Image by Serge De Gracia via Flickr

Demond shifted in his chair and shuffled through his note cards once more.  He sought to cram the key words and phrases into the most readily accessible nooks of his brain.  The extra preparation soothed but did not allay his fears.

“Mr. Galindo, Mr. Dark will see you now.”  The raven-haired female swept her hand toward the towering door covered in reliefs of human faces sporting various degrees of anguish.  The doorknob lay in the mouth of the lone face that mocked with a malevolent grin.

Demond rose and brushed off his trousers.  He slipped the cards in his pocket to keep both hands free in case the sentries roused.  After tiptoeing to the door and cracking his knuckles, he shot his right hand out.  The face’s eyes blinked a few times before its jaws snapped shut, but it was too late.  Demond had already turned the knob and withdrawn his hand.

The door’s latch scraped as he pushed with his toe against one of the tamer faces near the bottom.  The second from the left, to be precise, was a sympathetic friend from another time.  It whispered, “Fare thee well, my friend,” as Demond pushed the door open just enough to slip inside. Continue reading →