Chapter 10: Betrayals and Shades

James' phone sat on the table, as it began to vibrate to announce a call. James smiled, hoping and thinking that Kate was calling. His smile turned upside down, when he saw that it was, unfortunately, Michael's name dirtying his phone display. James took his phone, even though he was not keen to do so. Michael voice streamed out of the phone's speaker, not unkind, unlike his tone the previous time he talked to James, "Jaaaames," he said, lengthening the time he said that one word, almost as if that was an apology for his previous speech. "Michael" replied James, trying to be mean and manly in his voice. He didn't lengthen the name, instead saying it short and concise. Michael was displeased, but didn't show it to James, "I am sorry about the thing last time we talked. What I said." "Yeah, hard to forget when someone tells you to go kill yourself." "Yeah, I didn't mean that." "Thank god for that. And thank the lord that I don't care what you say. Or else I wouldn't be answering. I wouldn't have vocal cords, at least the world would be happy." "I said I didn't mean that." "I don't believe that for a second. Anyway, does it matter? Why are you calling?" "I need to talk to you." "I thought you were kissing Edmund's boots?" "His name's Edward. And I haven't signed him on yet. I don't want to." "Why, you love me that much?" "As much you are a parasite, I guess, I do. You are a good kid. Please meet me at the office as soon as you can."

When James kept the phone down, he felt a smile creep onto his face. He knew Mike would come crawling back to him. And it wasn't bad that the publisher had called him a 'good kid'. James walked to his door, and opened it. The world outside was grey with rainclouds, and rain and thunder filled the sky. The grey drops of water fell to the grey ground. James walked down the metal staircase. When he reached outside Kate's door, he reached out to tap the door, but stopped before he could touch the door. He felt that it would be better if he told her in the night that Mike had taken him back. Instead, he completed his walk down the staircase, and his grey boots touched the grey ground. He walked towards Mike's office.

When James walked into the building, he noticed no one was there in the receptionist's seat, where Martha used to sit, and Kate was supposed to sit now. He opened the door to Mike's office, and found him standing and staring out of his window. "James. How is your neck?" James was dumbstruck, "What about my neck?" James said, nervously. Michael turned to face him, his face that of a stern and disappointed father, "I know, Mike." "Know what?" "I know what you did with the rope. I am, I'm sorry, James, for all I said. I never meant it." James felt anger coarse through his veins, "How in god's grey earth did you find that out." "It doesn't matter." "It does, it certainly does," James felt a lump in his throat when he uttered the next words, softly and sadly, "It was Kate, wasn't it?" "It doesn't matter." "That's confirmation, dipsh*t. Naff off, and I do not want to see your ugly face again. If I see your name on my recent phones list, I shall shove the mobile deep enough down your throat that it will sever your voice cords. Huh, the world would be better without your vocal cords." James stormed out from the office, and out of the building, He was quite sad that Kate wasn't there at the office, as he could not threaten her too. The world outside was green, the grey worn off as the rain dwindled and the sun and rainbows filled the sky. James felt tears stream down his cheek, grey things that were did not belong in this green world, just as he didn't.

James opened his eyes, his head resting on the wooden desk. Arthur was not at home, neither was Kate, and he was thankful for it, as he touched the cold water that covered his face. Tears stained the desk, grey on brown, and tears stained his shirt, grey on blue. He raised his head, and was completely surprised to find a mirror where his window usually was. His reflection was a shade, dark with no discernible features. As stood up, the desk and chair below James disappeared, till only the mirror was in front of him, and only the mirror was behind. The shade now was armoured, a white paladin with a raised helm, so that his chiselled face, a reflection of James', and blue eyes could be seen. It spoke, angelic it's voice, "Look at you, you little gullible idiot. Crying over a girl. Remind you of something." "Kate could not have done this. She wouldn't." "We both know that's not true. We both know it was always too good to be true. An ugly arseh*le like us, who would want to be with us." "Laura was once with us." "And Laura left. Funny, you thought mankind was beautiful on the surface but rotten to it's very core, when I could use that particular descriptor with you, off course you aren't as beautiful. At least I find it funny." "Shut up! I don't want to hear you." "What, you gonna shove your phone down my throat? You can try, if you can find your phone. Gods, you make bad threats." "Shut up, please shut up." "See, you couldn't even stay combative for long enough to scare me. Who, in their right mind, would date a dipsh*t like you." "I am more than that. I am worth something." "What, your personality? Being depressed all the time is not a damn 'personality'. Or is it that shallow sh*t you write what makes you so attractive?" "Go away!" "Ah! There it is! That's the spirit. Curse the world. It doesn't deserve us. You should get that in your noggin." "I am better now. I know the world has beauty in it, something to live for." "Oh please! Can you hear that." As a matter of fact, James could hear 'that'. It seemed a small, inconsequential voice, and he traced it to the shoulders of the paladin. The shade opened it's mouth again, "Ah, there it is!" The shade picked up the creator of the sound, an ant-sized James resting on his shoulder, and held it out on his palm to show James. Looking at it, the reflection spoke again, "It is the angel on your shoulder. Such a measly and useless thing, don't you agree? Do you want to hold it." James held out his hand, and the armoured night reached out with his. Just before the shade's knuckles and James' outheld fingers touched, the reflection closed it's fist, and the small, squeaky voice stopped. When he opened his fist again, a small splatter of blood decorated his palm.

The creature behind the mirror reached out now, and his hand passed through the glass. He went for James' chest, and James backed away, but he only wanted the handkerchief in James' pocket. He removed the piece of cloth, and cleaned his palm with it. He then shoved it back into James' pocket. It began it's angelic speaking again, "I do like to be clean. You will understand." After seeing the bewildered expression James held, the shade chuckled, "Oh, you thought the angel was right? Gods, you wanted a smile to decorate your face forever?! Oh, I feel that the frown, that suits your face so much better, is a much better use of the muscles in your face, won't you agree?" "You, you killed him." "He was never useful. Or interesting, for that matter. A waste of blood, though. Now, my dumb*ss apprentice, go on, and damn the world to the depths of hell. No one, no one matters but you. They are peasants, unworthy of our patronage on their blighted earth." As he uttered it, the shade reached out one last time, but when his hand passed through the glass, the mirror shattered into a thousand, into a million pieces. Just as that, the white paladin disappeared behind the broken glass.