“Just chillin’.”

She sat back against the pillar and grinned at him, reaching out to offer him a drag of her cigarette. He took up the offer, letting the smoke curl around the inside of his mouth before releasing it and handing back the small cylinder. She took another drag for herself and flicked the excess ash off the cherry.

He looked her over again with a question in his eyes. She caught it and shook her head. He sighed, not surprised in the least. Honestly, he hadn’t been expecting anything else. He sat down next to her and reached out for the cigarette once more. She passed it to him and pulled a half-full pack out of her pocket, pulling a full one out for herself.

He pulled a lighter out of his pocket before she could get at hers and lit the paper in her mouth before she could object. She smiled wanly at him, and he didn’t even look at her face, as if to let her know his intentions weren't bad.

They sat there for a while, just smoking. An older couple walked by and gave them a sympathetic look, as if the corruption of youth was to blamed on the tobacco industry. She grinned happily at the couple and he ignored the looks and turned up the Dimmu pouring from the headphones around his neck. The older two looked away and hurried along.

Other than that, their wait continued without incident. He changed the CD in his player once to something a bit more placid: Lamb of God. She nodded her head to the music and lit him another cancer stick.

They sat there for some time. The sky started to slightly darken and they still sat, their backs against the pillar in front of a grocery on the side of the street, staring out to the pavement and asphalt.

Eventually, a dull roar coming from the south reached their ears. He heaved a sigh of relief and she looked upwards, touching the pentagram that she called necklace and muttering something unintelligible. They sat for a few minutes longer, listening to the sound increase in size and volume, until he stomped out his cigarette and stood up.

She watched him stand, facing the west, and give a low whistle. Then he turned towards her, smiled tenderly, and offered her a hand up.

Mistrust filled her eyes as she took his hand. He looked away from her, so he allowed him to pull her off of the cement. They both stood facing the west. He whistled again and she held the ornament on her necklace, looking south.

The older couple walked by once more, done with a day of shopping, and stopped for a moment to look at the two younger ones. The man turned to his woman and began to whisper something in her ear.

The roar grew even louder. The man found himself unable to speak, unable to hear anything except the screaming of his lover.

Her eyes glowed as she stared at him, muttering, still holding her necklace. The man’s eyes turned black and his woman turned, began to run. The girl turned back to the west, still holding pentacle, still muttering. The man sighed, as if relieved, and began to head in the direction of the younger two.

The girl followed his movement with her eyes as he passed them and began his walk into the street. The boy never took his eyes off of the setting sun and he never stopped whistling. The music in his CD player had stopped. Perhaps the batteries had died.

The roar came, with a great wind beside it, in front of it, behind it. The man’s blackened eyes could not see what cause the noise with a great many vocals behind it, rising and falling in length and pitch, voices that screamed in pain and suffering and lust and hate. He felt his legs grow weaker, his will bend, and his voice rise to become one of the many.

She looked away just in time to not see the amalgamation of the two. His eyes never wavered. He continued his watch and she continued her murmuring, never falling out of silent sync with one another.

The dark mass stopped in the street and roared with hunger and pain. A wave of negative energy poured out of it towards them. She released her necklace, took his hand, and began to walk toward the black ball of souls yarned together into what one might describe as a skein of hatred. She smiled as she removed a thread from the ball, beckoning him to do the same. He turned, beginning to remove a soul in the manner as she had. The he hesitated, looking at her with another question in his eyes.

She didn’t look back at him. This time, he didn’t hesitate.

The black ball rolled on down the street towards the north. He watched it go, almost sadly. Part of him longed to go with it.

He bent down to the road, picking up the pentagram that had fallen there. The chain lay a few feet further down the road. That, too, was collected.

Back to the pillar in front of the grocery he trudged, tears in his eyes. He pulled out the CD player. It seemed to have stopped working. Sitting down, he searched his pockets for a cigarette ir some batteries. None.

Dejectedly, he sat there for a time. With the necklace in his pocket, he watch another couple come down the sidewalk to go into the grocery. This time, he wasn’t even noticed. Sighing, he pulled out his CD case, wondering what he should listen to when he next got the chance. The case full of plastic, however, left something to be desired.

Footsteps neared him. He didn’t look up. More couples going into the store, perhaps.

Cigarette smoke whirled around him, he looked up slightly, just enough to see the feet of that which stood in front of him. He took the chance and continued to look up the body of it.

Another boy, around his age, had noticed him alone. He was shocked. The boy grinned at him in a way that he felt was familiar, hauntingly so. The boy took a drag off of the cigarette he was holding and looked down at him. He looked up at the boy questioningly, wondering.

“Just chillin’,” the boy said, offering him a drag.