The Devil In The Alley

THE DEVIL IN THE ALLEY

It wasn’t long before I saw her again. She was standing in a dark alley, between the record store and the old barber shop, not two blocks away from our old apartment. I stood across the street, squinting against the street lights as they bounced off the wet pavement, enveloping her in a faint glow that seemed too constructed and perfect to be true. I guess she wasn’t an angel after all.
I soothed the ghosts from the past and coaxed them to sleep in the back of my head as I crossed the street, approaching you. I wasn’t sure if she’d smile when I looked in to her eyes once again; whether she’d say hello and embrace me as if no words of spite and heartbreak had been exchanged between us, or she’d crumble and cry on the spot as soon as I said something.
I put my thoughts aside for a moment to avoid a car that was driving rather recklessly in the empty street. The driver was staring at me as if I was the one who had done something wrong; cheeky bastard. Stopping to see what happened further down the road; I suddenly felt the cold breeze grasp my being and forced my hands to button up my coat. The rain came down harder now and I could barely make out the car as it raced around the corner and ran a red light. I saw other people turning their heads in confusion and some even gave a rude hand gesture the driver could enjoy in the rearview mirror.
Appalled as I was by the display of poor motoring I decided to let it go for now and attend to the matter of speaking to my former girlfriend. She was still standing in the alley, seemingly talking on her cell phone: something I couldn’t make out from my original spot across the street. I considered my options and quickly came to the conclusion that it would be rude of me to interrupt her conversation. As an added incentive, I didn’t want to come off as needy or anything like that. She couldn’t know that since our break up my life consisted mostly of dirty blues music, cheap cigarettes and horrible whiskey. Even I had trouble recognizing how tragic and pathetic my life had become.
Trying not to think about it I looked over at her and saw her hang up and put her phone in her pocket. I had to move fast. Without any further thought I stepped in to the alley and in a loud, clear voice I spoke.
“Hi.” I said. She turned her head and a look of surprise came over her face. She was wearing a grey woolen coat, it looked brand new and I didn’t recall ever seeing it before. I did however recognize her boots, her black boots with heels making her a couple of inches taller. She had on her usual black jeans with her white homemade scarf carefully wrapped around her neck. Her cheeks were red, suggesting she had been out in the cold wind for some time now.
“Oh, hi Jeff!” she replied. She tucked her hair behind her ears, something she always did when she was uncomfortable. For a brief moment I hated the fact that I knew that.
“So, how you been?” I asked, pretending I didn’t recognize the tension.
“I’ve been good, well, as good as can be expected.” She answered. I saw a flicker in her eyes; she missed me. I was certain that was what it stood for; she missed the hell out of me.
“How about you, Jeff?” she asked me, keeping a distance between us. I smiled and nodded.
“I’ve been good too. Work is good, family is great.” I mumbled, hinting that I wanted the pleasantries to end. “So, what have you been up to?” I pressed on. She looked down, her eyes inspecting the pavement.
“Nothing special, I mean…I’ve sort of been looking for a place.” I smiled at her as she went on about her endless search for apartments. There weren’t any good ones out there, she told me. She was thinking about renting a small loft just until the market got better. I felt my stare loosen and my eyes went wandering, studying her features. Even though I had had the pleasure of exploring her body free of any clothing, it was something alluring about looking at her body now, when it wasn’t mine to enjoy anymore.
“So how is the old place?” she asked and I found it hard to break my stare. I could tell she noticed I was gazing at her.
“It’s good…I mean it’s not the same without you, but you know…” I said, bit surprised at how sincere I was being; I hadn’t planned on being so forthright. The whole idea was to let her believe that I was doing great. “I’m thinking about getting a dog, to fill the space.” She let out a small chuckle. I decided to let her think it was a joke and move on. I returned her laughter and a small part of me enjoyed the fact that the two of us were acting happy again. I didn’t want to admit it, but that same part of me wanted to ask her to come back to me right there and then.
“I’ve missed you.” She said suddenly and a bolt of lightning struck my core. Confirmation at last; she missed me. I knew it.
“I’ve missed you too.” I answered. I wanted to say more, to let her know that I wanted her back, but a look in her eyes stopped me. It was like she was saying, “Please, don’t.” I took a step closer, as if to challenge her, to force something out of this conversation, an answer.
“I’ve been thinking…” I began, ignoring the look she was giving me. “What ever happened to us?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean…we were so happy, Erica. What happened to us?”

