FACE OF THE DEVIL

A day passed after my visit to the hospital. It seemed Lemon was only awaiting my arrival before she left. Most of her scars were gone, including those on the neck and the whiteness of her skin radiated beauty.

The Chief and some of the Troopers came over to her place after she returned, throwing a party loud enough for the neighbours to complain and even threaten to call the cops on them. They found it amusing when they heard that last part because they were the cops. She insisted I make an appearance at the impromptu party and forced me to dance with her.

In fact throughout that night she did not leave my side. It was getting pretty annoying because I was looking for a way to escape to the apartment opposite hers, yes, my place. She insisted we play a party game, one accustomed to the people of Zoar. It was a board game, with a make up almost similar to that of monopoly but having the size and colour of a twister board. The game's main message was love and mercy, a boring game if you asked most of the guys around but the girls couldn't get enough of it.

Chief kept saying I couldn't take a hint even if it was pointed close to my eyeball. Honestly, he was right, I was clueless as to what he was even talking about at the time. Not until that Friday evening when she opened her door for me, ready for the anniversary party, did I understand what Chief was actually talking about.

She looked stunning. A breathtaking view that almost had me drooling. She had a gown on, off shoulder, bare back. Long with a slit that reached her thighs. It was oxblood in colour and perfectly fitted the necklace she wore. She smiled sheepishly as she watched me stare speechless.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" She asked.

"You look, you look," I stuttered. "Like the birth of the universe."

She laughed.

"Very romantic Ezra," she smiled. "You don't look bad yourself."

She grinned walking past me. The only sound in the air were the sounds of her footsteps as she walked towards my door. Then she stopped in front of it and turned to me.

"My holobangle," she said. "It's still on your shelf, remember?"

It's been there for ages. Clicking the button of my key to open the door, I walked behind her into the living room, my eyes quietly following her every move. At that moment, she was like a fragile vase to me and I intended to keep her out of harm's way. I had already sworn to myself the previous night that I would do my best to protect her while she slept on my lap.

She went straight for my shelf, close to the television. I crashed on the couch, watching as she scrambled through the books looking for her holobangle. A holobangle was the best accessory a girl could have…according to the commercial. It can be set to expand and take a large portion of your wrist or reduced to a smaller size. It could also change colours, so you could set it to any colour you want, so it could match with your outfit. It barely got damaged, and that's why it was very expensive and had a low demand in the market.

Lemon had a habit of leaving some of her things in my place whenever she came visiting, uninvited most of the time. Sometimes she leaves her shoes, sometimes her jacket and there was this day she left her bra on my couch, which made my girlfriend at the time breakup with me. Hmm, I still believe she did that last bit on purpose though.

"Hey, when did you get this?" She asked, pulling out the book given to me by the Keeper. "It's written in another language, is that Norse? I didn't know you could read Norse. 'Chronicles Of The Guardian', hmm, decent title. What's it about?"

"Oh I haven't read it," I replied. "A friend gave it to me."

"A friend?" She chuckled. "Ezra, Tonji and I are the only friends you have, and I'm definitely sure this isn't from Tonji."

I smiled, standing up. Then I walked closer to her looking at the book. She had opened it and turned to a page close to the end of the book. It was written in a language I could not understand, despite having the ability to read all languages, according to my system. My eyelids pushed closer to each other and my brows furrowed as I tried my best to decipher the words.

"That isn't Norse," I said, holding her hand against the book. "Wait, you can read this?"

"Yeah, look at this sentence here," she said, pointing at a sentence in the middle of a page. " 'And without a second thought, Dalories, the second guardian destroyed that Estion Galaxy without just the snap of her fingers.' Intriguing story if you ask me."

She put on the bracelet and kept the book back on the shelf, saying she was going to borrow it when we returned. I, on the other hand, was crazy confused. How was she able to read something that even I couldn't read, even though I had activated my system. Did she also have a system that allowed her to do things I couldn't do? I had these thoughts rambling in my head until we got to the mayor's manor, where the party had begun.

We were announced the moment we walked into the ballroom. It was a party filled with esteemed and important guests, all in beautiful dresses and stunning suits, but none as beautiful as Lemon in her gown. The eyes of the guests were glued on us for a fine five minutes before they returned to their normal activities. We immediately made our way to the Mayor and his family, and they were more than delighted to see us.

As far as rich people's parties went, this one was not as bad as I expected it to be. There were a lot of acrobatics in the middle of the room, with some comedian who wasn't in the least bit funny. There was singing, unfortunately not karaoke and my favourite part, there was food, an 'all you can eat' buffet. Soon enough, the time for the anniversary speech came, and Mayor Humphrey's love poem to his wife was quite romantic, if I do say so myself.

As the party was coming to an end, the couple went to the middle of the room and began dancing. That was it. Enough reason for the rest of the crowd—those who came with dates anyway, to join in and start dancing too. I saw it as an opportunity to make a French exit, but Lemon had other plans.

"We should dance, Ezra," she suggested.

"Not on my dea—"

She pulled me into the crowd before I could finish. Slowly and gently, she showed me the steps, and although reluctant at first, I began getting the hang of it. One step, two steps, I took her round the dancefloor as we waltz to the beautiful Mozart playing. It was a heavenly feeling, at that moment everything, everyone else was non-existent. It was like time itself had stopped and the only thing that mattered was the gleeful face before me.

Indeed, I felt a romantic spur as we stole the show with our dancing. Then suddenly it was ruined. At the side of my perception, I noticed a face, someone in the audience, staring with a sinister grin at us as we danced. Though it was a short glance, I noticed every inch of that face. The face of the devil, the face of Halo the Reaper.