Brigits_Flame January Just-For-Fun Entry 02: Demons
“Who are you, and what the fucking hell are you doing in my flat?” he said to the signature in the shape of a man.
“AAAAAH!” the heat signature replied.
“Huh,” said Andy. The figure clutched at its own chest, then its thigh. Then it collapsed.
“O-okay,” Andy said.
Anthony woke up on a couch, and a young-looking, brown-skinned man in dark glasses, sitting in a nearby chair, offered him a cup of milky tea.
“Fancy a cuppa?” the man said.
Anthony’s face lit up. “Tea! I haven’t had tea in ages!”
“Um. And how long have you been in England, then?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“When was the last time you went off the Astral Plane, man? You don’t seem to handle gravity that well.”
Anthony blinked. “Am I that obvious?”
The young man, Andhaka, shrugged. “To the trained eye.”
“Where am I?”
Andy leaned back and said, as though reciting a postal code, “Loughton, Epping Forest, Essex.”
Anthony leaned forward.
Andy tilted his head, and then said, “… England.”
“Ah!”
Andhaka got up and returned with a plate of beets. “I’m not sure what the fuck to do with these, really. I just steam them and eat them.”
“What are they?”
“Beets.”
“Oh. We had to find some beets, once. That was a stupid assignment.”
“You find vegetables for a job?”
Anthony shook his head. “Not really? I mean, I used to. I just got fired.”
“Oh. Shame. Sorry, brother. Incidentally. I’m Andhaka. What’s your name?”
“Anthony. Saint Anthony.”
“Holy shit!” Andy’s face suddenly grew quite excited.
“What?”
“They told us about you. They told us about you when they laid off our department.”
“… Not you too!”
“What do you mean, too? You’re a legend, mate! They said ‘if you lot had only been like Saint Anthony’…”
“They booted my department the other day. We were outsourced to Bangalore.”
“… No,” said Andy. “That’s where Ganesh - ”
“Yes it is.”
“Aw, fuck, mate!”
Anthony shrugged, sadly, and took a sip of tea. “So what are you, then?”
“I’m an asura. S’like a demon.”
“What did you do for work?”
“I coded. But they said, and I quote, ‘a duck could code better than you’, and so they outsourced our department to - ”
“Oh, don’t tell me - ”
“Saint Cuthbert.”
“That fucker.”
“They said it was cheaper for the Heavenly Host to do it.”
“That’s what they said about Ganesh!”
“Huh.”
The two of them sat a long time without saying anything. A flock of ducks flew past the apartment; Anthony caught a glimpse of them through a window. An idea flared in his head like a struck match.
“Andy.”
“Mm.”
“I’ve got a dangerous notion.”
“What sort?”
Andy could not see, but a toothy smile spread across Anthony’s face; it was a smile that seemed to give him purpose. But not a good purpose.
“Revenge, Andy. Revenge.”
“AAAAAH!” the heat signature replied.
“Huh,” said Andy. The figure clutched at its own chest, then its thigh. Then it collapsed.
“O-okay,” Andy said.
Anthony woke up on a couch, and a young-looking, brown-skinned man in dark glasses, sitting in a nearby chair, offered him a cup of milky tea.
“Fancy a cuppa?” the man said.
Anthony’s face lit up. “Tea! I haven’t had tea in ages!”
“Um. And how long have you been in England, then?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“When was the last time you went off the Astral Plane, man? You don’t seem to handle gravity that well.”
Anthony blinked. “Am I that obvious?”
The young man, Andhaka, shrugged. “To the trained eye.”
“Where am I?”
Andy leaned back and said, as though reciting a postal code, “Loughton, Epping Forest, Essex.”
Anthony leaned forward.
Andy tilted his head, and then said, “… England.”
“Ah!”
Andhaka got up and returned with a plate of beets. “I’m not sure what the fuck to do with these, really. I just steam them and eat them.”
“What are they?”
“Beets.”
“Oh. We had to find some beets, once. That was a stupid assignment.”
“You find vegetables for a job?”
Anthony shook his head. “Not really? I mean, I used to. I just got fired.”
“Oh. Shame. Sorry, brother. Incidentally. I’m Andhaka. What’s your name?”
“Anthony. Saint Anthony.”
“Holy shit!” Andy’s face suddenly grew quite excited.
“What?”
“They told us about you. They told us about you when they laid off our department.”
“… Not you too!”
“What do you mean, too? You’re a legend, mate! They said ‘if you lot had only been like Saint Anthony’…”
“They booted my department the other day. We were outsourced to Bangalore.”
“… No,” said Andy. “That’s where Ganesh - ”
“Yes it is.”
“Aw, fuck, mate!”
Anthony shrugged, sadly, and took a sip of tea. “So what are you, then?”
“I’m an asura. S’like a demon.”
“What did you do for work?”
“I coded. But they said, and I quote, ‘a duck could code better than you’, and so they outsourced our department to - ”
“Oh, don’t tell me - ”
“Saint Cuthbert.”
“That fucker.”
“They said it was cheaper for the Heavenly Host to do it.”
“That’s what they said about Ganesh!”
“Huh.”
The two of them sat a long time without saying anything. A flock of ducks flew past the apartment; Anthony caught a glimpse of them through a window. An idea flared in his head like a struck match.
“Andy.”
“Mm.”
“I’ve got a dangerous notion.”
“What sort?”
Andy could not see, but a toothy smile spread across Anthony’s face; it was a smile that seemed to give him purpose. But not a good purpose.
“Revenge, Andy. Revenge.”