Meet Doug

"What are you implying?" Emelie took a step back. Her heart was still restlessly hammering in her chest as she felt the sudden urge to run as fast as possible.

"You don't need to fear me, I'm not going to harm you," the mysterious man took a step forward, his grey eyes now staring attentively at her. "I've only grown curious. I intend to observe this world with my own eyes."

Emelie's throat tightened and her shoulders rose and fell heavily with her chest. Without hesitation, she spun around and bolted.

"I don't get why you're afraid of me when you were planning to die!" he exclaimed from behind.

She heard his loud voice, but her broken shoes continued to run blindly across the bridge, splashed on dirty waters, and buried in moist soil.

Finally, she reached the place she called home, an old horse crate with a thin metal roof and a thick blanket that she used for a door. She held her hitched breaths when she saw the door, technically the blanket, was opened. The blanket seemed like it was pushed aside, as if someone had walked in.

As she inhaled and gathered courage, she walked towards her home and peeked inside. A small gasp escaped her mouth when she stared at her sleeping bag. There was a big lump underneath the blanket.

"Hey! This is no place for someone like you!" Emelie exclaimed, surprised by the intensity of her own voice. She assumed that it was the man from earlier. Her chest started to grow number by the second, from the rapid beating of her heart.

The figure didn't respond.

She started to creep towards it cautiously and with sweaty hands, grabbed the baseball bat from the floor. When she was only a few inches away from the sleeping bag, she shakily pulled the blanket. A dirty man with a full grey beard opened his eyes. Emelie's eyes were as wide as the man's when he sat up, almost too quickly for a human to do.

"Sir. . .I think you're in the wrong house," Emelie whispered and gripped the baseball bat tighter. She didn't know what to do, she didn't have anywhere else to go. If she were to die now, she would have chosen to die from jumping off the bridge.

"You were supposed to die," the old man whispered, but Emelie didn't see his mouth move, yet she remained calm, thinking it was only a trick of light, as only half of his face was lit up by the candlelight on the table. The color of his eyes faded and seemed like they were staring into the distance. His face showed no expression as his mouth moved to speak, "That bastard must've interfered with my plan again."

The man's head tilted downwards, and he started to chant gibberish words under his breath. The hair on Emelie's arms stood up and sweat was starting to form on her forehead when she realized that this old man wasn't really an old man.

Emelie furrowed her eyebrows, confused, "I don't-"

The man grabbed Emelie with a blink of an eye, his rough hands wrapped around her neck, throwing her on the ground and climbing on top of her. Her arms were pinned to her sides tightly and it was near impossible to get away. She clawed her nails on the ground when the old man tightened his grip. She couldn't breathe, nor could she even gasp for a little air. Blood rushed to her face as she squirmed aggressively while she kept kicking, out of her control.

"Please!" she managed to choke out. Everything slowly blurred. Her mouth was wide open as she felt the air in her lungs depleting, her face turned in a dark shade red, and her neck was tightening every second. "Please leave!"

"Your species should cease to exist," the old man spoke in a slow manner, his voice deep and raspy, "You all are nothing but a defected race, and the only reason that you step foot on Earth is for us to be entertained by watching your foolish and irresponsible doings. Your types like to walk away from their problems, leaving flames in their footsteps, yet they hope that everything will be fixed in time. They are afraid of judgement, afraid of being in the lowest point of society, but now, judgement doesn't exist anymore."

Emelie was losing her senses one by one, tears escaping her tightly closed eyes. She didn't mind seeing her parents again.

"Now's the time for a new generation, where intelligent life forms will be born and will mold this world on how it should've been. Mankind has lost their meaning in life, killing themselves when Mother Earth needs them during the most desperate times. Rejoice," he hissed like a snake, not noticing the figure behind him. "Now I'm just doing what you humans are so afraid to do-"

"Excuse me," the familiar voice behind the old man said.

The old man slightly tilted his head upwards and loosened his grip around Emelie's throat little by little until she gasped for air, pulling herself away from whatever it was that attacked her.

"What brings you here?" the old man asked, looking over his bony shoulder.

"To stop you from interfering with my plans," the man answered back nonchalantly once again, repeating the words that the old man had said earlier.

When Emelie caught her breath, she sat up and looked at the man who had saved her life, intentionally or unintentionally. Her jaw dropped when she found out who he was. It was the man from earlier.

"I see," the old man hissed again. He stood up and faced the individual wearing a black suit.

"The time of these people is not yet over. They're not even supposed to take away their lives and now you're killing them for your own good," the young man said.

Who exactly is he? What are they? Emelie thought, watching the two men. It didn't seem like they were on good terms, too. She turned her head towards the door, and looked at the night sky. She could run outside, but curiosity got the best of her, so she remained put, rubbing her sore neck.

The old man snarled, "You only borrowed a body of a human. That doesn't exactly make you a hero."

"I never said I was one," the young man replied, maintaining his posture. "And this body is not borrowed. This body is mine."

One of the old man's eyebrows raised.

"This is a deceased body I found on the ocean."

Emelie's whole body stiffened. She realised that it was probably the same person that he talked about earlier who jumped off the bridge.

"That is depressing--you didn't save him though," the old man replied. "This dirty old man's body is in fact alive. Was, I mean. Was alive."

"That wasn't part of what you're supposed to do," the young man took another step towards the entity that took over the old man's body. "What you're doing will not be tolerated."

"He'll be dead either way," black orbs appeared, floating inside the old man's pupils. "It was all my master's orders."

"Is that a threat?"

"Maybe, but not to you," the old man snapped, but was unsure of his words. He looked at Emelie instead, who shivered in fear, hugging herself.

The young man took a few seconds to answer and he stared down into the old man's empty, soulless eyes that never blinked. "Let me repeat," he leaned forward and was now inches away from his wrinkly face, undisturbed by his almost-white pupils . "Is that a threat?"

The old man finally blinked, the orbs were now non-existent. After what seemed like a minute, he finally said, "No. I'm afraid it is not." He looked down in defeat and took a step back. He had a plan, and he decided that he will be patient enough to follow it. He grinned; his broken, yellow teeth were disturbing to look at. "My apologies, your highness-"

"Leave before I shred your own selfless entity into black smoke."

The old man arched downward limply, doing a very lazy bow. The tips of his toes started to touch the ground as he slowly ascended, until he was a few inches away from the ground.. He left the crate in silence, making no sound as he floated over scrapped metal and empty cans outside, a grin still stuck on his pale face.

"What in the bloody heavens was that?" Emelie asked, crawling towards the door. She peered over where the old man had left, but he had already gone.

"No matter," the young man assured her calmly. He crouched down in front of her and looked at her slightly bruised neck. "Looked like it hurt."

"'Course it did!"

He looked at her neck and brushed his fingers slowly over the side of it, sending shivers down her spine. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to. . . It's difficult coping in this world." He shut his eyes tightly, knowing that he should not tell any more information. "I mean, I-"

"Please," Emelie begged. "Tell me who you are."

The man shook his head. "I wish I could tell you-"

"But you can't?" she finished the sentence for him.

He nodded slowly and looked anywhere but Emelie's eyes.

"You're not from this world, are you?" she asked, putting a strand of yellow hair behind her ear.

The man's grey eyes swiftly went left and right as he looked around, something he does when he's nervous.

Emelie nodded to her own question. "That's fine with me." She sighed as she regained her posture. She decided to let things flow the way the mysterious man wanted to. To her, he seemed harmless, and assuming that he was powerful, he still looked cautious towards her, which she found a little odd. He was very careful on what he touches and says. "Doug, right?"

The man thought for a moment before he answered, "Yes," he affirmed. "That's me."