Keith’s House, Time before abduction. Inspectors point of view.
With the first smoke, heralded the second. The manifested smoke line was still a little thin barely visible to my eyes. I started smoking the second puff as it reminded me of how she had uttered my name, when I saw the sparkle in her eyes, I couldn’t look away and, and……
My face must have looked devastated, as the long thread of quiet gray coalesces, as the last spire of gray birds trembled for a final flutter to make a line from the cigarette and with a puff the cigarette came undone. I sighed out a smoke ring coasting into the line, while staring enamored by the mystical thread of smoke that lite a path. A sudden draught blew a small portion flowing into my nostrils, and once again I felt my dearest, with her tobacco lips, how bittersweet this is.
“Just ten more, I’ll be done for good and follow her footsteps.”
As I left my rumination, I walked with quickened pace lest the wind blows all the smoke away and leaves me wasting more of my precious smokes. Following this line to the staircase, every step I took, the creaking grew louder and made me cautious with each step. Finally, making it to the top, I find myself in an empty floor, lacking any décor, no windows, nothing but a door standing forlorn in the middle of this room.
No support beams, no concepts nearby, it was either an abstract art piece or a work of a paranormal. I do hope it is the former but to my dismay, its opening on its own.
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3rd Pov
Contrary to the inspector’s expectation, a woman emerged from the door. He lit alight another one of his puffs, as he stood mesmerized by her eyes, the same shade that billowed from his own cigarette, a deep gray.
As she took a step out the door, her hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose, dark waves, he squinted his eyes, the hair was fake, tendrils of plastic attached to her head. He felt her presence blared insults to the world, her glassy eyes that reflected her disinterest, and prosthetic smile.
“Prosthetic demon.”
His eyes drooped and his scowl deepened, everything about her seemed artificial, every emotion that graces her face seemed fake. He had met his maker, a demon of prosthetic limbs. And then, without a word she extended her hands towards him, a provocation and a challenge.
With a click of his tongue, he took off his overcoat, not before pulling out a new pack of cigarettes and his trusty knuckle dusters, and drawing in a sharp, forceful inhalation from the cigarette. His wrinkled cheeks were puffed up and he exhaled spewing large amount of smoke from his mouth, filling the room with it. Dropping the used-up cigarette on the floor, he raised his fists, now equipped with knuckle dusters.
The demon unfurled her right arm turning it into a large fan, and swung at the air. Not a second behind, the inspector clenched his fist harder with a crack as the surrounding smoke condensed to become a broken spiderweb of black smoke and separated with the air to become walls that encapsulated the rivers of connected and bisected air.
As the wind blasted to the surroundings, it effected naught of the smoke, going into the rivers of air and with a sigh of trepidation, the inspector clenched harder making blood seep from his palms, closing the entries of the air rivers, he started compressing the smoke as well as the air inside, increasing their temperature. She lunged at his concentrating figure.
Appearing in front of him, she punched out with her left arm. In a feat of instinct, he dodged. The smoke cloud expanded rapidly along with the air. It brought sounds of wind soughing and reverberating through the room, like a sacrament taking place in bedlam scene of battle, starting with the root note, an overture of a pipe organ piano played with its horn belching. Seeming to be nailed to an out of time tune. The smoke was once again blocking her sight yet she still saw the faint outline of his body through the smoke, with a twirl of her feet she blasted towards the still silhouette.