DeVante's InHERmission

Say Your Prayers and Kiss the Devil•2

"Well, there's plain old dead then there's dead dead."

2017

"Excuse me, can I get some help over here?" Donald politely waved over the young female sales associate. She stood behind the counter as if he wasn't there trying to purchase a pair of shoes.
The young woman looked around in confusion before resuming her task. He knew he wasn't as popular as he used to be but to be blatantly ignored was just disrespectful.

"The fuck?" Donald murmured to himself as he turned around in a circle, looking for someone else in the store.
"What can I help you with, sir?" A dainty voice called out from behind him.

"Finally." He huffed turning around, meeting the gaze of a short, brown skinned woman. Donald gave her a once over and bit his lip at her healthy physique. She smiled brightly noticing him checking her out, revealing a set of perfectly straight and astonishingly white teeth, a cute gap separated her two front teeth and two deep dimples caught Donald's eye as she giggled.
"What can I do for you?" She asked.
"Oh uh, let me get this in a 12, please." He said, handing her the shoe. She nodded and placed the shoe under her arm.
"Will do. Yooooou're DeVante Swing, right?" She squinted, biting her lip as she looked him up and down.
"I am." He chuckled, pushing his sunglasses back up on his nose. He'd grown accustomed to wearing them when he couldn't look into his own eyes. Over the years, he spun the story that he wore them because he was nervous in front of cameras and large crowds. That was only partially true. He used them to mask his paranoia and feelings. With his alluring eyes came the curse of them showing everything he felt. Vulnerability.
"I'm sorry, it's just...me and my mom love your music." She cheesed, bouncing a couple of times on her feet before covering her face in embarrassment. Donald laughed and shook his head, hiding the fact that she'd delivered such a a bittersweet compliment.

'Me and MY MOM'. Well, damn.

"Um, I'll go get your shoes. Sorry." She blushed.
"It's all good, baby. Thank you." He smiled.

Donald sat in a chair waiting for the girl to come back. As he glanced down at his phone, the lights in the whole store flickered.

"Betta pay y'all bills, man." He mumbled to himself. Shortly after, the woman reappeared from the stock area holding a crisp box of what Donald expected to be his shoes.
She quietly set them in front of him and smiled.
" Thank you...." he glanced at her name tag.
"...Faith."
"You're very welcome. Is that all you need?" She smiled, watching him slip into the shoes.
"Yep."
Donald heard her clear her throat as he inspected the shoes in the mirror.
"Are you sure...that's all you need?" He froze, letting the chill pass through him. Her voice was no longer cute and dainty but dark and threatening, taunting even.
Donald slowly turned and looked over at her, seeing the seductive smirk grace her face as she blinked revealing her soulless black orbs. She blinked again and they were back to their normal brown color.

"Hi, Donald!"She exclaimed, with an overly friendly smile and eager wave.
"I have been waiting to meet you! Balaam is so stingy. He gets all the good people! I get....alcoholics who still turn out to be nothing after they've traded their souls for everything." She dramatically rolled her eyes.
"Anyway! We. Have. Business." She wagged her petite finger at him with every word. Donald sank into the chair watching her in shock. He hadn't been bothered in years. For one to show up now was most likely a bad thing.

"Wh-what business?" He stammered, feeling his chest get tight.
"I'm glad you asked." She smirked, sauntering over to him and resting her hands on his chair arms. She jerked the chair forward causing him to jolt up with it, bringing their faces closer.
"The transfer." She whispered before kissing his forehead. His body slumped over in the chair in his hasty slumber.