His Only Way Out

The neon lights from the jazz clubs painted the brick walls red, green, and gold. The Mardi Gras revelers staggered behind the last parade, none seeing the daemon silhouetted in the window. Midnight chimed, and he held his breath until the twelfth bell before counting another day passed.

He’d taken advantage of the thin veil on the streets of New Orleans nearly a century ago. He’d crossed over to play with the frail humans and shamefully let himself be trapped behind heavy wards designed especially for him.

The clock tower’s bells still echoed from the bricks when the grate of an iron key in the rusted lock caused a ripple up the daemon’s spine. He clung to this human form as the new owner’s footsteps on the stairs brought them closer. He let his vulpine limbs loosen and relaxed into a dance, spinning out an enchanted song.

A young woman froze on the landing, watching in awe. He offered her his hand. She accepted, and he pulled her into the dance. She looked into his eyes, searching, and he let time drift. Days passed, months, years, in which the painted spells on the doors deteriorated and flaked away.

The yoke about his neck eased as the wards weakened. The rebound would likely kill the young woman, but it was his only way out, and he would take it.

She smiled at him in a most beguiling way. In that instant, he thought he might almost regret this frail creature’s end.

Composite photo by Julia | Originals by Justin Wilkens & Jimmy Woo