72 Pillar

There I sat in a chair of fine leather, engaged in what felt like the most intimidating staring contest ever. The opponent? An old man I'd been led to believe was Madelyn's grandfather. He remained silent, his eyes locked onto mine, peering deep into my soul. The tension was palpable, and I was starting to understand why Madelyn was so uncomfortable.

"Why are you so nervous, my boy?" Madelyn's grandfather finally spoke, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

I chuckled awkwardly, attempting to break the ice. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just pretty shy when it comes to meeting new people."

In all honesty, I wasn't lying. Meeting new people had always been an uncomfortable experience for me, but this old man took it to a whole new level of unbearable.

The old man's sympathetic smile was reassuring. "Well, don't worry, young man. I promise I won't bite."

"Yea, right," I thought, faking another laugh.

"The truth of the matter is, we brought you into our home for a few answers," the old man explained, glancing over at Madelyn, who sat next to me in a similarly lavish chair.

I could read the unspoken story in Madelyn's eyes as she sat there, her face marked with the aftermath of a heated conversation with her grandfather. It didn't take much to discern that their discussion hadn't gone well – the red, puffy eyes and swollen cheeks painted a clear picture. To me, it was evident. Madelyn had been crying, and she'd been hurt.

The rush of anger surged within me, directed solely at this old man. My thoughts of respect transformed into a dangerous blend of rage, echoing a memory from long ago.

"Hey, old man," I growled, my fists clenched in anger.

"Did you hit her?" I demanded, pointing at Madelyn's swollen face, surprising both her and her grandfather.

Madelyn's grandfather remained silent as he observed my explosion of fury.

"Yes, yes I did," the old man responded, unapologetic and imperturbable.

My body seemed to react on its own, fueled by a response that only infuriated me further. Filled with anger and outrage, I lunged at the old man, ready to strike him in the face.

My clenched fist raced toward the old man's face, driven by unyielding anger and no mercy, but as it neared its target, the punch came to a sudden halt.

My eyes opened wide with shock. "Madelyn?" I stammered, seeing her standing before me, my fist ensnared in her right hand.

I hadn't seen her move, and as I gazed into her eyes, they were as cold and sharp as daggers. This was a woman poised to strike like a predator, and as I stared into Madelyn's intense, piercing eyes, a bead of sweat formed on my forehead.

Madelyn's once-piercing eyes softened as she implored, "Ethan, please, calm down."

"We only want to talk," she added, and her tight grip around my fist finally loosened, which was a relief. I had no doubt she could have broken my hand if she had chosen to.

I settled back in my chair, and Madelyn did the same as she sat in the one next to mine. I couldn't help but rub my knuckles, eyeing the old man who remained seated in his leather throne, seemingly unperturbed.

"You're quite the fiery young man, aren't you?" the old man chuckled. "I like that."

"Enough with the games," I demanded, my patience waning. "I want to know what's going on." I wasn't interested in beating around the bush.

"Did what I saw really happen?!" I couldn't contain my shout.

I turned to Madelyn. "That man had pitch-black eyes, and you cut off his arm!"

"That was no man," Madelyn's grandfather explained, adding to my confusion.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my brow furrowed.

"There was a time when that creature could've been considered a man, but that time had long passed."

I struggled to find the words to voice my bewilderment. Part of me wanted to say that the old man was crazy, as well as Madelyn, but they both seemed oddly calm and unwavering in their convictions.

"If he wasn't a man, then what was he exactly?" I inquired, feeling a sense of unease creeping over me.

The room fell silent for a few moments. "He was a demon."

"A demon?" I questioned, disbelief evident in my tone, even though a part of me recognized that it started to make sense. All the things I had seen, could it really be true?

"They do exist," Madelyn stated, probably noticing the skepticism on my face.

"Indeed they do," Madelyn's grandfather affirmed, rising from his seat and moving towards the fireplace.

The old man stared into the blazing flames. "They exist within the darkest shadows, in the most demoralized hearts, in the most broken minds."

The old man turned to me, his gaze piercing. "As well as in the deepest crevices of the world."

My hands began to shake as I listened to Madelyn's grandfather explain about demons. "Why, why is a demon after me?"

"There are two things that demons desire more than anything," the old man continued, his voice grave. "Human bodies and human souls."

The words sent a chill up my spine, and I shivered involuntarily.

The old man stroked his chin, pondering. "The soul of a pillar is the most satisfying."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Pillar... that's what that demon called me," I mused, recalling our previous encounter. "What is a pillar? Who is Solomon?" I asked, feeling utterly lost.

Madelyn's grandfather let out a long, tired sigh as he walked over and settled into the leather chair behind the wooden desk.

"Solomon... was the wise and powerful king of Israel," he began, speaking with a deep respect. "He was a true master of mysticism and the savior of the world."

I couldn't help but feel like I had stepped into the pages of a comic book; the concept of demons and ancient kings who had saved the world seemed otherworldly.

"A pillar is someone who fights against the darkness," the old man continued, his voice weighted with history. "The blood of the great King Solomon runs through their veins, and they hold within themselves one of the 72 demons that almost destroyed the world so long ago. That is the existence known as a pillar."

The answers the old man was providing were difficult to grasp, and yet, amidst the confusion, I still clung to one burning question.

"So I'm a pillar?" I asked, and to my own confusion, there was a trace of hope in my voice.

Madelyn and the old man both looked at me in silence for a few moments.

"No," he replied bluntly.

My eyes widened in shock. "Wait, what?"

***

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