What A Bother

A steaming coffee sat on a worn out night stand that was missing half of its finish. The rest of the room was as old and worn as the poor little night stand. Except, that is, for a set of clothes that lay in a soft plush chair.

The door with its squeaking hinges of the mahogany door signaled the entrance of the occupant of the room. A man, dressed in various pastel shades, hurried to the plush chair. Closely following were his two companions who were both Angecur. The man who sported a nice golden brown tail threw the clothing off of the chair and sunk into. This golden eyed, pointy eared young man had the everyday occupation of being a villain. This was our beloved Skittles.

"Awful, Just awful." He looked over to the coffee cup, but didn't bother to move.

The blue Angecur shook his head as he shut the door with his back leg. He hopped on to the neatly folded bed before he proceeded to roll his small black eyes. "That was nothing," He said in a mild mannered voice.

"Fulmen, that seen back there was something all right! If we hadn't left when we did... I don't even want to think about it!" Skittles winced as he thought of what had just happened.

The red  Angecur huffed has it followed Fulmen's example. She glared at Skittles, "This whole time you've been looking at that coffee. It isn't going to levitate over there, so get up and get it or stop it."

"I've changed my mind, Taeda, you're the awful thing around here."

"Very funny. I'm going to sleep." She flopped onto the bed, and did exactly that.

"Sad how your witty remarks are wasted on her, Skittles," said Fulmen as he closed his eyes.

"Yes, a real pity. I think I'll head off to see if it's cleared up down there." Skittles got up, quickly grabbed his coffee and headed  to the door. He stopped himself short when he heard yelling and a commotion in the hallway. His ears twitched as he picked up on the angry voice outside of the "sound proof" room.

"Monster ... kill him!"

"No! He..."

There was a momentary shuffle before everything stopped. Skittles tilted his head to the side in confusion. He had barely heard any of the conversation, but he knew it was all about him and was that girl defending him. With a growl he opened the door to come face to face with a pale manager.

"You have to help me! I think I killed my waitress."

Skittles smacked his forehead. What man fights with a woman and brings her near death? A very stupid man. Skittles pushed the man to the side slowly and winced. A young woman was bleeding from the back of the head, apparently it was smashed against the back of a door knob. Skittles winced yet again, this was a bad day for him and it was starting to get far worse. 

"Can't you help her?"

"You moron, she's already dead," Skittles hissed, "But I can get rid of the evidence."

"You would do that? What's the catch?"

"Nothing much. I'll just kill you too." Before the man could react Skittles cast to quick fireballs. One cremating the man and the other one destroying the girl's corpse. He rubbed his hands together and cracked his fingers like he did every other time he fulfilled a "favor" of sorts. If the man had gotten away alive he would have pinned the murder on Skittles, and he didn't need to deal with another police force after him.

Not a single person would miss the manager. He was cruel and got what he deserved. 

A golden tail swished behind Skittles as he made his way down the steps. Was it really his place to judge others? Even if the gods said it was it felt wrong and lonely. He hummed a tune as he sat down at a bar bench.

A woman came up beside him unnoticed by everyone, and invisible to the normal eye. Those who have experienced near death are the only ones who could see her. She was the answer to Life. The Goddess of life put her hand on Skittles, and whispered into his ear, "If you do not finish your job soon the balance will turn to Chaos. Hurry, dear sweet Skittles, I don't want you to be in any danger." As quickly as she had appeared she disappeared. 

Skittles looked into the empty glass before him. He looked up to the bartender, "Have you every wished that you had died and someone else had lived?"

The bartender looked at him without fear or sarcasm, "Everyday, sir, everyday." 

"I'm happy that I'm not alone in the world," he looked at the bartender, "May I have another?"

"It's on the house." The bartender poured the bluish liquid into the cup with an amazing form of grace. "It's just a bothersome day today isn't it?"

"What a bother it is."