The Devil

You live in a apartment building. The building is in the top of the
hill that is covered with dead leave falling from the trees. It was located
in the part of the area that is isolated from the crowed city. You chose to
live here because it's the most affordable home you can find.

  The apartment is old and has only a few inhabitants. Most of them
live below third floor because there is no elevator. You live on the very
top of the building, the tenth floor. You don't like noises that people
made down stair. You like to play chess online, and you don't want
to be disturbed while playing.

  It's midnight, you close the laptop. You have to go out to work in daytime and comeback when the sun goes down, so you can only play chess at night. You are about to go to bed, but stopped when the papers on the desk fly to the floor. There is no wind outside and you have close the window already. You figure that you must have put the papers toward the edge of the table and it just slipped to the floor. You pick them up and go to bed without a second thought.

  You are very tired, but you can't ignore how cold you feel, even though you already have a very thick and warm quilt. Finally you can't stand it, so you get up and try to find the coats you have in the closet to put them on top of your quilt. Just when you found them, you heard a sound behind you, you turn
around, there is nothing. Then you hear it again, and see it too, it is the
table moving, by itself.

You drop the coats.

  You scream the loudest scream since you were born. You dart to the door to escape, but no matter how hard you try you can't open it. As if wanting to make it worse, the light went out. You have never been this scared in your whole life.

  ''WHAT EVER'S HERE, GET OUT NOW!", you shouts.
"No", said a deep vibrating voice in the dark.
You heartbeat pauses. The air around you feels like refrigerator.
"It's Halloween, and I thought ghost is welcomed to visit anyone's home during Halloween."
"WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO TO ME?"
"I've been wandering places for too long. I'm lonely. I want a friend. Can you be my friend?"
"Will you leave if I say yes?"
"In other to be my friend you have become a ghost too,", as the ghost
says that, your neck feel like ice and begin to tighten.
"What a, are, y, you-", you are suffocating.
"so I need to kill you. Don't worry it'll be fast..." says the ghost
as he choke your throat harder. You use your last bit of breath and squeeze out the words, "Th, there's a, better friend, for y, you."

  The force around your neck loosen a little.                                                                                                "What do you mean?", the ghost questions.
"Down, down stair, there is a beautiful and friendly woman. She was a former famous singer that likes ghost", you lie.
"You think I'm dumb? If she's a famous singer she wouldn't live in
this broken building."
"Her name is Scarlett. This building was inherited to her from her
parents, they died in a car accident, so she move here to collect the rents
after she retired from her career.", you inform.
The ghost relaxes his clutching on your throat. You breath heavily.
"Ok, show me where is she."

  You lead the ghost down to first floor.You knock on the former celebrity's room. The door opens, and a lady with gorgeous red hair, warm green eyes, and a kind expression appears.                                      "Hello my tenth floor friend.", Scarlett greets with friendly smile. You immediately feel guilty. You want to tell the ghost that he can't kill her, but Scarlett suddenly screams and grasp her throat. Her face was
rush with blood. The neighbors are coming to see what is going on.

  You are terrified. You dash to the exit of the apartment. You keep running, not turning back once, but no matter how far you run from the apartment you can never get rid of the demon.

The Devil - Take 2 (An edit with a much different ending)

I live in an apartment building – sitting forlornly atop a ragged hill covered with dead leaves. The leaves having recently fallen from the trees as the cool winds of autumn swept in. The trees seem lifeless without their leaves; their skeletal branches stark reminders that winter will soon be here.

The apartment is located very far from the main part of town, isolated from the life of the city. It is not that I particularly want to live here, far from town atop a lifeless hill. Necessity has forced me to live here. There is very little else that I can afford in this area. I don’t mind the isolation or loneliness, too much.

This apartment is old and outdated. Most of the residents left several years ago when newer buildings were constructed in town, which explains the cheap rent. The apartment is so old the elevator no longer works properly. This is why most of the people still living in the building live below the third floor. And most of them are elderly, much older than me.

I live on the very top floor, the tenth floor. I have it all to myself. It is quiet, secluded. I want it like that. I enjoy the solitude. I don’t mind walking up the stairs. It is worth it to get away from noisy and nosey neighbours. I like to play chess online and I just don't want annoying distractions disturbing me while I’m playing. The quiet helps me think, helps me concentrate.

One night it was getting late, approaching midnight, and it was time to close my laptop to get ready for bed. Tomorrow was to be another workday and the mornings always seemed to come sooner during the week. If I could, I would play chess all day, but bills needed to be paid so I had to go work during the day. I liked the night, after the sun would set; that was the only time I could play chess then – at least during the week.

Suddenly, some of my notes fly off of my desk scattering across the floor. It’s as if someone, or something, had knocked them off. But I was alone; there was no one else present. The window was closed tight and there was no breeze sweeping in from anywhere.

