Another Visitor
Jackson had of course adhered to the majority of the IPMA training he had received in his day to day behaviors, despite more recently reaching out to the public sector about his work in unapproved manners. He felt adaptation was not a sin, and after all, putting Peter Samuel on to that Joshua kid who’d seen Yeti had turned out beneficial, hadn’t it? And yet, he just couldn’t adapt to having a television in his own bedroom, opting instead to lay flat on his back and contemplate and to listen to any faerie folk noises he might hear than to have the mind-numbing flash of images and sound going while he slowly fell asleep.
It was in this condition, teeth brushed, lights out, that Agent Davidson first heard the rustling noises outside. At first he was wondering if Tword, his personal boogeyman that had been staying as close as possible to him whenever indoors since the Goblin Queen had given him the sight a couple Halloweens earlier. But imps he had since learned only dwelt indoors.
He decided to rise, his shoes off but clothes still on as he often slept these days, and stood to open the curtains at his window. The moon was lighting the edges of them already as it was a full night, perfect for the coming Halloween activities in twelve to sixteen hours.
Behind him the closet door squeeked open a bit, just as it had when he was a kid. But knowing what it was as an adult with vision helped him to continue on without turning around. Tword’s long shiny-wet fingers grasped the edge of the folding closet door and helped guide him slowly out of his hiding space. He moved slowly, just as Imps do who were trying to scare the children to whom they’d become attached, scaring and weakening their will to be accepting of their suggestions, usually to do something wicked. It was all in jest according to Tword, but Davidson likened it to torturing children whenever they spoke of it.
Tword sat upon the end of the bed, red eyes glimmering at Jackson’s back.
“So you have another visitor this evening. Eh, Jackson?” the shadowy figure hissed menacingly, gesturing with his hands casually. The gesture, had Jackson been looking didn’t seem friendly when the long curling fingers with pointed nails unfolded. But Tword was taking advantage of their assumed truce and still working on a friendship.
“What are you talking about?” Jackson said, placing his hands on his hips and staring out the window.
He refused to turn around and actually address his Imp. Jackson hated Tword. He’d wish he’d never wanted to find out what it was that haunted him in his youth. He wouldn’t have sought out the Goblin Queen, been nearly eaten, three times, nor given sight as punishment for his intrusion into the Queen’s domain. And yet, she had given him a kiss that night and there was something peculiar about her that made him constantly think of her. Whenever Tword wasn’t interrupting his thoughts or he wasn’t out on assignment for the IPMA.
“Can’t you smell them?” Tword hissed his loathsome voice and grinned. “Goblins. Outside. One of them female. Foul-smelling wretches they are.”
Jackson turned around quickly then, his eyes ablaze at the possibility, but then quickly subdued. “And you would be one to recognize foul smelling creatures. I swear you take a bath in sulfur just to irritate me.”
Tword nodded vigorously and smirked again. “Well…yes. Of course I do. That’s what Imps do, isn’t it?”
As the agent picked up a robe from the back of a chair in front of his desk and headed out of the bedroom, the little Imp opted to stay behind. But he called out to the human one last time, in a sort of taunt.
“Only the queen is a female, ain’t she?”
Jackson ignored the Imp’s hissing laughter behind him, but left the lights turned out. If indeed the Goblin Queen, or any of her entourage had dared to seek him out in his own home, he was not going to be caught unawares. He wanted any advantage to be on his side this time. Being trapped in her own territory was one too many mistakes Jackson had made and he wasn’t going to allow another, ever. Not with her.