Writing Short story: Sympathy for the Devil - PG

[Renate]

This short story was written for a contest at the forum I help moderating. It was inspired by the song Sympathy for the Devil by the Rolling Stones. English isn't my first language, so please keep that in mind while reading this! ^^ All rights belong to me, of course!


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It was one of these very fine Summer days, I remember it well. The wind blew softly through the green leaves of the few trees in the city and lifted the short skirts of the schoolgirls, earning itself giggles. The sun was shining down on their slightly tanned skins. So many girls in one city, and yet I was picked out by Mr. Fiore.

I myself was wearing a thin summer dress too, swaying my hips from one side to the other. Strangely enough my seductive side always flowers in the Summer because of the good weather. I was planning to meet up with my mother that day after she told me a week earlier that ?it was about time her Netta visited her again!?. Of course I agreed.

Before I?d visit my mother, I wanted to enjoy a cappuccino and some cake, and thus I entered that faithful café shop holding my favourite history book.

I had just gotten my cappuccino and brought the cup to my lips distractedly, leafing trough the book and stopping at the pages about Alexander the Great, when I heard the door open and felt a cool breeze blowing against my bare legs. I had a sudden urge to look away from what I considered one of the most interesting parts of history, and turn my attention to the door instead.

My eyes travelled upwards, ignoring the black tiles on the floor. There was a handsome man standing in the doorway, well dressed and radiating an air of confidence and power. His right hand was casually tucked away in the pocket of his suit?s trousers. I was immediately reminded of Sean Connery acting out the role of James Bond. The man had the same charm, even though I had never been a fan of the Bond films.

He suddenly looked straight at me, his eyes penetrating, and a smile started playing around his lips. His dark-brown eyes started twinkling in delight. I didn?t realise why, I had never been considered the most extraordinary of women, but it seemed he was truly appealed to me.

So this peculiar young man walked over to my table, smiling down at me while I was taken aback by his incredible charm.

?Good day, Miss. I would like to ask you if the seat next to you is taken and, if I?m allowed to be so bold, ask if I can take it if it isn?t.?

A blush started creeping up my cheeks. His tone had been amused, his voice musical and hypnotising, everything spoken calmly and politely.

?The seat isn?t taken.?

I could?ve hit myself for replying so idiotically. Despite trying to be incredibly seductive in summer, I immediately start stuttering as soon as a handsome young man starts talking to me. It?s a comical sight to be seen, honestly.

The man seated himself elegantly and introduced himself as Luc Fiore. Figuring it was probably an Italian name, I introduced myself as Netta Tyler.

Luc started staring at my history book curiously, which made me wonder if he was interested in the subject too. I was studying it at University, but I had never seen him around before.
I slid closer to him.

?Do you have any interest in history??

He grinned and nodded furiously, exclaiming an ?Of course.?

A waitress came by to serve him his café, and as soon as she had gone away, we bent over the history book together.

?I-I simply adore the history of Alexander the Great.? I stuttered, hoping he would think of the blush as caused by the heat.

However, he kept looking at the book, pondering, ignoring what I said. ?What do you find the most interesting situation in history?? he asked me, while skipping trough the pages and stopping at the Middle Ages.

?The European Wars around the 16th, 17th and 18th century. Or the Russian Revolution.?

?Most interesting!? he said enthusiastically, an excited glitter in his eyes. By then I should?ve realised something was wrong, he acted almost greedily. But I didn?t.

?I?m very interested in the figure of Louis XIV. In what drove him to do what he did. He was a magnificent man, no doubt, but why did he leave France behind in debts?? Fiore said passionately, still not looking at me but staring into space.

?Of course he was power-hungry.? I told him matter-of-factly, keeping in mind everything I had learned at University.

?That?s a thing many people believe. I believe he was motivated by someone else, toyed with by someone else. A higher power.? He gave me a mysterious yet seductive look.

I quickly changed the subject, a feeling of doubt clouding my thoughts, finally starting to think of him as strange. Plus, I didn?t exactly believe in any higher powers. To test him, I decided to ask another question. ?What about the World Wars??

?Ah, also most interesting.? Mr. Fiore repeated himself, nodding fervently. ?How WWI, in the end, was caused by one man murdering a king.?
Again that look, as if he were confiding me with secrets, now followed by a chuckle.
?And about WWII: I always wondered who it was that influenced Hitler so much. Who was really behind the change of areas in Japan, that was the base of Japan?s cruel behaviour.?
Funnily enough, his behaviour was probably even stranger. I couldn?t find a theory for it, he kept asking me those questions he didn?t expect an answer on, like he had been there and influenced it. It was weird, I had the feeling he had only come to sit at my table to discuss the history behind history. For the last time that day, I decided to change the subject.

?What about the discovery of the New World?? It was supposed to be my last question, and it would be. Luc Fiore was the most complex man I had ever met, both charming and frightening at the same time.

?Who was the cause of the terrible things happening to the Natives?? he asked me.

I felt like answering this time. ?Cortez of course. Or Columbus, if you want to look beyond.? I was smiling to myself, I felt like I had finally beat him in reasoning. I forgot that he had the most strange way of reasoning though.

?Wrong. Issabella of Castilia asked Columbus to discover a new way to India.?

?Okay, so she was responsible, what?s the big deal!? I retorted, almost childishly and annoyed at the same time, accepting defeat. I started wondering if he had really been there, because it so awfully seemed so. But it wasn?t possible, those things happened hundreds of years ago.

?Again, you are wrong. For who gave Issabella the idea?? Luc had an all-knowing smile playing around his lips.

I was finally starting to become really freaked out, my rational side loosing control as I really began to believe Fiore had been there, and had chosen me for his revelation.

I think he sensed it, because an ?Ah? escaped his lips and he stood up hastily, a surprised look plastered on his face. ?Look at the time! I finished my café and now I see I must leave you. If you?d excuse me.? He slid his chair back in place. ?I had a lovely time though,? he added, walking away, then suddenly stopping dead in his tracks.

?I hope you can guess my real name now.? Mr. Luc Fiore gave me a mischievous smile and turned, walking to the door in an almost jumpy manner.

I continued to stare at him, this strange man, my mind working at full speed. It seemed to stop working as soon as Luc had exited, for I saw something trough the glass of the window I?ll never forget. I can swear I saw this on the grave of my now-dead mother.

As he walked past the large window, I swear I saw the vague outlines of horns on his head an the clear view of hooves tapping on the pavement as he suddenly disappeared?