The sky was covered with a sea of dark grey clouds. They were sheer, but enough to block out the sun. It wasn’t going to rain, but it was going to be dark. Because of this, Shayla did not wake up until half past noon. The thing that woke her up was the cold air in the space where Grace had been lying. Shayla sat up and looked around. Grace was nowhere to be seen. She stood and rolled the bag up. The street was holding its breath. The few pedestrians that trod upon it seemed to glide like ghosts. It was as if they were afraid of disturbing the stillness. Like they were being watched.
Shayla walked through the murky, quiet street with a bit of unease and uncertainty. She wasn’t quite worried, but her gut told her that something was askew. She credited it to Grace’s absence. The more she walked, the more she was reminded of her first day without Grace. The first time she braced the streets of an unforgiving city by herself. The way her misery flowed through her veins like blood. Today had all the same tones. This did not disturb Shayla as much as she thought it would, however. She was queasy. No doubt about that, but not distressed by any means.
As she walked, a police car flew by her. Then an ambulance. Then another police car. Their sirens wailed an unharmonious symphony. Shayla didn’t think much of it and continued walking. The sound of the vehicles faded and echoed into the distance. Melting into the background noise of the city. Another color on the canvas of sounds. A painting Shayla was familiar and yet still enchanted with.
Her stomach growled at the smell of a nearby steakhouse. She looked in at the people inside with their sirloins and T-bones and rib-eyes. A steady pool of drool threatened to leak out of her mouth. Shayla walked faster to distance herself from the divine scent. She then noticed that the sound of the sirens was growing louder. They must have stopped somewhere nearby.
The sound continued to crescendo until she could see the ambulance and police cars parked in front of an alleyway. They blocked the sidewalk on her side of the street, so she crossed over. By now, Shayla had seen this kind of thing a thousand times, but this time, she felt compelled to watch. Some deep voice in her head told her that she had to see the body.
The EMT’s were loading the body onto a stretcher. Shayla stopped to watch them cover it. She, judging by the size and curves of the body, had long auburn hair that cascaded off the side of the stretcher and into a nearby puddle. They covered the body with a pale sheet and raised the stretcher. As they lifted it into the ambulance, a cop approached her.
“You see anything?” she asked as she pulled out a notepad and pen.
Shayla shook her head.
“It’s a damn shame,” she said, “We lug dead bums off the street all the time. Overdose mostly, but this girl was an obvious suicide.”
Shayla looked at the cop, “What happened?”
“Slit her wrists with a piece of glass. From hand to elbow,” she drew a straight line on her own arm, “Worst part is, she’s a Jane Doe. No ID. No family. No friends. No one to mourn her. Just another body in an alley. Isn’t that horrible?”
The image of Grace’s corpse flashed behind her eyes, “Yeah… hey. Do you think it would be alright if I saw the body?”
“What for?”
She shrugged, for she really didn’t know why, “Just curious I guess.”
The officer squinted her eyes at her then sighed, “Not really supposed to, but I guess.”
She hailed an EMT over. The one who must have been in charge came over. They spoke in private but looked at Shayla the entire time. After a few moments, the EMT approached her with his arms crossed.
“So, you wanna see the corpse?” he asked.
Shayla nodded.
“Why?”
Shayla thought for a moment, then the feeling in her chest made sense, “I haven’t seen my partner all morning. I just want to make sure it’s not her.”
The EMT shrugged, “Guess it couldn’t hurt anything.”
He turned back towards the ambulance and beckoned her to follow him. He climbed in first then offered Shayla his hand to help her up.
“What the fuck’s a civilian doin’ in here?” the driver asked.
“Stand down,” he said, “She just wants to take a quick peek to make sure it’s not her friend.”
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The driver rolled his eyes and turned around. Then, the head EMT nodded at one of the underlings. He folded the sheet back further than he should have. Everyone in the ambulance could see not only the face of a beautiful young lady, but the deep, jagged cuts up her arms. There was so much intention in the wounds. You could almost see her concentrated face of pain as she dug the shard of glass from her wrist to her elbow. Shayla was so focused on the gory lines on the arms that she forgot her purpose.
