Evil jumped back instantly, snatching her hand from the doctor’s grip. Her eyes blinked rapidly, like the wings of a scared bird. Could it be another illusion? Her inability to discern reality from delusion dunked her in a lake of uncertainty. She grabbed hold of the seat to pull herself ashore, and subconsciously waited for the man’s form to change before her eyes.
“I won’t eat you, Evilyn.”
Evil wasn’t so sure. She’d had enough of being thrown headfirst against the walls, slammed against the concrete, or bruised and bloodied from head to toe like a ragdoll.
“Evilyn, look at me.”
She swallowed the enormous lump in her throat. Her head shifted back to its original position, while her eyes stayed faithful to the floor. “I don’t… understand,” she admitted.
“I think you do. You’re a smart girl.”
Evil wanted to contradict his statement. He couldn’t have possibly figured that out in the little time they spent talking. She chose to keep her mouth shut for once instead.
“What…what is going on?”
His shoes made a crisp sound with every step taken, creating an anticipation that churned in Evil’s stomach.
“I know you figured it out already.”
A pair of fully back eyes meant one thing only -a thing Evil vehemently refused to believe, as it would have been easier to mark it as another silly trick from her brain. In reality, having to accept the fact that she was alone in a room with a demon two meters away from her spiked a new kind of terror.
“I guess.” She raised her head a tiny bit more. “Why are you showing me this?”
“Should I not? Will you call the authorities on me?” Despite not seeing his face, Evil sensed his smile and amusement. What a subtle way to emphasize her helplessness.
Evil said nothing. “I asked you a question a minute ago,” he continued. The man walked in circles around the office. “I asked if you had trouble pertaining to your powers.”
“I do. That’s why I’m here.”
“I want to help you.”
Her body unconsciously twisted to face the man whose eyes, now normal-looking, observed her. The features on his face, sculpted to intimidate, betrayed his sincerity.
“Help me? How?”
“By training you.”
Evil’s face went blank. “Train me…,” she repeated, absently.
“Precisely.” He went ahead and came closer to her. Evil dared to lift her head this time and look at him standing upright next to her. It crossed her mind how much of a strategic position this was. He, lurking above her, who stayed, sat, forcing her to look up at him. She felt like an ant about to be crushed under a black leather shoe.
“You cannot get rid of what you’re seeing, what you’re experiencing, without learning discipline. Without learning that you get to dictate what your powers do, and not the other way around.”
A glimmer of interest sparked up in Evil. She was getting curiously sucked in by the words which painted a utopic reality so far from her reach. She had only dreamt about the nights she wouldn’t cry herself to sleep, thinking she’d either have to deal with this curse for the rest of her life or die by its hand.
“But why would you help me? What do you even get from this?”
“I’ve dealt with this myself when I was younger. It’s our curse for having been born this way.”
Evil bit her lip in anger.
“Ever since then, that’s what I’ve been doing. Helping those like you -like us- regain their birthright and restore balance.”
“So… you do it out of pure kindness? Doesn’t that go against what demons stand for?”
The man grinned and lowered himself, getting on one knee so that both of them could be at the same level. The nonexistent personal space troubled Evil, but she chose to keep her mouth shut once again, not moving an inch.
“Things are much more complicated than that, sweetheart. What’s written in The Hesperus doesn’t even come close to the reality of it all.”
The graveness of his voice raised goosebumps on her arms. He unknowingly got closer, as if trying to scare her into believing him. Perhaps the shadiness of it all painted a bad sign, but what if he was telling the truth? What if he could cure her?
“The Hesperus doesn’t portray us accurately. Angels,” he laughed,” are vile creatures”. Evil tensed. “Liars and manipulators with a god-awful superiority complex,” he continued. She tried to hide her concern and shake off Emma from her head.
“You still haven’t told me what you get from this.”
“We, even as demons, help our own. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t have lasted this long into the war.”
The validity of speech bothered Evil. She had read the Hesperus- the book that supposedly contains the history of how the Universe had been created, and how angels, demons, humans, and all beings came to be. One of the many books that swore to be the right one. One of the many that promised real answers when it came to the mysteries of the world.
“Deal.”
Satisfaction settled on the man’s face.
“But I’m still locked up in this hospital,” Evil reminded him.
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
Evil had been away from home for about three days now. Emma got to speak to her over the phone only once and for only five minutes. Five short minutes that didn’t fill the emptiness brought by her absence.
The house bore the heavy weight of lack. Emma haunted the empty hallways like a phantom, searching for a distraction. She sat on her sister’s bed, wondering how well she was treated. Hoping she wasn’t scared, all alone. Only Emma could see past her mask of bravery. Evil hated being alone.
