Yawning in the hall by the couch, Steel looked around. Searching for something that might be out of place. Finding none, he glanced to the clock by the bed's head.
An hour more and work starts for Steel. He leaned on his couch and brought a hand to his head. Running his fingers over the scalp under the wavy hair. Contemplating on what needed to be done. Or rather, on how to do the usual routine now that he's got to look after some girl the priest had plucked out; probably from an alley somewhere. A stinky alley.
Steel had chosen the night to work because that was the best hour to be doing the job. Also, it was the time where disturbances usually occurs and the signs was much easier to identify. An exorcist some might call him. A priest, others claimed. He hated it though. Whenever one regarded him as Father, he felt uncomfortable. Steel knew himself very well and such a title didn't suit him, at all. His heart was filled with hatred and was hard as a rock. Or at least, that's how he sees them. It was only possible with the gift he'd gotten from back then.
A gentle breeze suddenly blew across his face and the presence was felt. Steel smirked. He turned his head. First, to look at the closed window beside him before he faced the figure that stood by his bedside. Her pale-blue face with heavy make up of bruises and of dry blood, stared back at him. In a white see-through nightgown, she glided towards him. Her clothes as well as her red long hair floated about her as if she was underwater. Her voluptuous body came close to him but never touching. Random pitches of various voices hissed into his mind. Followed by a series of soft whispers. In ancient tongue they echoed before her voice was made clear.
"I thought you said there'll be no other. Why did you let her in?" soft and seducing her voice was. With the gentle tilt of her head and the slow blinking of her sharp eyes, she asked.
"She's human, Jane."
"That's what worries me more, Brian. What'll happen to us, then?" her hand reached for Steel's face. Her cold index finger traced his jawline before resting under his chin.
"Nothing will change," Steel replied.
"Better not, darling. But, there's something about her that I like. She's different. Much like you," her swollen lips then came close to his.
Steel frowned upon hearing this but his composure remained, unwavered by the approach of his childhood friend. It had happened too many times before where the kiss from the dead was but a touch of cold skin, therefore he no longer squirmed or felt disgusted by it. The only reason for Jane to have entered his apartment was because he'd allowed her to. He'd invited her in. Steel remembered their first encounter back when he was playing in the sandbox at the orphanage. Aside from William, Jane too was his mentor. She was the one who'd told him to change his name but the dead prostitute couldn't bring herself to call him by the new one. It simply couldn't work that way. The sound of the door that opened made both of them turn. Steel looked at Birdie for a moment before he gave a sharp tilt of his head to Jane. She faded into a smoky wisp slowly untill he could no longer felt her presence. Then he grunted to the girl's word before he began making his way to the kitchen. Retrieving two bowls from the counter and a couple of glasses.
"And how do you think that'll reflect on me?" he asked without looking as he poured cereal into the bowl.
"Or did you simply not give a damn about it?" he threw another as he took a jug of milk from the fridge.
Pouring the drink into the glasses and into his bowl but leaving hers as it was, he took his share and left the jug by the bowl and glass for her on the counter. Making his way to the couch and sat himself on it as he began his breakfast. A very late, breakfast.
"Eat," he said. He hadn't got anything from the grocery store just yet and the cereal was what he'd left. Chewing, he turned his head to look at Birdie.