Demonic Influence (I hate my co-workers)

Birdie

The woman was short, with dark black hair and strikingly blue eyes. She seemingly also donned a petticoat, something quite peculiar for anyone who lived in this era. Eddy was instantly on guard. Which one is it, angel or demon?

"That's me."

The woman wrinkled her nose in disdain. "Eddy Chen, my name is Cassiel. I'm here tonight strictly on business." There was a pause. "We'll be needing you in heaven."

Alright, angel it is. That sent a shiver down Eddy's spine. "Why?" he challenged, looking the angel up and down. His eyes shifted slowly from their usual dark coloring to a far lighter red.

"There's no need for that." The words were soft spoken, though Eddy could suddenly see the angel's wings, highlighted by the moonlight. They were not so long as Brett's, though they were certainly healthier. The stark white feathers rustled in the passing breeze, and Eddy knew without a second thought that if he tried to fight the angel, he would be kissing the pavement in mere seconds.

"Fine," Eddy relinquished, gritting his teeth and relaxing only slightly. Back down while you still can. "But I deserve to know why I need to go up there."

"You don't deserve to know anything." The angel's words were biting, and she frowned at him. "But I am not so uptight as some of my superiors, so I will indulge you."

"Aren't you generous," Eddy muttered. Watch your tongue.

The angel crossed her arms. "You have been requested for questioning."

Eddy wrinkled his nose. He wondered how Brett was feeling. Hopefully he was doing okay. "Not really my style. What for?" Careful now, you don't want to upset her any more than you already have.

"You're being awfully unreceptive. I don't have to tell you any of this, I could just knock you out and-"

"Drag my ass to heaven?" Eddy finished for her, smirking slightly now despite himself. Eddy what the actual hell? Yet his mouth continued to run as though it had a mind of its own. "Do all angels talk such big game as you and Brett, yet refuse to actually follow through on any of their threats, or is that just a minor angel thing? Cause that's the sense I'm getting here."

Cassiel scowled.

Eddy just grinned in response. "You should relax a little more, maybe have a beer. Might take a bit of the edge off." Dude, seriously.

"I don't drink," she responded flatly. "You need to come with me."

"What's the magic word?" Eddy all but sing-songed.

This wasn't the first mistake he made during this conversation, but it was that playful, teasing tone that sent Cassiel over the edge. The angel narrowed her eyes, and, leaning forward slightly, eyes glinting golden in the moonlight, whispered out one word. "Sleep."

Eddy, feeling his eyelids sag, internally began to curse himself. He got about as far as Shit shit shit dude, you always try and act cool and it literally never works, why would you- before unconsciousness overtook him.

When Eddy next awoke, it was unnaturally bright.

Brett was trying to practice. It had been far too long since he had even attempted to pick up his instrument, and while his playing was certainly suffering from it, that wasn't even the worst part. It just made him so sad, to have not played for so long. He had missed this, the feeling of his fingers flying over the strings, the cool wood of the violin scroll as he turned the pegs, even the solid weight of the instrument just pressed against the curve of his neck.

Everything was just as before, perfectly in order. However, he probably would have been having a bit more success with his practice if his neighbors weren't having possibly the loudest party known to mankind. The speakers were loud, the screaming was louder, and Brett was pretty sure he had heard fireworks go off on more than one occasion.

It took him too long to call it quits, but finally, the noise got to him. Grumbling something about humans and partying and practice schedules, Brett packed his violin away again, making a mental promise to really practice tomorrow to make up for lost time. He missed the old days sometimes, when he could play and play and not have to worry if he would actually be able to hear himself think.

He used to pick up his instrument and just not put it down again. Sometimes, his practice sessions would last days or even weeks. Brett sighed, making his way into the kitchen as the music got louder. Maybe Eddy left something out that he could eat.

He smiled when he saw the plastic container of biscuits on the counter. Eddy was by no means a cook, however the demon did know how to break apart a container of pre made dough and put it in the oven for fifteen to twenty minutes.

Brett cracked open the container and took one of them out, beginning to nibble on it, not even bothering to heat it up. Not that it being cold made much of a difference to him. He was always cold these days, he was cold and he was tired, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep for weeks.

Looking around his open kitchen, Brett could see that Eddy had also cleaned up as best he could. He had cleaned the dishes and dusted the counters, from what Brett could tell. Brett took a moment to smile on the thought of Eddy cleaning up their kitchen, all domestic. When had it become their kitchen?

Brett was enjoying his second biscuit when he heard the noise. Nothing more than a little tap tap, the sound of something clicking against glass. How he heard it over the racquet from next door, he couldn't tell you. Brow furrowing slightly in confusion, Brett stood up, walking slowly to the window.

Despite craning his neck, he couldn't seem to find anything that could make that noise, not even a tree branch knocking against the house in the wind. Yet that mysterious tapping noise continued on, almost silent, yet so constant. He moved to the next window, this one above the sink. Leaning forward to look closer, Brett suddenly came face to face with a large, black crow.

"Ah!" he jumped back as the crow came into his field of vision. The crow cocked its head, letting out a muffled squawk.

Brett felt himself chuckle. If only heaven could see me now, he thought, moving to look closer at the crow. "Hey there little buddy," he said, grinning. "Are you lost?"

Squawk. There it was again, sound muffled slightly by the glass. And that was the moment that Brett noticed the tiny, ribbon bound message tied to the raven's foot. "Hey there little guy..." he said again, slower now, more curious. "Do you wanna come inside?"