If Angels Can Walk the Earth, So Can Demons

I had a few days to ponder “the plan” and to spend my up-front bonus money, a mere fraction of what I would earn, they promised.

Should I go through with it? This was my dream, afterall, to be a famous actress. But I would not be ME. I would assume the role of her. I would have to attend her functions, live in her house, and kiss her boyfriend.

I was a good enough actress to do it. Over time, I would morph her image into a more comfortable version of me.

I pondered these things as I had my nails done, trying to get a feel for the star treatment. I spied my contact through the picture window. He beckoned to me and I felt compelled to get up and go. My hands weren’t done yet. I sat.

My head ached, I was forced up out of my seat. The pain was too much.
“Miss! You not finish!”
“I’ll be back,” I gasped, stumbling to the door, clutching my head in my palms.

“What do you want?!”
“Answers. Are you in?”

My head cleared, and I saw his yellow irises. I knew then whom I was dealing with.

View this story's 10 comments.