Three

Emalia was acting strange for the following two weeks, it was only on the third week when she began to calm down and begin to act like she had before Valentine told her about the demons that roamed the street at night, her rambling had never left his mind it was always playing at the back of his head.

'You can't know, not yet.'

'you shouldn't be able to see him.'

'Maybe she's hiding something from you?' that voice in his head spoke.

"Okay, you manage to say the worst things at the worst possible times, and where have you been anyway, I could've used some help in that geography exam."

There was a muffled sigh in his mind, it felt like he had headphones on and the singer was hissing into his ear at full volume.

"Please don't sigh," Valentine grimaced.

'You simply don't like what I'm saying because I might be right,' the voice sounded somewhat sad.

"You really think she's hiding something?"

There was a low hum like a vibration, 'it doesn't matter what I think, the question is do you think she's hiding something?'

"I don't know."

"Are you talking to that voice in your head?"

Valentine nodded without thinking, then he paused and turned around, "who are you?"

The middle aged guy chuckled. He had grey hair and a short beard, his eyes were amber, a colour that was usually warm now seemed to scream 'I'm a dangerous person.' He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, "Call me….Evan."

'Boy, you better listen to me. Leave right now.'

"Warning the boy are we now?" Evan tilted his head, his eyes bearing into Valentine's but he was clearly not looking at him.

"You know, I think I agree with Mr. Voice. I'll be leaving now," Valentine turned and ran.

He turned a corner only for the man to appear out of thin air. Valentine recoiled in shock a rainbow of words flew out of his mouth, one that I will not be repeating, the teen took a deep breath before speaking in a low irritated snarl, “What the hell do you want?”

"I need to have a chat with that voice in your head," Evan stated.

"We had our chat 10 years ago-" Valentine slapped a hand in front of his mouth, he raised his hands in surrender, "that was not me! I swear to God!"

"He's using your mouth to speak, that's a new development," Evan chuckled then his face went as still as a sheen of ice, "now you listen here and you listen well, your grandfather's crown has been stolen. If we can't get it back before the red moon rises, Hell will be let loose on Earth."

"How can I trust your word that you weren't the one who stole it?" Valentine froze, he spoke after a moment had passed, "Can you please stop doing that?"

'No.'

"You can't but you need to believe me, I know I've been anything but a good person to you in the past 2 millennia especially in the last decade. But please, you need to help us."

"Then get me out of this body!"

Evan grimaced, "I can't."

Valentine, or well whatever demon was residing in his body, opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by the old man.

"I have been stripped of my powers, the magic will wear off on its own during the red moon, but only if your host agrees-"

"Well heck yeah I agree!" Valentine exclaimed, "I'd rather not have to share my body. Thank you very much."

"I wasn't finished talking!" Evan roared.

"Sorry," Valentine squeaked while whoever was in his head chuckled.

"If your host agrees on the night of the red moon then yes, you'll be free to go. I can make a temporary form of separation between you two, stand in front of a mirror, if he wants to communicate you'll see him, and when he's finished he'll be in your body again."

'Thank the sins I don't have to be connected with him 24/7.'

"That's it? No terms and conditions?", Valentine asked, feeling sceptical, this was not at all like the movies. No 'one of you may be lost forever shall the separation fail', it was just 'ah yes, the guy whose body you're trapped in has to agree and then you'll be a-okay to go!'.

"No terms and conditions," Evan nodded, he glanced at the sky, "now hurry home. The sun is setting."

The guy disappeared in a flash of golden and black feathers.

"Well that was anticlimactic," Valentine clapped his hands together and turned to leave.

"Don't jinx it."

He jumped at the new yet familiar voice. He turned in the direction it came from. It was a metal door he was standing beside. He walked closer and closer until he could clearly see his reflection in it, but only it wasn't him. The guy looked like him in a way, except he was slightly taller, by probably an inch, his hair was way longer and black-blue, his irises were the colour of green mint.

He was wearing a long black trench coat that swung around his legs, black jeans that had a high waist and a wine red button up shirt, and his boots were also black. A whip hung at his side. He had two scars on the left side of his face: one under the eye, the other on his jaw,. A scar ran across his neck as if someone had tried slitting his throat at some point, and he spotted one on the back of the guy's right hand. His arms were crossed as he stepped closer as well.

"Not so anticlimactic now is it?" The guy asked, one of his eyebrows was raised whether as a teasing gesture or as 'try and deny me bitch' Valentine didn't know.

"No it isn't," Valentine choked out after he found his voice again. His reflection was no longer his reflection.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm some sort of terrifying hallucination."

Valentine raised his own eyebrows, "I feel like you were going to say something else. Anyway, if I'm going to be stuck with you, you might as well tell me your name?"

"I'll do that once you start walking."

As they walked, Valentine realized that on every reflective surface instead of his reflection it was the guy, the demon that had apparently been trapped in his head since he was seven. They walked past a building made completely of reflective glass that made it practically impossible to look inside it. The demon walked with his head down and his arms crossed watching each step he took.

"So, what's your name?" Valentine asked, he turned to the reflection.

"Mal."

"Is that short for something?" The blue haired teen urged.

"Malice."

"Oh," Valentine's brain blanked, he looked back down at the pavement, "that- that's a nice name."

"It's more of a nickname than anything else really," Mal stated, "I don't have a name. I was just called 'kid' by everyone."

"Even your parents?" Valentine turned in disbelief only to stop short when he came face to face with his own reflection.

'Get home,' Mal ordered.

Valentine could just imagine the brooding look on his face. With a sigh, he began his run home.