I smiled back nervously and tripped, sending my purse flying. He stopped to see if I was okay. I cringed instinctively from his hand as he helped me back to my feet.
"Thank you for your help." I said. He handed me my purse.
"You're welcome. Are you sure you're okay? That was quite the tumble."
"Yes, I'm fine." I pulled my purse against my body, hoping he would just leave. Thankfully he did, somewhat reluctantly, and I escaped the street. Ducking into a cafe, I hoped the caffeine would stop my trembling hands. I had an important presentation today, I didn't need him to destroy it.
"Patrick?" The barista called. My head shot up, searching the crowd. A middle-aged man claimed his drink. My heart-rate lowered. It wasn't him. I retrieved my coffee, and pulled out my phone. Dialing, I heard a familiar, comforting voice on the other end of the line.
"Hello?"
"Annie, it's me. I saw him. Maewyn. He's come back."
Silence, then finally, "is he aware?"
"No, I don't think so. He was wearing a collar though. He's a priest."
"Always with the priests. I suppose his job isn't done yet."
"We can't keep this up. It's been centuries, and he still comes back. I refuse to die again, because of him."
"You won't."
Annie hung up. I took a deep breath. Annie always had a plan, and this one had been in the works for over a decade. This time, we'd get him first.
*****
She looked so innocent, so young. Such a shame, really, that it always came to the same patterns. The snakes had to be eradicated, though.
She was the first. Always the first. I suppose switching it up would keep things interesting, but ritual was important. Killing was unfortunate, but necessary. Those who wouldn't convert had to be killed. God demanded it. Or, at least His earthly representatives did.
I flipped open my phone speed dialed. Two rings, and the line was open.
"Found one. The Blue Robin, east side of town. Approximately five minutes."
The call ended. I began to backtrack leisurely, following her as she exited the cafe and spoke on the phone. I smirked. It was always the same game. After centuries, they should have learned, but alas, simple minds for simple folks.
Her call ended, and she rounded a corner. A taxi pulled up beside her as I came up on her, and the door opened. She looked at me moments before I pushed her into the car and shut the door. Terror splayed across her pretty face before a black-gloved hand pressed a cloth to her face.
"The pit awaits you, Snake."
This is a work of fiction. It does not reflect the ideas or views of the contributors to the Dreamers Imaginarium. In fact, there is an awesome article that explains why the Snakes=Pagans idea has no actual basis, despite attempts to connect symbolism.