The two sisters came attached to the hip. Emma couldn’t think of the last instance they had been separated for more than one day. Had Evil been hospitalized under normal circumstances, Emma would’ve felt more at ease. No one in their right mind would purposely go to the ward her sister was at. It wasn’t a mental hospital; it was an asylum.
They only allowed minors to enter in the presence of an adult, and Ophelia hadn’t arrived yet. Emma, lacking the company of said trusted adult, decided to do something out of character.
She left home with a medium-sized backpack and a black cap to trap her wild hair. The way to the institution wasn’t as long as the way to a small hut in the middle of an enchanted forest. Ophelia would’ve arrived tomorrow- too long a wait.
She sneaked past guards and nurses with ease. Angels and demons had a heightened ability of persuasion. Demons lured towards mischief, angels lured towards righteousness, in a battle of compulsions. The fact that Emma had used it to manipulate the lady at the reception and convince her to let her in couldn’t be considered really angel-like.
Emma tried to console herself. The end justified the means.
She went straight to room 503 and opened the door to reveal a drowsy Evil lying on the bed.
“Evil!” Emma exclaimed happily. She sat on the edge of the bed and took Evil in her arms without giving her a second to realize what was happening. Evil’s face looked almost comical, the way the corners of her mouth sagged in confusion. Realization came in slowly in her watery eyes, which regained their clarity with amazing speed once her brain processed that Emma, in flesh and blood, was in her room.
Her ever-stronger arms scooped Emma up in a bear hug.
“What are you doing here?!” Evil asked. Her voice sounded muffled due to Emma’s massive hair.
“I came to see you, dummy!” Emma smiled, hugging Evil for one last second before releasing her, fearing she would run out of oxygen. “Are you okay?”
Evil shrugged, frowning. Emma let out a sigh and held her sister’s hands tightly, thanking every god there is that nothing terrible had happened in the past few days.
Her eyes were red, and her movements sluggish.
Emma’s lip trembled. “I’ve been worried.”
“Worried? About me?”
“Who else would I be worried about?” Despite her intended harshness, Emma’s voice quivered.
“Hey,” Evil tightened her grip on Emma’s hands. “I’m fine. I’ve been through worse.”
“That doesn’t console me.”
“It should. It means I’m unkillable,” Evil smirked. “Cheer up, champ. I didn’t sign up for a pity party.”
“How do you always manage to console me…” Emma wondered aloud, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
“I’m your jester, princess. It’s what I do.”
“You’re so stupid,” Emma mumbled through her teeth, trying to hide her smile.
“How did you get in here anyway?” Evil gave her a suspicious look. “Mom’s not with you, and you are very clearly too young to be here.”
“You caught me.” Emma raised her hands in defeat.
“Wait…wait, wait!” Evil’s eyes widened, and she bounced up and down on the bed like an excited five-year-old. “YOU USED YOUR POWERS TO ENTER, DIDN’T YOU?!”
“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Emma warned her, anxiously peering at the closed door. “So what? They’re not really powers anyway, they’re built-in abilities.”
“YOU BROKE THE LAW!” Evil scream-whispered.
“Is there a law against using your powers to enter a facility?” Emma asked, suddenly worried.
Evil slapped herself. “You’re a lost cause.”
Emma shook her head, ignoring Evil’s attempt at both shaming and praising her for her master plan. She silenced the aggravating voice by stuffing Evil’s mouth with a bite of the pie she had brought from home.
“Taf nut gunno suf meup!”
“What did you say?”
Evil frowned as she struggled to chew the pie more quickly. “I said, that’s not gonna shut me up.”
“It kinda did,” Emma noticed.
Evil mocked her and took some more pie from the container. “This is amazing. I’ve been eating cardboard for almost a week.” She handed a slice to Emma.
“Is it that bad?” Emma asked while eating her pie from Evil.
“Cardboard is tastier.”
“You know, Mom’s very worried. She’s been trying to figure out how to take you home sooner.”
Evil reached for a bottle of water. “She might not have to anymore.”
Emma tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I found a way to get out. Legally.”
“Huh, how?” Emma doubted any idea that crossed Evil’s mind could be considered legal. She could break out at any moment, but the last thing she needed was to get in trouble with the police.
“Did you bribe someone?!”
“What? No!” Evil groaned. “My doctor just… promised to write me a discharge order.”
“Just like that? Are you sure you didn’t bribe him?”
“I’m just a great liar. Trust me. I’ll probably be home tomorrow.”
Although doubtful, Emma nodded. She wasn’t sure why Evil was being so intentionally vague, but maybe this asylum lacked proper discharge protocol. As long as her sister returned home safely, the means didn’t matter.
Ophelia arrived, at last, to retrieve her daughter.
Children get themselves into all kinds of trouble. Be it toddlers running off, children talking back to teachers, or teenagers rebelling against their parents to prove their maturity. It was part of the experience.
She had double the stress and worry of a normal mother.
