The girl walked through the heavy wooden door, pausing briefly at the door, wondering if she should really do this. Her mascara has been reduced merely to charcoal streaks crawling down her ashen cheeks. She pushed the thought aside and strided in, confidence absent, fear very present. The man, thing, was seated in a large oak armchair, his back to her. “Excuse me,” her voice creaked, the silence disrupted. “Please sit down child,” The man, thing, answered. She walked to the chair opposite to him and felt a rush of remorse, angst and despair bundled together. The chair felt just like the one she was sitting in when she got the news that the child she had raised for 2 years had been fatally shot in a drive-by at the daycare he used to reside. “You feel the familiarity of the chair, do you not child,” he asked. She looked at his figure startled, the light of the candle flickering dark shapes at him, making him look monstrous. “It was the chair in your office is it not?” She choked, tears pouring from her eyes, down her trembling chin. “I want to ask you to bring back my baby boy, sir,” she asked without hesitation. “I know this, but what I am not certain of is if you’re willing to pay the price,” He responded, his voice cold like ice. “I will pay whatever price be needed, no matter if I must rob a million banks to do so,” she screamed. “Mmm, your anger must not be present in this room for I will not tolerate it. Do you understand?” He questioned. “Forgive me,” she croaked. “Well then, may your child be resurrected,” he answered. At that exact moment the women’s phone buzzed lightly in her jean’s pocket. She grasped it and pressed the send button. “Hello,” she said, her voice mimicking that of a calm person’s. The person on the other end talked for a while and soon tears welled in her eyes. “My baby is alive, thank you, thank you so much,” she whispered, “Now what is your price?” He stood, the candle casting light upon his demonic face. The woman sat, too stunned to even move. “Your life is my price, dear, dear child,” he said in an unusually even tone. Her eyes grew in terror as he lowered himself upon her throat, hungry for another soul.