Dancing With The Devil

"T-Tim?" I croak out, still trying to get him to move as he's pinning me to the wall. His entire weight is pushed on me now, pinning me to the wall in a much different way. Since he had lifted me up so high, when I try to lower my feet, they don't touch the ground.

"N-No," I grunt as I begin to have trouble moving my arms. This time it's not because of Tim's weight but because I my arms are as heavy as elephants. They fall to my sides, where no matter how I try, I can't lift them.

"HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!" A crazed, enraged man's voice suddenly shouts. The edges of my vision start to get very fuzzy and dark now, which has nothing to do with the night. My vision then starts to pulse, where it fades in and out of focus.

"Tom?" I then try as ask as I see Tom standing there, face red and looking utterly deranged. His entire body looks to be huffing as if just slaughter an entire army by himself. And he wears a look of complete and utter rage that barely lets him look like himself. For the first time ever, Tom looks dangerous.

"Tim was supposed to be mine," Tom says, but not to me. The way he says it is like he's telling the world. But what I hear most is how his voice is dripping with sadness. There's such sadness in it you would think everyone he ever loved all died at the same time.

"Tim...was..." Tom says, staring at the back of Tim. He then reaches out a hand to touch his friend, but before he does, Tim's knees give out to which he and I both crash down to the ground. I fall all the way to my butt and Tim crumples to his knees, his body going limp as it lays over me.

There's no doubt about it. Tim is dead. Dead. And as the last bits of my body becomes cold and heavy, I believe that I'm about to die as well. The truth that Tom stabbed us with a rebar seems so foreign that my brain doesn't want to accept it. But there's no denying that there's an iron bar through Tim and my body.

"I see you found your truth," a familiar voice says. That dark, silky voice seems to fill the dark and cold alley with light, even if nothing has changed. Only instead of being sexy, that voice sounds mocking. Like a con man revealing his plot after he's pulled it off, knowing there's nothing you can do.

With my fading vision, I see The Devil walk into my sight. He is as he was inside, wearing the exact same clothes and smile. Only he isn't looking at me, but at Tom. In fact he steps next to Tom, who is still staring at Tim's dead body.

As I find it hard to breath, more truth occurs to me. Just as The Devil had talked to me, he must have talked to Tom. He may not have revealed he was The Devil, maybe because he wouldn't need to. Just as I wanted Tim, the same could have been true of Tom. I did have moments of thinking he might have been gay, but I didn't really care. But I never knew that he had a thing for Tim, much like he probably didn't know I did.

A rush of emotions flood into me at the realization that The Devil fixed it so Tom would catch us fucking. It makes me feel like a fly in a hurricane, where my lack of understanding is laughable. That true evil does indeed exist, and he's far more powerful than anyone could comprehend.

"Tim," Tom then says in utter despair, looking and sounding as if his entire world is over. Then, with a speed I never thought he could muster, Tom pulls out his revolver...and shoots himself in the temple.

A thunderous sound comes out, echoing around the small alley. With the sound, Tom splatters the wall opposite from me with his blood. And then Tom's body drops over, as dead as Tim. As if in irony, he falls opposite of Tim, as if his body is so ashamed of what he's done he can't even be near Tim in death.

Finding I can no longer breathe, I notice that The Devil is no longer in my sight. Unable to move anything, even my eyes, I try hard to see if the bastard is somewhere nearby. I don't know why this is so important to me at the moment, but it is. It feels like I have to find him.

In the very corner of my dark, faded vision, I catch sight of The Devil. This time when I see him, there's no doubt it who and what he is.

He's at the far end of this alley, way at the end. It's him, I know it is, even if he no longer looks the same. For now, he's completely different. Now he looks like what he is supposed to look like.

As my lungs refuse to take in any oxygen, I watch The Devil dancing. In a barely humanoid pitch black shape, he dances like a king's jester, slamming his feet down over and over after picking his knees up in the most disturbing sort of move I've ever seen. While dancing, he swings his clawed hands over his head side to side, as if about to rip apart from fallen animal he caught.

Seeing this is the most sinister thing I have ever seen.

And as all goes black, I hear his laughter.