A Reminder

"Go pick one," Alley told Asher, placing the last item in their cart and checking it off their grocery list. "Ma said only one since she's cooking when they get back."

"Aw, I can't choose between the chocolate wafers and the potato chips!"

Alley sighed. "Okay, but just for today since it's your birthday."

"Yay! I'll go get them!"

He watched his brother skip away with a smile. Yet the smile faltered when he noticed a figure in a red hooded jacket making their way toward Asher.

A shiver ran down Alley's spine. Setting aside his cart, he briskly walked toward his brother.

It wasn't merely because the man seemed unfamiliar—in a small district where everyone knew everyone, strangers were rare. No, it was something more unsettling.

"Hi, Mister. How can we help you?" Alley interjected, arriving breathless and positioning himself between the man and his brother.

The man's face sank deeper into his hood, and Alley caught a glimpse when he glanced up. The face looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite recall who he was.

Standing up from his crouch, the man replied, "I was just asking him a few questions."

Alley found it odd for someone to be questioning a child they didn't know personally. Yet it wasn't the main reason why he felt the urgency.

"You can ask me," Alley said, his voice as stern as he could manage, his heart pounding. He was certain he had heard this man's voice before.

"It's fine, thanks."

He forced a smile. "Ah, then, have a good day."

The man nodded and turned, making Alley step back a little.

His hairs stood on end from the slicing whispers as the man's back faced him.

The smoke was close to his face. A towering, ominous cloud of shifting faces, appearing, disappearing, swirling into a dark haze, looming behind this man's back. The sheer size of it filled him with unease.

Feet pasted to the ground, he closed his eyes and waited until the eerie murmurs stopped.

The whisperings quieted. Alley opened his eyes and released a long deep breath, a numbing sensation coursing through his chest as he relaxed.

He crouched to meet eyes with Asher, holding him by the shoulders. "Don't talk to that man again."

"Why?" the child asked, puzzled. "He was our old neighbor, Mister Duan."

"Duan?"

"Yeah, he's friends with Papa."

"Duan." He tried recalling the name. "Duan," he said a second time, triggering a flood of memories. "Duan..." he whispered for the last time, and he felt the grocery aisles swirl in a blur of colors.

He gripped Asher tighter to steady himself. His eyes refused to blink. They burned, they strained. His heart was up in his throat, each beat hammering in his ears. The throbbing spread to his head, all other sounds blocked out. Only the relentless high-pitched sound took over, growing louder, and ringing... ringing...

"—ther!" called Asher, his voice cutting through the daze.

Alley finally blinked, a tear falling on his cheek.

"Brother, you're hurting me," the child added, wincing under Alley's tight grip.

"A-ah, I'm sorry." Alley quickly wiped his face, trying to compose himself.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not, I just... didn't blink for long." He mustered a smile.

"Mama said you should blink at least every 4 seconds!"

"Yes, I will remember that," he chuckled and stood up with a sigh. "Let's go get your snacks."

"Okay." Asher led his brother to the snack aisle where familiar faces awaited. Their neighbors were there, exchanging whispered words and sidelong glances.

Alley lowered his head in a polite bow as they passed by, but one of the women immediately pulled her nine-year-old closer. "Don't get too close," she said in a cutting whisper.

Alley noticed the smoke from behind the woman, ignoring the words he heard. It was a meter tall, larger than usual, yet not as menacing as the one he'd seen earlier.

Asher handed him the snacks, pulling his focus back. "Oh, these two?"

"Mm!"

"Alright, let's go check them out."

The child nodded with enthusiasm. As they headed to the cashier, Alley couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on them, as whispers gradually quieted behind their steps.

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A gray velvet sofa served as a partition between the living room and the adjacent dining and kitchen areas. Sitting on it meant facing the television, and turning further to the left at 8 o'clock would reveal the main door.

On the right, just beside the television, a small hallway could be found with three more doors leading to the bedrooms.

The house was fairly small but sufficient for a family of four. It was cold and dim inside, with only the flicker of the screen alleviating the darkness.

Three empty pizza boxes sat on the crystal table, surrounded by opened chip bags and empty soda cans scattered across the floor.

The stench of junk food hung heavily in the air, mingling with the scents of incense and cheap cologne. Instead of masking the oily smell, it created a confusing aroma.

Alley glanced at the time on his phone—it was 2 AM. The day had slipped away, and the party was long over, yet their parents were still not home.

In their long wait, he found himself nodding off, as Asher was already asleep, his small form curled up beside him on the sofa.

He checked his phone once more for any messages or calls, but there were none. Tossing his phone aside, he turned his focus back to the television.

As he sank into the sofa, his mind wandered back to the grocery store. Then a wisp, irregular in form, smoke-like, peeked from the corner of the living room, diverting his attention momentarily.

He stared at it until it disappeared as if it had dissipated.

There was no change in Alley's expression. He encountered them every day after all. Like the man at the grocery store, their neighbors, the cashier... everyone.

Smoke of different sizes loomed behind people's backs, and his parents were no different.

He glanced at the small altar on the right, recalling that he had burned incense just a few minutes ago.

Then came a reminder, as a waft of burning spices and wood drifted in the air, and he deeply inhaled it.

The mingled aroma made his nose itch, but he felt relieved and shrugged off the uneasiness.

There was a sudden interruption to the late-night show, causing Alley to perk up.

"News at 3 AM?" muttered Alley. His gaze fixed on the screen, the faint traces of drowsiness shelved at the back of his mind.

"Breaking news. A tragic incident has occurred downtown in an alley at Urban Harmony apartment complexes, where the remains of 17-year-old Melina Halls were discovered on top of a car in an inexplicable manner. The alarming incident was reported by a resident who had heard a car alarm set off at 1 AM," the anchor reported with a somber tone.

Alley grasped tightly on a pillow beside him as he sat at the edge of his seat.

"From the 12th floor in the same apartment unit, two additional bodies were found, identified as her parents, Kathryn and Freddie Halls, both victims of fatal stab wounds. Officials released a brief statement, mentioning a possibility of a murder-suicide, yet the motive behind the devastating event remains unclear."

He clenched his jaw as he absorbed the grim details, a knot tightening in his stomach.

The news anchor's words lingered in his ears, each piece of information and blurred images of the scene he reluctantly took in.

He saw it, and he recognized it. The black blood.

"Crowns City Police Superintendent, Marcus Vendel, stated, 'We are actively conducting interviews, examining the scene, and awaiting forensic results to piece together this tragic puzzle. We urge anyone with information to come forward.'"

Grabbing the remote, his fingers clasped around it. He began to shake his knees, awaiting something.

After a few footage of the interviews and scenes, the anchor continued, "The priests collaborating with the police during the investigation remained cautious in concluding any potential demon involvement. The incident has left the community—"

Alley finally turned off the television with a heavy sigh, cold sweat trickling down his temples. The news settled upon him like an irremovable weight.

He breathed deeply. "Right, i-it's okay... it's..." trailing off, his lips trembled with every word. He drank water to ease his dry throat and relaxed in his seat.

The calm returned, and the silence grew louder. Each blink felt like a chore as his eyelids became heavier.

Sinking deeper into his seat, he ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, giving in to the inevitable.

And within a few minutes, Alley succumbed to sleep.