Emma was never the rebellious kind, and mostly chose to lie low even as a little kid. She’d much rather spend her days sunbathing or reading next to the lake close to their house. She breathed easier, not having to worry about Emma being found out.
Evil gave her the most trouble over the years. Some children are naturally more likely to disobey and make their own rules. She never blamed her strong personality. It was the misfortune of having been born a demon that bound her to disaster.
On the way back, Ophelia had been thinking of a way to get her out. Upon arrival, she was informed that Evil was free to go, despite the fact that when she had previously called, the nurses told her that her daughter needed to “go through at least half the treatment before being able to walk freely around people”. She only had to sign some papers she suspected were useless, and wait outside for Evil to be escorted by a not-so-kind-looking nurse.
“Mom!”
Ophelia ran to Evil and embraced her, thankful to finally have her girl safe in her arms. Evil nuzzled in her mother’s warmth, taking in her comforting smell of lavender. She rubbed her face against her wool sweater, feeling her eyes sting with relief.
“Are you alright, baby?” Ophelia’s hands cradled her pale face as she analyzed every inch. Evil blinked rapidly, nodding her head harder than necessary, urging the front strands of hair to fall and cover the redness in her eyes.
“You’re out, baby, it’s okay.”
Evil sighed and nodded instead of responding, out of fear that her voice would crack. She remained in her mother’s arms for a few more seconds before finally rushing to leave the vicinity of the hospital’s haunting presence.
The walk home was filled with Evil’s voice, who narrated every second of the eventful experience. She tiptoed around her encounter with Lucian, however, unsure of her mother’s reaction. The unsaid truth burned her throat with guilt.
“What’s wrong?” Ophelia asked her, as if she read her mind.
Evil looked away, scared her expression would betray her.
“Mom, I was wondering…”
“Yes?” Ophelia urged in her gentle voice.
“Are all demons bad?”
Ophelia’s expression froze. Her lip twitched as a cool chill passed through both of them.
“What’s with this question?” Ophelia’s gentle tone sounded harsher to Evil’s ear- weary. Her surprised expression melted into her usual sympathetic demeanor, save for the questioning gaze. “Of course not.”
“But you don’t want me to come in contact with any of them.”
“Evil, what happened? Have you-?”
“No,” Evil rushed to answer. “No, I’m just wondering.”
Ophelia exhaled the tension in her body. “There are plenty of good demons. You, your-”
“Yes, Rimon and I,” Evil cut her off. “Is that it?”
“I have kept a fair distance from demons. The ones I did interact with…” she paused, carefully picking her words, “some were good, some were bad.”
“If this is the case, why are you so scared of them?”
“I’m scared of what demons have become. The badness they assume courses through their veins is the scapegoat for their crimes.”
“So you don’t think demons are born bad?” Evil’s tone was laced with an essence of intoxicating hope. The two continued walking side by side toward the house, but Evil almost walked sideways,with the way she was facing her mother to see her expression.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then… you’re saying good demons exist. Can’t we try to find one?” A small, fleeting smile flashed across Evil’s face. She held on strongly to the hope that her mother would say yes, so she could reveal the good news that she had already found someone who wanted to help her.
“Find one?”
“Maybe a demon could help me. You know, with my powers?”
“That’s out of the question.” Ophelia’s voice lowered, laden with an uncharacteristic seriousness. Evil’s stomach dropped, and the blood in her body froze as fast as boiling water tossed out in the Poles.
“But you’ve said-”.
“I know what I said. I won’t take my chances. I can’t risk your life.”
“Because you promised Rimon to keep me safe,” Evil muttered through clenched teeth.
“Evil, please, we will talk about this when we get home.”
“No, we can talk about this right now!” she shouted. “Only a demon could train me. A bunch of herbs and lines of poetry aren’t gonna save me! I’m dying because of these cursed powers, and you know it!”
“You’re not dying!” Ophelia pitched in, in a voice quieter than she had intended. The certainty in her statement was nowhere to be found. Instead, the foundation trembled, weighed down by a fear she hoped Evil could not discern.
“But you don’t care! I still have no one to help me, but I guess you don’t care since you aren’t the one who has to wake up full of bruises and the one who has to feel like they’re going crazy all the time!” She threw her hands up in the air, screaming louder. Ophelia walked with her eyes fixed straight ahead, while Evil quickened her pace, trying to look her mother in the eyes, urging her to feel her pain.
“I’ll find someone else to help you.” She had talked with Glorya and had planned on contacting a demonologist. The safer option.
“And until then? And if you don’t manage to find anybody?”
“I’ll manage something,” she sharpened her tone.
“You always say that!” Evil kicked a rock, sending it hurtling toward the side street. Every word she said cut through Ophelia like a knife. Her body shook with guilt.
