll be here all day," I said as my feet met the cold floor. ”Fuck,” I groaned again while rubbing my face, a signature morning sound. Balan stayed in bed. Now that I had gotten up, he had more room and would love the monopoly he had over it. He fell right back to sleep with a small growl.

I muddled into the kitchen and started the coffee maker. While the coffee was brewing, I numbly looked around my kitchen. There was a small half wall separating the kitchen and the living room, where the old carpet started at the edge, a sharp transition to stained tile. I sighed heavily and stretched again, this time a couple of things popping. I swayed in the kitchen as I grabbed some eggs. Food was fuel and had been ever since I started my service. Small pleasantries weren't expected, and not often appreciated in hell. I had never known comfort, only small periods of rest, training, and battle.

I took a deep breath and grabbed a chipped mug from the old cabinet. I shivered as I set it next to the coffee maker and went to go get dressed. I walked back to the kitchen, with my eyes practically closed, and poured some haphazardly into the mug. It was one of the things in the human world that I didn’t mind so much. The people were less than savory, but the little things usually kept my sanity in check. I had Balan, and coffee.

I downed my cup without a second thought. The heat was comforting and familiar. I purred as the coffee warmed my whole body, and walked to the bathroom with a small smile.

I was quick in the shower, within 5 minutes. There was no need for it to be any longer, I wasn’t made of money, and some aspects of the armed forces just didn’t leave a person. I still had tendencies that reflected my time as a soldier. I shook the thought away and washed my hair. I reminded myself that I had hair, long hair, which was symbol enough to comfort me. No more buzzed head. No more war. No more death.

After I was dressed I lightly shook Balan awake. As he stirred I slipped on my old chucks. ”Balan, come.” I said. On my way out I grabbed my travel mug and poured the rest of the coffee in it. I took my coffee black, I did not have a sweet tooth in the slightest. Balan trotted into the kitchen and stretched while yawning, showing off his threatening teeth. I smiled down at him and grabbed my bag. He slowly made his way over to the side table by the door and grabbed my keys with his careful front teeth. He came back to me and I lightly grasped them, hooking them onto my belt loop. I took another sip of coffee as I closed the door, Balan behind me.