She took a few steps back and folded her arms across the chest. She didn’t appear angry or anything, it was just another of her antics. She would fold her arms and avoid eye contact whenever she didn’t feel comfortable talking about something.
“You know what happened, Jeff.” She said in a low voice. “You know why we couldn’t be together…”

I resented her tone now, but I let it go. Something in me screamed, no, begged me to ask her to come back to me, to come back in to my life again and make it all right. My mask had fallen now, she could see straight through the wall of confidence I so desperately put up. Flashes of memory surged through me as she kept on moving away. My legs followed, forced me to battle the distance between us. I recalled the night it all had gone to hell, the fight of all fights, when we had screamed at the top of our lunges, called each other horrible names and attacked one another in the cruelest of ways.
“I’m sorry…” I said; my voice distant and low, my eyes fixated on the ground. I slowly raised my gaze until our eyes locked. I saw that she was beginning to well up and I suspected a tear was threatening to be born. She was breathing more heavily now.
“Listen – “she began, “can we meet here tomorrow? There’s something I’ve been meaning to – “
“Of course.” I interrupted. I took a breath and weighed her words. This was a good thing, right? She wanted to see me again, tomorrow. I smiled at her, and she returned it. It wasn’t the most sincere smile I had ever seen, but I accepted it. She nodded and asked me to be in the alley at four o’clock tomorrow afternoon, straight after work. I should have seen the signs. The way she was ending the conversation so hastily, so quickly; she was trying to get rid of me. But, something inside me covered up my eyes to shield me from the truth. I wish to God that had never happened.

The next day was much like the previous; the weather was still awful and the streets were still full of irresponsible drivers honking their horns at everyone daring enough to cross the road. I was happy, though, because I was going to get my love back, she was going to forgive me, I felt sure of it. I fooled myself to believe that it wasn’t tears I saw in her eyes as she stood there waiting for me in the alley, that it was happiness I saw in her face.
I had dreamt about the moment the previous night; I dreamt about her saying that she had forgiven me for what I done and that she wanted me back, that she needed me in her life, just as much as I needed her. I had heard her say the three words I longed to hear, “I love you.” I had seen her smile as I grew closer and I saw myself kiss her gently; we were happy again.
“Forget about the past, Jeff. What’s done is done.” She had said. “I know you didn’t mean to…you were upset, drunk; the liquor made you do it.” She explained to me. I nodded and replied that it was exactly what I had been saying to her all along. She said that she knew now, that she knew how important she was to me and how much I loved her.
Sadly for me, that’s where the dream ended. The reality was different, to a point most cruel.
The degree of sadness in her face was beyond anything I had ever seen before and I knew right there and then that she were going to break my heart once again. I approached her slowly and gazed at her, my eyes watering even before she had begun to speak. I saw the box in her hands, the box that contained the last of my possessions. The box had been left there over at her parents’ house one summer years ago. We always said that we were going to get it, but we never did.

“I wanted to return this to you.” She said, I could hear how she was struggling to even speak. “It’s been driving me crazy, looking at it every day.” She extended her arms and without thinking I took it. It was like my body was trying to end the conversation right there, like it was begging me to turn around and leave her. But something made me linger; anger.
“So, you’re not going to take me back?” I snarled at her. A look of disgust came over her and she took a few steps back, something she had made a habit of lately.
“Why would you ever think that I would?” she exclaimed, apparently appalled over the mere thought of such an thing ever happening.
“You asked me to come here, you said there was something you wanted – “
“– to give you, Jeff!” she interrupted. “I wanted to give you your stupid box! You didn’t even let me finish talking last night!”
She was angry now. Her face got red and she walked in a half circle around me, trying to put as much space between us as possible, seeking the comfort of having the sparsely populated street behind her as opposed to a concrete wall. “I never want to see you again, Jeff!” she bellowed.

