The Pseudo Semicolon

CHAPTER 25: The Final Play

Akira was transported to somewhere else—no, that was just an illusion. He could still feel Todd's arm around his shoulders, the other boy's trembling body. But other than that, his surroundings completely shifted; flickering into a grey room.

It was mostly empty except for the table in front of Akira and the chair behind it. Bobby sat there, grinning widely. But there was something different about the boy—he sat with ease, his eyes held a certain twinkle in them but none of the warmth. It was dark pools of black. "I didn't expect you to make a deal."

"Well—I never expected Devland to go out and kidnap people but hey, we all have our moments." Akira shrugged casually, trying not to show how nervous he was. He anxiously drummed on the table, waiting for the Devil to let him speak more.

"Let's hear it—What is it that you want, mortal? What is it that you can give me?"

"How about the last sacrifice? Along with four more shiny teenagers for you to torture." Akira exhaled, feeling his heart trying to rip open his ribs and shoot through his chest.

The Devil's eyes momentarily widened, then a crooked smile graced his lips, leaning forward with a mad gleam in his eyes, "Oh?"

"I give you one teenage sacrifice and complete the ritual of... whatever the name is—and also four dirty souls for you to play with until they truly know the pain they have caused."

"What do you need in return?"

"Devland should be able to walk away from this scot-free, you can't follow him, fuck with his dreams—anything. And, you can only torture these four souls whilst you are on Earth, you cannot harm nor kill anyone else."

"A little bit restricting don't you think? The scales aren't really balanced here."

"I give you freedom to roam the Earth—isn't that enough?"

"Not really."

"I–what else do you want?"

The Devil tilted his head, "Do you truly wish to learn what I desire?"

Akira shuddered, sinking further into his chair. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with something. Wait—he was the Devil, he enjoyed suffering and torture. Most importantly, he wanted to see Akira in pain, he wanted Akira to suffer.

"Ten years..." Akira exhaled, "Ten years off my lifespan."

The Devil quirked an eyebrow, "Seventy."

"Thirty."

"Sixty."

"Fourty."

"Sixty five."

Akira groaned, "To clarify, I'm talking the average lifespan–which is seventy two years, not a hundred years."

The Devil gritted its teeth, a little impressed due to how specific Akira was. "Twenty seven years then."

Akira chuckled, "Is Forty five a lucky number in hell?"

"Sixty two years then—"

"No, twenty seven."

The demon grinned, showing off his yellow teeth as he extended his hand. Akira gulped, 'Should I really be doing this? Isn't there any other way?'

Then he remembered Devland's anguish, of himself being brutally beaten by the police as the blond brat watched, of Todd's sadistic grin.

Akira reached out and sealed the deal.

He didn't feel anything different; just his surroundings changing back to the initial scene. Todd was looking at him, his eyes slowly filling with horror. Akira gripped the knife that had materialised in his hand, fighting down the bile and the fear rising in his throat.

He could never go back after this—he can never go back to normal again.

The rest of the Elites were in the front, obviously crawling towards their "freedom", unaware of Akira's plans. Akira could hear Devland's footsteps behind them, but they faltered to a stop. It's now or never.

Akira raised his arm, and with a swift strike, stabbed the white knife into Todd's heart.