The man stopped a couple of meters away from me, and in the dim light of the unlit stage he sure as hell looked real. It was the expression on his face that gave me the chills: he was definitely drooling over me, leering me up and down in an obviously inappropriate way.
The lusting intent in his eyes was real and I tightened my torso and cleared my head ready to defend myself.
His eyes wandered slowly up and over my body, "It's just you and me, all on our own, it feels nice, doesn't it, Benita?"
"Who are you?"
"Ha – ha – ha – ha – ha –ha!" His laugh was dry, raspy and he finished it with a splutter and spat out a slimy green globule that splatted on the stage floor.
"You know who I am – I am Joshua of Camberwell's nemesis. Call me Lucifer of Lewisham."
He made a step forward, which I followed with a step backward, "I've been following you for quite some time: the lonely girl in the library, the curious girl in Petal Road, the girl falling for her first love, the girl with green eyes – Benita Badoe – spawn of Javed, the Pastor slayer, he who shall be avenged!" His voice rising to a crazy like crescendo.
My body began to quiver whilst he continued to deliver, "I've been watching, waiting for our time." He smiled, "It's our time now, Benita – isn't it?" He asked, licking his lips lasciviously.
Hot beads of sweat burst from my forehead, even though I felt suddenly cold.
I stepped further back, he remained where he was, with his wide nefarious smile "Benita, you can't keep on running from me." Slowly he raised the stick, brandishing it over his shoulder like a bat.
Instinctively I knew he was going to hurl it at me and if that sharp crystal knob hit my head, he had me!
He launched it at me with a force that sent a whistle searing through the space. I dived on the floor protecting my head with my hands. It crashed into the wall behind me and clattered on the floor; I heard it roll and felt it rest at my foot.
Reacting with an Olympian athleticism I grabbed the stick with survival-fuelled speed – I leapt up and flew towards him intent on literally taking his head off.
I swung the stick hearing the slice of it cut the air – he wasn't there. My heart pumping, I stopped and caught my breath. A voice in my head screamed 'He's behind you Benita.' I spun around, ready for him – I couldn't see him.
My heart beat loud in my ear as I ran around the stage, searching for him – he'd vanished, literally.
But he had been there, without a doubt, he was real. He'd spat on the floor – I went to the place where he'd spat – there was nothing there, the floor was devoid of human phlegm and spittle.
My breathing began to settle and despite my searching bewilderment I told myself 'get out of here Benita – fast!'
###
Dad was tending to one of the guys when I came crashing in; he spun round, primed for defensive action. He relaxed when he saw me, "Daughter, you look like you've seen a ghost."
I handed him the stick and as my panic abated I started to pour panting words, "Dad, there's a man in here, white guy, six foot, in a suit, says he's been following me, calls himself Lucifer, he knows you, he mentioned your name, and Josh, then he vanished. He was the man on the stage with us, you seen him – didn't you?" When my bottom lip started to tremble he held me in a tight hug. He moved his hands to my shoulders, "I didn't see a man on the stage, the spotlight was on you and Josh, Remember."