“So, do you know her?” the head asked.
Shayla shook herself out of the daze the cuts had put her in and moved her eyes up the body. When she reached the face, she stopped and let out a choked gasp. It was Grace. She stared at her face. It was paler than it was when she found her dead the first time, probably from blood loss. Her hair was ratty, in her face, and dripping puddle water. Shayla had to stop herself from pulling her hair aside and kissing her forehead. But she couldn’t.
She shook her head with wide eyes still locked on the body. One of the EMT’s helped her off the ambulance and slammed the door shut behind her. Shayla stood on the sidewalk in front of the alley and stared at the pool of blood by the dumpster. She stared until the ambulance and cops were long gone. She didn’t notice the footsteps coming towards her until a man tapped her shoulder. She flinched and the man jumped back.
“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Shayla took a few deep breaths, “It’s okay.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, “You seem distressed.”
She glanced back at the blood, then turned her eyes to the man, “Yeah. I’m fine. Just a little shocked I guess.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “You never quite get used to it.”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Do you want to come over for some tea? It’ll calm your nerves,” he said.
She hesitated, but that same voice from the night she got kidnapped came back.
What do I have to lose?
“Sure,” she said.
He put out his arm and she took it. They walked down the alley. Then turned down another alley. And another. The buildings seemed to be getting taller, and Shayla was beginning to feel a tingling sensation all over her body. The hairs on her arm and back of her neck stood up. But she didn’t feel scared. She was too apathetic for fear. Too sad for worry.
The alleyways were becoming darker at every turn. Shayla remained unphased until she couldn’t feel the man’s arm in her hands anymore. She didn’t feel him pull away. It was as if he had vanished in thin air.
“Hello,” she said to the darkness.
Her voice echoed in every direction. A chill ran down her spine as the temperature plummeted. Then came an eerie and familiar laugh. It bounced off the unseeable walls and filled her head. Shayla’s heart stopped.
“Come on. No more games.”
At that, the sconces illuminated the same stone room she had been in the day before. And standing in the middle of the room was Lucifer. His arms were crossed.
“You’re no fun,” he said.
“Why did you take her from me?” she said, “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“I didn’t take her,” he said, “She took herself. Just like the first time.”
“Why?” she said, “Why would she do that?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he raised an eyebrow, “She’s not happy.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “But to me it’s pretty obvious. How could she be happy when she’s sleeping on the streets and begging for loose change. Never knowing where her next meal is coming from. If I were her, I’d’ve killed myself too.”
“But we were together,” she said.
“On the streets,” he said, “But I can fix that and bring her back no problem.”
“No way,” she said, “I’m not killing anyone else.”
“Why not?” he said, “This will literally solve your problem and hers. You don’t want to live without her, and she doesn’t want to live without a roof over her head. It’s a win-win.”
Shayla shook her head.
“Doesn’t Grace deserve to live a happy life?”
Shayla let the idea sit with her for a moment. The thought twisted her head into knots. Everything was pulling against each other, and nothing was coming loose. She closed her eyes and tried to digest the idea. It felt like her head was going to explode. She let out a long, agonized cry. When it ended, she was panting and glaring at her adversarial savior.
“Fine.”
Lucifer gave her a wide smile revealing a mouth of perfect, straight, white teeth, “Excellent.”
“Who is it this time?” she sighed.
“Her name is Chastity Baker,” he said, “You don’t know her well, but she’s a barista at Center Street Coffeehouse. She got fired for giving you a bagel.”
“She did?”
Shayla remembered the barista very well.
Lucifer nodded, “She did indeed.”
“Where can I find her?”
“You’ll find her address on the vial,” he pulled it out of his suit pocket and tossed it to her.
Shayla stared at the vial. The address written on it was familiar to her. It was an apartment she had passed hundreds of times. One that she had dreamed of living in since leaving Idaho. She pocketed the vial and closed her eyes.