How the Heart Beats

Headquarters was a large, plain building that appeared outwardly as if it housed any other corporation one could find in New York. The inside, however, was an elaborate maze or rooms that led into one another. Seb led me from a large sparring area, through a more closed off weaponry and eventually to an elevator. He took me to his office and had me sign a contract before anything else, which I of course looked over thoroughly before adorning it with my signature. The rest of the tour was brief and not what I’d expected; I didn’t see half of the rooms, but he told me essentially where everything was and I had no complaints. I was confident that having to figure things out on my own wouldn’t be a big deal. It could, after all, have been worse.

My subordinates consisted of a handful of regular soldiers and two apprentices, Nick and Katie, who followed me everywhere. It was strange for me to have to interact with so many people in such a fashion. I was asked questions and looked up to. I was their mentor and their teacher, and it was something completely foreign to me, especially since I lead a pretty solitary existence in all other aspects of my life. It was a miracle I was even as close with Seb as I was. Despite my discomfort with my sudden authoritative position, I did my best to adapt and assert my authority and only once was I questioned.

“What makes you so qualified to be a general?” A boy not much younger than me asked. I narrowed my eyes at him under my mask and brought my sword to his throat in under a second, cutting away some of his too long, greasy hair.

“I am not afraid to kill you or anyone else. People mean nothing to me. I am quick, silent, and a better fighter than you’ll ever meet,” I said through clenched teeth, pushing my sword harder into his throat and drawing a thin line of blood. “Any more questions?” Malice dripped from my voice like the blood down his neck.

“N-no sir,” He stammered and I pulled the sword from his neck, lifting my mask slightly and licking the blood from my sword’s edge. When the taste of his bitter, salty blood hit my tongue, I bared my teeth and spit it out at his feet, replacing my mask promptly. I cleared my throat and kept walking.

“I’m not here to befriend any of you. I am here to help win a war. Part of that entails shaping you all into the best damn soldiers possible. And if that makes me your least favourite person ever, so be it. Keep up. I won’t tolerate slow soldiers,” I growled, leading them to one of the many rooms dedicated to sparring.

Much to my surprise, the sparring went better than I’d expected. It helped clue me into who would be useful and who would die quickly. I watched them closely as they fought one another and even gave a few tips where I saw fit. I didn’t know exactly why the war had started, but it wasn’t my business. I knew who the enemy was and what I had to do during battle. Other than that, I figured it didn’t really matter why we were all fighting. I knew Seb knew what started it, but since he hadn’t told me, I knew it wasn’t imperative that I knew. Instead of bothering with things that weren’t important, I didn’t ask questions and did what I was supposed to.

Around six in the evening, Seb started letting people go home or to their respective rooms in the building. I was offered a room of my own, but I declined, not quite ready to move out, even if the room was bigger and nicer than my entire apartment. I told Seb I’d think about it and promised to be back the next day. Walking back home, I tried to clear my frazzled Demon mind. Needless to say, it didn’t go well. Demons weren’t what they sounded like, or what everyone thought. Most Demons, in reality, were not servants of Satan at all. Though there were light and dark sides, not all Demons were dark. We were also closer related to what most people thought of as shape shifters, but had just one solitary animal, instead of many. I was a wolf, but I was a rare form of Demon. I found out at a young age that I was a Demon God. With this, my mind was pretty much always frazzled, and that day was no different. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being a general, but it, if nothing else, gave me something to do.

In my apartment again, I immediately started up my laptop and made a file for each of my subordinates, including Nick and Katie, who, as I found out, were brother and sister. I kept files on just about everyone I met. They helped me keep track of things and determine who my friends, or in better terms allies, were. When each file was finished and filled with the day’s observations, I realized how hungry I was. Initially, it caught me off guard, since I rarely ate much, but after a moment’s pondering, I decided it made sense. I hadn't eaten more than a handful of calories in the past week, after all.

I walked the three steps it took me to get to my kitchen and looked for something to eat. Much to my dismay, my refrigerator and cupboard were both more than bare. I had eaten the last of the Pop Tarts in the morning and the only things left were blood, a single slice of bread, and a box of lime Jell-O mix, which I had no memory of ever buying. I looked closer at the bread. Moldy. Damn. I sighed and bit my lip, as I thought about chancing the Jell-O, but then remembered it took four hours to make. Double damn. Must’ve been time to go grocery shopping. Those were some of the only times I wished I didn’t live alone; the only times I almost regretted killing my mother and father. I looked at my wallet. I had twenty three dollars to my name. I frowned, decidedly too hungry to ignore the earthquake-like tremors in my stomach.

I took the bus to the store and bought a few things to hold me over for the next week; more bread, sandwich fixings, another box of Pop Tarts, and a box of cereal. Before I was even home, I opened the box of Pop Tarts and devoured a package. With my hunger mostly sated, I allowed myself to relax without dropping my guard. It was ever crucial that I was always on guard. If I wasn’t, I’d have been killed long ago. Vulnerability was something I never wanted to show. Feeling someone sit next to me, my thoughts broke, and I snapped my head up quickly to see. It was the preppy girl from the day before. I rolled my eyes and bit back a growl; I was in no mood for the likes of her.

“Hi again!” She smiled her eyes bright even in the dark. “How weird is this? Seems like we have similar schedules.”

I peered at her without a word, skeptical of her every breath. What could she have known about my schedule?

“I’m Stella, by the way,” She added before I could wonder much more about her. I shook her outstretched hand reluctantly and frowned at her from under my mask. Couldn’t she tell I wanted nothing to do with her?

“Shadow,” I grunted, trying to be curt. I mentally cursed myself, wishing I had been able to ignore my hunger. The way she looked at me made my stomach twist in knots and my heart beat unsteadily. Her eyes were too inquisitive and cheerful. She looked like she wasn’t afraid of me and like she was genuinely interested in getting to know me.

“I like your mask. It’s really beautiful,” She whispered, reaching out toward one of the small cracks. I caught her wrist quickly and, remembering that I shouldn’t make a scene, I pushed her hand away as gently as I could manage. She looked at her hand and mumbled an apology, “Sometimes I see beautiful things and get so mesmerized that I want to touch them,” She said, sounding much shier than just moments before, as if she had been punished for similar acts of boldness before.

“It happens. I’m just not a fan of being touched.” I bowed my head to her and stood with my groceries, waving briefly to the girl.

“I hope to see you again sometime, Shadow.” She waved back as I walked away. I kept walking and didn’t return her words because I knew they wouldn’t have been true.