“May I request a game of chess sir?”

“Shouldn’t you be in school lad?”

“I dropped out.”

“That's no good son…. Okay, but let’s make a wager on it.”

“Sounds interesting, if I win, you have to find or give me a job. What do you want?”

“I want you to go back to school.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“You agreed to that pretty easily.”

“Just play, since I challenged I’ll be black.”

“You sure you don’t want white kid? I’m good at this game.”

“It’s fine, I’m good too.”

Twenty minutes later.

“It’s a tie old man.”

“.... Who are you?”

“That is of no import right now. What is important is this question, what do we do in the event of a tie? I propose we each give an order to the other, one within reason of course.”

“Fine, tell me how you learned to play like that.”

“You want the truth or something you can believe?”

“Don’t speak nonsense boy, I want the truth.”

“I’ve been actively practicing chess for at least an hour a day for the last, oh I don’t know. Four decades? Five? I’ve occasionally played the game for a much longer time than that though.”

“.... I’ll take your word for it.”

“You believe me?”

“Why not? It’s easier to believe than some kid coming close to beating ME in chess. Now tell me your request.”

“Never tell anyone about me, oh, and beat the russian. I’ve got twenty bucks on the great Bobby Fischer.”

“You don’t even have to tell me about the russian. I guess that means you know who I am?”

“Naturally, to tell you the truth this is the first game I haven’t won in a long time. I was actually hoping you would beat me soundly. Show me I have lots left to learn in this hobby. A tie works just as well though I suppose.”

“You're annoying. Play again sometime?”

“Only if you beat the russian. I must be off now, have a good day Mr. Fischer.”

“Looks like there's more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy. Still, I wonder what would have happened if that boy took the white? What an unexpectedly good day this has become.”

“What in the world has happened to my chance at being normal?” Thought Erin as she idly wandered through the windy ways of the labyrinth that is known as the local mall. A place of refuge in the anonymous swathe of humanity. Here Erin could pretend to be just another normal person and no one would know the wiser. Though she suspected that younger boys might have sharper senses and be on to her. She had caught that demographic staring at her multiple times. It was a little stressful. Erin hoped she didn't attrack any of their attention today because she did not need more stress.

Erin had indeed been through a most distressing couple of days. The existence that her parents told her scary stories about was not the absolute evil they described. Heck, her parents even worshiped it, him, whatever he was. He looks like some dumb teenager, but he acts so much older and younger at the same time.

He reminded Erin of an old senile person with a history of being clinically insane. Treating the world as if it was his own personal playground, but then again, maybe it really is. From what she had heard, there has never been anybody that could really stop him from doing what he wanted anyways. At least not for long. The real issue was Joshua’s ambiguity. No one had a clue what his goals were, other than the obvious one. And Erin thought maybe that included Joshua himself.

You see, Joshua well and truly wished to die. Beyond that, who knows? Now dieing wasn’t something particularly difficult to do, people did it all the time. Naturally, unnaturally, either way, death is something that happens to everybody eventually. But not to Joshua. Erin hadn’t yet killed anyone herself, but she knew her parents had.

“Should that bother me?” Erin whispered to herself. It was something she had known for as long as she could remember. One of her earliest memories was of Mom talking about the best gun and bullet caliber to pierce bullet-proof glass over the dinner table. Normal girls didn’t have memories like that.

There was one thing Erin knew for sure. “It’s all his fault.” If there was no Joshua then her parents wouldn’t be psycho cultists and Erin Sterling could have been a normal girl with normal parents. Instead Erin was the kind of person who could build a bomb from common kitchen materials in 20 minutes. The person. No, the THING that stole her normal life from her at birth was now in her house; grinning with that smug evil smile while her parents catered to his every need. It reminded Erin of a bird she had watched a documentary about, the cuckoo.

“I have to call it brother? This is a bad joke...” sighed Erin as she reached new levels of empathy for the poor little chicks that had to share their nests with an invader. But what to do? Erin slowed to a stop. I can only imagine what is going to happen at school tomorrow. To share a social debut with some immortal…. thing. Maybe I should pack a couple of tear gas grenades, just in case.

While Erin’s thoughts took a rather alarming turn, a large man in a suit approached her from behind. Feeling the shadow of the figure looming over her, Erin instantly created a reasonable distance from him and began to assess the man who got too close for comfort. The man smiled wryly at her actions and softly applauded her instantaneous detection and judgment skills.

“You are as remarkable as I’ve heard, miss Sterling” praised the man. Erin made a face at the “miss” she hated such formality because it always accompanied company she would rather not entertain.

“Thank you.” said Erin impassively. “May I ask what you want with me or do I have to call my mother?” The suit's healthy complexion instantly greyed into what could be described as the pallor of death. So he was aware of mother's reputation. Good.

“N-No that will not be necessary.” Erin felt satisfaction at the fear this posh man showed after the mere mention of her mother. Erin reaffirmed her goal that one day it would be she who could turn men into nervous wrecks at the mere thought of her.

“Then what do you want?”

“I’m just here to evaluate the origins of the explosion that occurred in your pool yesterday at 7:28 pm. There is no need to bring your mother into this, afterall, she is busy. Besides, I work with her. I’m sure you understand that our mutual employer is very interested in keeping this little incident on the down low. We are lucky only a couple of people called the cops. The matter was quickly suppressed.” Erin knew she wasn’t much for thinking, but she did understand that this man worked with her mom. But wait! Mom works more than one job! The question was who did he work for? Her mom’s first secret job, the Pact, or her secret secret job with the…. other less cool sounding organization. Actually, did mom even have a job of the non-secret variety?

While Erin became more and more lost in her thoughts, her expression grew darker and darker, until her pretty features became distorted into something less human and more demonic in nature. Uneasy at the killing intent this girl was letting off, the man decided to engage in a tactical retreat. She was starting to make a scene! As the yet unnamed man slipped away he once more gave a wry smile as he ruefully thought that the young Erin was definitely Murderous Marsha’s daughter.

Erin’s mind raced faster and faster taking up all her concentration, she didn’t even notice that she was left alone with her thoughts. “What should I tell this man?” Erin screamed mentally. “What? THINK! Wait, what side am I even on? My parents? But they serve the basic equivalent of satan! I think! Were all the stories really lies? Should I just give away Joshua’s location? Would that ruin my chance to go to public school? What is the right thing to do?” Erin thought and thought until her brain vowed revenge in the form of nightmares. Erin finally gave up thinking about it, she was starting to get face cramps.

Bloodshot eyes regained a small glimmer of humanity and sluggishly went to work surveying the surroundings. Erin found herself alone. The time showed she had somehow spent the last two hours thinking. The mall was closing and it was time to go home. Erin automatically began her long and weary trek back to home and, more importantly, her high-class bed.

“I’ll just do what I want.” Erin felt that this answer was best.