Picking up the papers from the floor I shrug off the entire incident. Somehow, I must have knocked them off of the edge of the desk. Strange though, I didn’t remember being all that close to the desk . . .

Finally, I was in bed and very, very tired. And yet, as tired as I was, I was also very cold – strangely so. The ancient furnace and radiators didn’t throw off much heat anymore, so the apartment was always chilly and damp. But somehow I just couldn’t shake this peculiar feeling that that night it was more than the cold apartment. There was coldness in the air that night that was more than just a lack of heat.

It was so cold. Although I was buried beneath the warm confines of my bedding and thick quilt, the cold had penetrated deep into my bones, to my very soul. And I couldn’t sleep like that. The icy air was relentless. I needed to get warm, somehow. Slipping out of bed, I stumbled towards the closet in search of a sweater and perhaps a woolen coat to lie upon the quilt.

Abruptly, from behind, I heard the scratching of what sounded like metal on the wooden floor. My heart skipped a beat as I spun around to confront this intruder and saw – nothing! All thought of sleep has vanished. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. But there was nothing there. Wait. There is something, the desk. The desk was moving, by itself. The desk was rising. Rising?

“Who’s there? What are you doing?” I screamed out in a panicked frenzy, realizing only after hearing my voice that I had done so. I needed to escape, needed to get out. But the door was stuck; it will not open. It mocks me as I pull and tug madly at the door knob. I am trapped in my icy cold apartment. Trapped with what?

And then the single source of light, the lamp on the night stand, dies. I’m trapped in the dark. I can’t think, I can’t breathe. “Get out!” As if my hysterical screaming will help. “Get Out! Get Out! Get out!”

“No.” A low guttural voice counters mockingly from somewhere in the dark.

“No, I think I will stay, well for a short time at the very least.” Again, in that same mocking, almost sinister tone – aloof, confident yet uncaring.

The chill in my bones was now born of fear. “Who are you? Why are you here? What do you want? Get out!”

The disembodied voice seemed to sigh, "I've been wandering many places for far too long. I'm lonely. I’m tired. I want a friend.”

“Are you kidding me? You want me to be your friend?” Stunned by the audacity of the proposition, “You scare me half to death and you claim to want to be my friend?”

The reply seemed to come from a voice much closer now and just a menacing, “Why yes. Will you be my friend?”

Without thinking I blurted, "Will you leave if I say yes?"

Ignoring my question, the voice continued with its terms of friendship, "In order to be my friend, of course, you have to pass from this life. I am here to ensure that happens.”

With the last of his words fading, I felt the glacial chill of death’s fingers wrapping themselves around my neck. I waved frantically, swinging wildly at the air, but there was nothing there to hit. There was no way to loosen his grip. I was dying.

“Do you play chess?” I gasped in desperation.

The grip seemed to loosen, ever so slightly. “Chess?”

“Yes, chess, you know, Kings Queens, Knights, pawns. Chess!”

“Now that is a game I have not played in a very long time. Ages, in fact.” The voice seemed more relaxed, as did its grip.

“Well, I play chess. I’m pretty good – not an expert, but good. I don’t want to die and I don’t want to be your friend if I have to die. How about a game of chess to see if I live and do not become your friend?

“I don’t see why I don’t just kill you anyway. Then you’ll be my friend and we’ll play chess forever.” The voice became menacing again and the grip tighten.

“No. If you kill me, I won’t be your friend and I won’t play chess with you – ever.”

In desperation I continued, “The only way I will play you, is for my life. If you win, well, I guess I’ll be your friend and you’ll always have a game. But, if I win you go away and never bother me again. Deal?

“It seems I have little choice. You should know that I was not a ‘good player’ I was a Master! I think we’ll be very good friends, you and I, very soon, for a very long time.” And with that the voice let out a demonic laugh and let go of my neck.

The lamp on the night stand flickered on and in the dim light I saw a slim dark figure with glowing deep set eyes sitting at the desk staring at a chess board. There, on the desk sat an ivory board on which elaborately carved chess pieces were prepared for battle.

The figure turned and grinned, “Your move. To show I’m a good sport, you may play White.”

And I have being playing chess ever since with my demonic friend. I am getting better.  

Thank you. I would guess from your picture that I have had an extra 50 years of writing and reading experience to draw upon. Keep up your writing.

hmmm, I like your original much better especially the ending. gotta love genuine, crude, and unrefined art,

(please take no offense Connors, you write like a pro and that's great too)

Well a railwayman lay dying with his people by his side
His family were crying, knelt in prayer before he died
But above his bed just a waiting for the dead
Was the Devil with a twinkle in his eye
Well God's not around and look what I've found, this one's mine . . .