1 The Gloves That Decide The Rest of Your Life

"And...Done!"

Ulrich looked around his mostly empty room. What was once a vibrant collection of various posters, collections, and games that made up a childhood, were all packed up, ready to be moved to college, minus a few things he wouldn't need.

He ran his hand through his spiky black hair, between those two prominent spikes on each side he could just never get down. He stretched, making a noise that sounded like a yawn, but it got into weird Scandinavian metal recently. After spending a day packing, he decided the best course of action would be a nap. He took off his shirt, a purple one with a circle and triangle intersecting, and lay down...

...until the doorbell rang. With a quick "God Dammit." he put his sweaty shirt on and went to the door.

When he answered the door, he was almost immediately had the tiredness knocked out of him with the most enthusiastic "Hello!!!" he had ever heard, screamed at him in a Scandinavian accent. The girl looked slightly older than him, and was slightly shorter than him, with pure blonde hair going down to her waist, and a light blue shirt with two gold spirals not quite meeting, matched by a simple pair of jeans, but the strangest thing about her was the pair of white gloves she was wearing, with a small black stripe in the middle

"Can I...help you?" Ulrich mumbled groggily.

"I'm hoping so." She replied, her voice just as sunny as the 78 degree Florida July, taking out a smartphone, showing him a picture of a boy.

Gene Bennet. Because of course it was.

"Do you know where he lives?" She asked. "Your mother told me you worked together."

"About six doors down, to your left." Ulrich replied. "You some kinda college scout?"

"Yes, I am. I represent the university of Iceland." She replied, putting the phone in her pocket.

"Alright, good luck. Rumour has it that Yale tried to grab him, so you better make the pitch good!"

"I'll be sure to. Also, your mother wishes to speak with you." She said to him, before running towards Gene's house.

So Gene was heading to Iceland, huh? after seeing the girl, the whole thing about Icelandic women wasn't exactly wrong. But his gaze shifted from the woman, to what she dropped.

Another pair of gloves, the exact same as what she was wearing. Looking closer at it, they were pretty elegant, the type of thing he could imagine royalty wearing, really slender and soft. He tried calling out to her, but she was already gone. He considered running over to Gene, but decided against it. If she wanted the gloves, she'd come back for them. And considering the heat, it wasn't really that worth it to him.

Just what were these, anyway? Some kind of souvenir? This the kind of thing they gave out in Iceland? But the gloves were pretty nice, it wouldn't kill anyone if he tried them on, so he slipped them on.

And immediately felt like the entire universe punched him in the head. His hands became deathly cold, as if they were about to fall off. He ripped them off, ran to his room, and flung them onto his dresser. This was some shady stuff going on, but Gene was smart enough to figure it out.

Probably.

But hey, the cold rush from these cursed artefacts lifted him from his tiredness, so he decided to head to his moms place.

He entered the Green Metal Motor Shop, met with an "Ulrich! How ya doin?" by the owner and his mom, in a t-shirt with some 70's cartoon character on it and short brown hair, alongside a guy meekly waving with an air freshener in his hand.

"Doin fine, mom. All packed for college."

"College? You do know you don't leave for another week, right? But anyway, that Swedish girl find you?"

"Yeah, she found me, alright. So what you need me for?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, I wanted to give you something."

She shot open the register, and took out a black credit card, handing it to him. "You just got yourself a severance package!"

"Wait, for real?" Ulrich replied, looking at the card, and putting it in his pocket. "Th-th-thanks." He didn't even know how to react to that, but it was certainly a good way to start Colarado.

There's about five grand in there, so use it for what you want. Getting something for your dad, seeing a nice girl, whatever."

"Oh, yeah, dad." Ulrich mumbled. "He doing okay?"

"From what I heard he's doing pretty well. Teaches programming at Denver, and he went through a second divorce, left with some kid. But he's excited to see you after..." her voice trailed, looking at him while starting to whistle.

"Twelve years?"

"Damn, twelve? Anyway, he is excited to see you, and he managed to pick up the new Fatal Fantasy game, that bundle with the figure. So you have that to look forward to."

He heard a cough behind them, and the man was still there, with some air fresheners and some magazines his mom would berate him for looking at, so he headed out.

When he got home, he didn't feel like that nap anymore, due to an unholy pair of gloves waking him up. Quite rude, honestly. So he just turned to the TV.

"Another set of Demonic attacks have happened across England, Germany, and Sri Lanka in the last 24 hours. Combined with the last demonic attacks from the past six days, this leaves an estimated six million dead or missing, with many asking what the governments or military are planning or expecting to do."

Oh, yeah, the demonic attacks. The planet was being invaded by unholy creatures through portals in the sky. But the week anniversary, holy shit. But as far as he knew, there was no way to prevent or predict it, so nothing really changed, and the president was continuing to mumble a bunch of nothing. He lived in the middle of nowhere, so presumably he was safe. And with that peace of mind, he changed to the rerun of the new West Park episode, which he watched in peace.

And when he finished, it was dark.

Really dark.

Ulrich looked at the clock, which said four PM. In July, in Florida...

He checked outside, and in front of him was a dark indigo spiral, getting bigger by the second. He saw this before on TV, so he knew exactly what this meant.

A demonic attack.

Against all better judgment, he stepped outside, alongside at least fifty other people, all watching as small black orbs fell out of the vortex. And when they hit the ground, they started being pulled towards each other, rapidly forming into purple creatures, hunched backs, claws for hands, and eyes the colour of toxic waste.

He and the others were frozen in fear, with them going towards the crowd, and the fat man in a Hawaiian shirt in front.

Before a demons hand flashed, and he was immediately impaled.

This sent a shockwave through Ulrich, and the rest of the crowd, as they all began running in different directions.

The demons quickly started taking victims, none talking. They had mouths, but didn't eat. Any reasons they had to be doing this were unknown, but food wasn't one.

Ulrich just ran. His mom had a shotgun in the back of the store, and if anyone here could hold them back, it was probably her.

He was almost at the store, passing a corner when he ran head first into the Icelandic girl, and he fell on the ground. He scrambled to get up, when he noticed a demon right above him, it pounced...

...but it was frozen. The ice covered claw was brushing off his chest. Half a second longer, and he would have been impaled. Ulrich got up, and the girl was holding up a gloved hand, ice vapour seeping from it. And without a hint of any of her previous voice, she spoke.

"You. The gloves. You have them, don't you?"