Balcony

I was visited by Jack again.

I was in my apartment, on the balcony, looking out over the city. I was thinking about Arnold, thinking about how he could have been out there somewhere. I was interrupted from my lingering thoughts by an overwhelming feeling of heat pushing against my back. I knew, after a few seconds, that Jack had manifested behind me.

“What do you want…?” I asked, without turning to face him.

“You noticed me! You always surprise me with that, James.”

He walks up next to me and leans against the balcony like I was. He holds a cigar ajar in his mouth and the light from the city bounces off his dark glasses. The smoke drifts across my face but I try to ignore it. Jack looks over the city, mimicking me.

“It really is a nice view you have of the city, James.”

I don’t reply.

We stand there for a few moments together. I feel my head grow hot with anger, but I do my best to snuff it out and keep calm.

Jack takes the cigar out of his mouth, snaps his fingers, and points at a man walking across the street.

“That man? Dead. He’ll be dead in twenty four hours.”

I can’t help but ask why.

“Wooden gi-“

Before he could even finish saying her name, I had already started to react. I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the balcony barrier.

“She’s here!? Where!!” I screamed.

“Oh, not so stoic, eh? Where, you ask? I don’t think I know. Maybe if you handed me your so-“

I punched him in the gut.

“Goddammit, don’t you dare play with me!!!”

He coughs, and then begins to laugh.

“Oh James, you know pain won’t work on me. You know threatening won’t work. You think you’re so tough right now, eh? You think you’re on top. You got me by the collar here. Any normal human passing by can see that you supposedly have the upper hand. But we both know the truth. That, if I wanted to?

I could tear you limb from limb and toss your head to the streets below for the hobos to claim.”

His Bostonian accent was abandoned halfway through his speech there. It had been replaced by some sort of whispered growl. His face had changed as well. What had been the face of a middle to older aged man with grayed hair changed into a demonic, contorted face with threatening eyes.

I could see a thousand possible fates for me in his eyes, but there was only one they were set on; the consumption of my soul.

I let go of him. There was no use. He wouldn’t tell me unless I listened to him.

And because of that, for a moment, I almost considered doing exactly that.

“Get out of here, Jack. I’m not selling my soul for any information. Not tonight.”

“As you wish, James…”

Jack seemed to have quit talking, so I began to walk inside. Before I closed my door completely, he began to speak again.

“Your friend Arnold isn’t dead. Not yet.”


Before I could turn around and ask about it, Jack had already left.