Across the tranquil night, the girl walks along the stone path through the desert plain. She comes to a fork in the road. One path leads further into the desert; the other leads to massive mountains reaching into the sky. The sign--made of iron and clay in shape of a deformed skeleton--was her only guide. The arrow pointed to the mountains. As she took one step, the sign snapped to life. Cracking its back as it laid backwards. It turned towards her.
"Hello," She said, "are you a demon?"
"No," it said in a soft waspy voice.
"If you have any holy water you can throw it and find out," he suggested.
The ministry has always advised travelers to keep some vials of holy water on them at all times: in case of demon encounters like this. The girl pulled a small vial out of her bag and threw it at the sign's face.
The vial smashed against his clay face: he didn't even flinch. The water made the clay soft and mushy.
"Hmmmmmm, yes," it said as it rubbed the water around his face. "Holy water is good for the pores you know."
"So are you're not a demon?"
"A soul trapped in that body."
"A puppet controlled by some one or thing?"
"Just a sign," it confirmed.
"Ok so did a demon make you?"
"No... well, on the questions of ethics you could consider him a demon. I suppose."
The sign pointed towards the path leading to the desert. "The mountains is filled with demons who are hungry for flesh. The other past leads you to the city."
"Thanks," the girl began to walk down the path, but stopped. She had one more question to ask. She turned to the sign and looked straight into its hollow eyes.l and asked, "Can I trust you?"
The sign paused for a few seconds and said, "No."