The Dark Muse: A Collection of Short Stories

Sympathy for the Devil Rewrite

Written for the Bookshop contest: Smoke on the Water. Inspired by Sympathy for the Devil by the Rolling Stones.

Lily jogged down the street, slowing only as she came under the protection of the bus stop awning. The rain beat against the glass roof, angrily trying to break through with intermittent growls of thunder. She imagined it was mocking her, having been just a slight drizzle when she left her hotel a couple minutes ago. She pushed her hood back with a huff and sat down on the bench. Figures the Heavens would let loose on her today of all days. As if going to the hospital wasn't dreary enough.

There was a man already waiting, leaning against the side partition. He wore a long, black coat with the collar turned up and shiny leather shoes. His hair was sleek and dark with gel. A man of good taste. He smiled at her. "A personal affront, isn't it?"

She looked at him blankly. "What?"

"The rain," he said, nodding towards the street.

Lily turned her gaze in that direction. The road was black and slick, the buildings across blurred by the static of the rain. Cars drove by, splashing grimy water against the sidewalk. Cars, but no bus. She sighed and looked down at her green rain boots. "Feels like it."

The man took a drag on his cigarette, then blew out a cloud of smoke, tapping the ash onto the ground. "Why don't we play a game?"

Lily reviewed him more closely, shifting towards the far end of the bench. She couldn't tell exactly how old he was, but she assumed middle-aged. His face should be striking, attractive even, with sharply defined features and deep-set dark eyes, but somehow she knew she wouldn't remember it well later.

"A game?" She wondered if she should leave and find a taxi somewhere further down the street. But, oddly enough, the man didn't creep her out. She should be creeped out by a strange man offering to play a game at the bus stop, but she wasn't. Of course her mother had taught her about stranger danger and—well, she knew all about it, what woman didn't? But she felt no less safe than usual. Her lack of uneasiness almost made her uneasy. Maybe it was because of the cane he held in his right hand, smooth and jet black. It added to his already debonair charm, and it implied that she could outrun him if necessary.

"Just a little game while we wait for the bus."

She supposed a distraction couldn't hurt. "What kind of a game?"

"You," he paused to take another drag on the cigarette, "try to guess my name."

Lily crossed her legs and leaned back against the bench, fiddling with the zipper of her purse. "The rules?"

He nodded. "You can ask me three questions, but they must be unrelated to my name. You cannot ask about the letters or the sound. Just three questions. You get one guess."

She looked up at him with a smirk. "That doesn't sound like a game catered to my advantage."

The man chuckled and shrugged. "Those are my rules."

"What do I get if I win?"

He tilted his head. "Perhaps a gift." He watched her, waiting for her to ask for clarification, to exhibit some curiosity.

She stared out into the rain. There was only one thing she wanted, and she already knew he couldn't give it to her. So why ask. "And if I lose?"

The man grinned. "Perhaps you give me something."

She felt a twinge of doubt. She looked up and down the street. Still no bus in sight. She really shouldn't be playing games with a strange man at the bus stop. But what else was she to do? Sit there and worry? Relive all of her nightmares imagining the hospital?