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Abaddon had to be quick.
He sprinted through the streets, the setting sun blazing orange and gold across the cement and into his eyes. His lungs burned.
People jumped out of his way, letting out yelps as he shoved passed. He didn’t have time for them. He just needed to get through and he had to get through fast. Abaddon refused to be late because someone decided to get in his way.
A few adults tried to talk to him in that condescending manner he despised. He ignored all of them and kept on running. He just didn’t have time.
Time was all he had at one point. He had gone through the creation of the universe multiple times and now he didn’t have time.
He wasn’t racing the setting sun but it felt like it.
Houses whizzed passed as he ran. None of them were right. He had never been this far from the hotel before but he'd know when he was in the right place. He could feel it like a tether, pulling him through the streets.
He'd know he reached his destination when he got there.
Abaddon rarely ever had issues with his vessel size but now, he cursed the short stature he was stuck with. Traveling far hadn’t been the issue, but his short legs made it take longer than he anticipated. Time was of the essence and he couldn’t be late.
A small group of kids were playing some game on the sidewalk ahead, their joyous laughter grating on his ears. He felt no remorse as he shoved passed them. He ignored their whines and childish curses as they called after him. He didn't want anything to do with them.
Besides, he didn't have time. Every second he wasted was a second he might be too late. He refused to be late.
A dark blue house appeared on the horizon and he felt pulled toward it. That's where he had to go.
He shoved against the ground harder, running faster than he ever had the need to. He took gulping breaths whenever he could, his lungs feeling like they could never have enough air.
Abaddon nearly slammed into the front door, skidding to a halt and stumbling up the front stairs. He tested the handle. Locked. He grumbled to himself as he looked around.
One of the windows was left propped open. Perfect. He scrambled toward it and forced it further open, climbing through a moment later.
He could hear voices and crying coming from deeper in the house. Taking a few steadying breaths, he made his way toward them.
Poking his head in, he saw a small group huddled around a bed. Tears were flowing freely from the adults, a few young children standing close to their parents in confusion. He wrapped his arms around himself and made his way forward.
“Who are you? How did you get in here?” An adult woman asked, her eyes welled up with tears.
Abaddon didn't answer.
He just shoved through the crowd and climbed up onto the bed.
“Get out!” Someone shouted.
“Esther,” Abaddon said, staring at the old woman wheezing against the pillows.
She stared back, her eyes squinting at him.
“Get him away from Grandma,” one of the small children said.
“Esther, I know you can hear me,” he continued on. “I know you remember me.”
Whispers sprung up and an adult put a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him away. He swatted their hand away. He had to get through to her.
He held his hand out, his pointer and pinkie fingers outstretched.
“I know you remember me,” he repeated.
Her eyes went from his face to his hand, a small smile forming.
She mirrored his hand gesture, her whole arm shaking with effort.
“Shemon,” She managed to wheeze out.
Abaddon smiled, “Demon.”
“Always be sc-” Esther broke out into a fit of coughs.
“Mom?” One of the adults asked. “How do you know this kid?”
“This,” Esther coughed out, “is Abaddon.”
“The Abaddon?”
“I thought he was a forgotten childhood friend.”
“I thought he was imaginary.”
“I didn't think he'd still be around.”
“Thank you,” Esther said. “For coming to see me.”
“You are my best friend. I wouldn't let you pass without seeing you. Nathan says hi, as well.”
“Took you a while to finally admit I was your best friend.”
“It has taken me a while to accept it myself.”
Esther smiled weakly before coughing again, her breath coming in short and quick. She wheezed as she settled against the pillows again. She didn't have long left, Abaddon could tell.
His chest felt tight and he could feel a pressure behind his eyes. He swiped at his face.
Esther was staring at the ceiling, blinking slowly. Abaddon counted five blinks before her breathing stopped, her eyelids dropping but not fully closing.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he reached forward, closing her eyes for her.
“Always be scheming,” he whispered. “May Heaven be kind to you.”
Abaddon stood from the bed and left the anguished wails of the others behind him. He sniffled. He had to return to the hotel. He wanted to hide somewhere familiar. Somewhere where his idea of normal could drown out the grief.
He climbed out through the window, leaving it open. His way back was slow, he was in no rush this time. He probably wouldn't be in a rush ever again, he realized.
He was going to miss her.