The Vessel

Leonard Tafani. Although he’s a bother and not much of a threat, he’s somehow managed to evade the police for so long.

I turned my laptop on.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to kill people, but if I value my life, I suppose I’ll have to.

Searching Tafani’s name in a search engine, it wasn’t long until I found a picture of the man I wanted. He definitely looked the criminal sort; greasy brown hair, unattractive stubble and bloodshot eyes. Generally the way you’d picture a drug addict.

“But how do I kill you?” I whispered to myself. A gun, maybe? Or perhaps I’m meant to kill you with my bare hands. Wait... How am I supposed to know when to kill Tafani? Or where, even? I need time to think this over.

I turned my laptop off, deciding some fresh air would be the best thing to help me.

I didn’t live far from town, so I decided to walk there. After the ten minute walk, I realised I hadn’t had breakfast yet. There’s a nice little cafe a few streets down, I think I should go there before I starve.

I ordered a coffee and some toast from the cafe and went to find a table to sit down at, although I found myself unfortunate enough to not have a table as they were all occupied.

“Hey,” I heard a nearby voice say, “do you need a place to sit?” I turned around to face the man, and I nodded. “Come sit with me.”

“Thanks,” I smiled a little. Who is he? “I’m, um,” I hesitated a little bit; I’d had my name for such a short time that it sounded somewhat alien to me, “Ada.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ada, my name is,” he smiled back, but this one was about mischievous, “Damon.” What? Could this man really be the one telling me to kill? “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, snapping out of my mini trance. It would be best not to raise any suspicions to the matter, just in case this man isn’t the one that’s been talking to me. “I just had a dream about somebody named Damon last night.”

“A dream? What was it about?” I shook my head, as though to forget the matter.

“It doesn’t matter, really.”

“I’m sure it does. Trust me, I won't tell a soul. Hey, I could be known as a psychic, even. Sometimes I know these things.”

“Well, I don’t know exactly, I was told to-”

“To kill people?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“It’s no coincidence that my name is Damon, or even that I invited you to sit here with me, Ada Sato.”

“So you are the one that told me to... Do all that?” he nodded. He didn’t look the way I had expected him to; his hair was a dark blond and his eyes were sky blue. The only part that would have barely suggested that he wasn’t human was the simile people could make about his skin, as he was as pale as a vampire. “You don’t look quite as I would have imagined you.”

“When you can transport between worlds, you need to be able to take on a persona that will fit where you’re going.” A lady walked up to us and put two coffees down on the table. Damon took his and started drinking it.

“Why are you here, anyway?” I asked.

“I wanted to see how you would handle the situation.”

“But you can see me anyway, can’t you? Why do you need to be here in person?”

“I suppose,” he smiled, “that I should give you some help in this situation.”

“Help? Why would I need help?”

“Well, for starters, you’ve never done this before, have you? And with these new powers of yours, I think you’d need some help.”

“Powers? I don’t have powers, do I? I’m exactly the same as I was yesterday, and the week before.”

“Except for the eyes,” I nodded, “and the powers.”

“What powers? Damon, tell me.”

“It’s something you’ll have to figure out yourself. I can’t just teach you how to use your powers, can I? That wouldn’t be interesting at all.”

“Interesting? So this is just some cheap entertainment to you?”

“Well, if you put it that way, yes. But I warn you; if you don’t end these people, then it will be the end of you.” He really means it.

There was silence for a few seconds as we drank. During this time, my toast arrived, but I wasn’t quite in the mood for eating anymore.

“So what are you exactly?” I asked. He laughed again. It was always the same, that small, snickering kind of laugh that made you think what was so funny, and why he was laughing at you. “And why do you keep laughing at me?”

“Humans are so funny, that’s why I keep laughing at you. And what fun would this be if I just told you what I am? I could tell you all sorts of things, any of them could be a lie. So how about we keep this a little secret for now?” he checked a watch that had been discreetly hiding under his jacket. This was another thing that I found to be odd about him; he was dressed in a suit, as though he were going to a formal engagement or a meeting. “Come, if we wait any longer, we’ll be late.”

“Late for what?” he looked at me as he stood up, and smiled.

“Late for Leonard Tafani, of course.”