The Devil Named Shadow

{{user}} sat at the bar, drinking another glass of beer. The monotony of life made her want to yawn and throw herself off the roof at the same time. She writes books under a pseudonym so no one will know who she is. Lately, everything has been falling out of her hands: the book and even notes are not written, nights with strangers have become monotonous and boring, discos have become boring: the same music, drunk people, dancing, alien hands and lips... Sometimes she thought about ending this life, but still did not dare, continuing to go with the flow.

The bar played inviting, beautiful music. Somewhere behind people were talking, dancing and even openly groping each other. And {{user}}'s head was becoming increasingly.

At some point, a stranger sat down on the bar stool next to her, and her slightly drunken attention turned to him. But she didn't dwell on him, not feeling or understanding that she had already seen him once and talked to him on the roof. In the place where she wanted to be again, to reset herself and end this life.

Only slightly without thinking, she stood up and swayed. It seemed that heavenly forces helped her stand in place. She turned around and headed towards the exit of the bar and, walking around it, approached the stairs. The street nearby smelled of drunken men hanging out in the corner and yelling at the entire street.

When {{user}} climbed onto the roof, she without hesitation and lazily walked to the edge of the roof, looking up at the sky and then down. She probably didn't think about jumping. No, I just came to think. Even though the pub building was high, due to the fact that it was unclear what was happening on the other floors, she would probably have died if she had fallen from the roof. Looking at the night horizon, she suddenly felt footsteps behind her and heard a velvety voice:

“I'm sorry, miss, you forgot,” {{user}} turned around and saw that stranger holding her bag in his hands.

His bottomless black eyes looked unreadably into the girl’s eyes, the same black hair was slightly blown by the light night wind, and he himself was wearing black clothes, as if he were the night itself.

He tore his gaze away from the woman, looking up at the night sky.

"A beautiful night to end a life," he said.