“Baby, what are you saying?” I cried, tears rolling down my cheeks now. I couldn’t believe the malice in her voice. My heart was breaking now; I could almost feel the pieces dropping in my chest. The rain intensified as her voice described in vivid, awful precision the details of my unspeakable crime; my actions that morbid night as our argument had come to a violent and unholy conclusion. The wind carrying the sound of the death sentence she condemned me to and wished upon me.
It was then that my body again resorted to evil doings. As she kept on screaming at me, cursing me, exposing my true nature for all innocent pedestrians passing by to hear. Darkness grew around me and my lunges became pressed for air. I felt my arms grab hers and I felt a familiar thump as her body crashed against my chest, the vibrations on my throat as her voice let out a muffled scream for help. She bit down hard on my neck, but the pain merely fueled my rage as I threw her to the ground. The eerie sound her head hitting the pavement did nothing to stop my body from pressing down on her and soon my hands found her throat.

She was barely conscious as I pressed both my thumbs on her windpipe; the natural resistance was tough to break and as a result I placed the full weight on my body on her neck. She was struggling now; her eyes wide open in a silent panic, her legs kicking and her torso desperately trying to wiggle its way free from underneath me. She fought and fought for her life, and the moment seemed to drag on forever, though the dark veil that was drawn to separate me from the wonderful world of reason and bliss did not falter but kept on subduing me in the state of vicious violence I now found myself in.
The sound of her windpipe finally breaking and the feel of life leaving her body snapped me back to reality and the veil was now finally drawn aside. Silence was all that ventured now. The sound of my own heartbeat filled the alley and as I scanned the area I saw the devil at work: there was no one around to have witnessed my crime.
As I slowly let go of her throat and unwillingly examined the red marks of my fingers, I realized what I truly had become; a monster. I had fulfilled my journey through the valley of twilight and I was now entering the realms of true evil, true darkness. I had taken the life of the woman I loved more than anything else. How could I?

Tears fell down my cheeks, my stomach growled and finally I vomited on the ground beside the freshly made corpse. Sickened and disgusted at what I had done I got to my feet, wiping my mouth with a trembling hand. Time was moving slowly now, as if it was a part of my punishment already befallen me. All around me was shadows in the dark; concealed but still visible; demons gathering to welcome me in to their evil ranks of death and destruction. Hooded they appeared in the corners of the alley and it became clear to me; I was now on the very threshold of hell itself.

As I spun around holding my head in my hands I saw it; a solution, the only solution. During the struggle, my dead beloved had dropped the box containing my belongings. It lay but a few feet away from her hips. The lid had been cast aside and its contents was now spilling out on to the ground; a picture of me and her together, some old books and at last, my way out. It had belonged to my father and was passed down to me as a family heirloom; a knife. It had a wooden handle and the blade curled beautifully. I remembered briefly of how dearly my father had loved that knife. He had used it mainly for hunting and had told once to treasure it and use it wisely.
Now was the time; I had found for it a purpose. As the demons sneered in the corner and egged me on, begged me to end it all, I picked up the knife and gazed at it. It shone in the dark, drops of rain caressing it, cleansing it for my purpose. It weighed down in my hand, as if my life was now reduced in to a single decision. To live or not to live.
But it wasn’t a decision, not in my mind. There weren’t words to describe the extent of the evil I had imposed on the world, and yet, it was all crystal clear in my mind. I had ended the life of the woman I loved, and for that unspeakable act, there was only one valid currency to pay for this crime; my life.

And it was to the beat of demons clapping, celebrating the birth of my death that I took the knife of my father and slit my own throat. It was ice; at least that’s what it felt like; ice cold and then warmth; my blood spilling down my chest and finally pooling at the ground. Dizzy and alone I fell to my knees, feeling it was harder to breathe now. I looked upon my beloved one last time; her glasslike eyes staring out in to space, her mouth wide open in a distorted smile. It was then as I turned on to my back and gazed in to the dawning night, I saw the devil in the distance, extending his arms out to greet me, welcoming me in to the fire.
He smiled and caressed my cheek. He whispered to me what eternity had in store for me and it was not of any pearly gates he spoke. It was blood, torture and death; for anyone else, but for me, for the rest of the existence of time, I was to relieve what I had done and for each time the pain would get worse and worse until there was nothing left of my soul but torn apart strings clinging to my skeleton.

It wasn’t long before I saw her again. She was standing in an alley, between the record store and the old barber shop, not two blocks from our old apartment. I stood across the street squinting against the street lights as they bounced off the wet pavement, enveloping her in a faint glow that seemed too constructed and too perfect to be true. I guess she wasn’t an angel after all.