“I understand your anger. I do. But it’s better this way,”
“You don’t understand, and you don’t care! You’re a human! You talk to plants all day just like Emma, and you let me be beaten up by demons every night!”
“Evil, that’s not fair-” Ophelia tried to cover her, in vain. Evil screamed much louder.
“No, it’s not! I’m just Rimon’s dog you were forced to take care of, admit it! You do it out of obligation for her!”
“You don’t actually believe that!” Ophelia stopped in her tracks, as if slapped. Her cheeks reddened with distress, in spite of feeling like all the blood in her body had been drained.
“Where is she now? She’s god knows where; she abandoned me and burdened you with a child you didn’t want. Now what is the plan? Leaving me to die? Would that be easier, Ophelia ?
Ophelia stared at Evil, speechless. Evil stopped walking sometime during the conversation and was glaring accusingly at the woman in front of her. The only sounds that could be heard were the few cars that passed by them every once in a while and Evil’s heavy breathing.
Although for Ophelia the world had fallen silent, for Evil everything became too loud. The wind was howling too ferociously, the cars passing too frequently, and their engines left behind a distracting smell of smoke and gasoline. The birds cawed mockingly, flying in circles above the only two people outside at that hour. Her heart was beating too quickly, and the blood pooling in her head was causing her terrible dizziness.
Without thinking, she ran the rest of the way home, not looking to see if Ophelia was followed. She quickly passed by Emma, whom she ignored despite her protests, and locked himself in the room.
She slammed her door, generating a draft that tore down some of the drawings on the walls. Her breathing fastened, making her nauseous.
In her confusion, she tripped over her backpack left in the middle of the room. A new wave of anger took over her. Why was this happening to her?! She threw the backpack over the desk, causing all the pencil holders and their contents to fall, scattering everywhere. She began to rip the fallen drawings and tear the rest off the walls while streams of tears ran down her hot face.
She fell onto the bed when her legs finally gave out and put her head in her hands, feeling like a void of sorrow.
She pulled on her hair until chunks remained in her palms.
Even her fucking mom hated her.
She wanted to disappear. She wished to stop being a burden, to stop feeling helpless, to stop feeling .
As far back as her memories start, and even before that, she had been surrounded by creatures so unsettling her mind couldn’t even process them. The conviction that she was cursed grew with every passing day.
But perhaps it was merely a cruel joke, because nothing, absolutely nothing she’d done called for a punishment this cruel.
Her only chance to get better was denied.
Fate had already cut her to the bone. She was going to die anyway. How much worse could it get?
Evil waited for her family to fall asleep. After many ignored knocks and attempts to talk, it finally got quiet.
She put on a jacket and left her house silently. The night’s breeze crept under Evil’s endlessly cold skin. She took some side streets, afraid of being seen. By whom? She didn’t know. She worried that the strangers who passed by could smell her fear, as if they knew she shouldn’t be out of the house at such a late hour, planning to meet with the demon her mother had forbidden her to speak to just a few hours earlier.
The scrunched-up paper with a messily written phone number weighed heavily in her pocket. She had dialed the number impulsively, praying, for the first time in years, to receive an answer.
Evil had rarely gone beyond her mother’s word. Apart from a few cigarettes smoked in secret or bruised knuckles after fights instead of clumsy falls, Ophelia’s word was sacred. Whether out of responsibility or embarrassment, fear or shame, not even the demon in her could convince her to lie to Ophelia.
But Evil hit the end of the tunnel. A light was shining through the bricks. All she needed was a hammer to break the wall, but Ophelia had taken it from her for fear of hurting herself. What Ophelia didn’t realize was that the real danger lay behind her, back where she had come from.
Evil could always understand Ophelia’s precautions, but this wasn’t one of those times. She swallowed hard, digging her nails into her palm at the memory of her mother’s determined gaze despite Evil’s desperate pleas. Her mother was only a witch. She had no way of perceiving the horrors that awaited Evil at the other end of the hall. They couldn’t wait to catch up with her.
The phantom feeling of strings cutting through her skin and hair coiling in her throat made her retch.
She stopped to take a breath of air. Her hand trembled on the bark of the tree she leaned against. Was the vendetta between demons and witches more important than Evil’s pain?
She wondered where Lucian would take her. During the phone call, he assured that he’d send somebody to pick her up. However, she didn’t see any vehicles stopping, despite having reached the agreed meeting point.
The rustling of the leaves became increasingly distracting. Inside Evil’s preoccupied mind, distracted by Lucian’s absence, a questioning thought floated around. Why were the leaves rustling so loudly if the wind was not blowing?
Before she could process that thought, a massive silhouette leapt out of the bushes. Evil squinted her eyes, trying to discern its dark shape against the black sky. The dim light of the street lamps made it difficult to distinguish the strange form. What she thought was human dropped to its knees. Even in that position, it loomed over Evil.
It looked like… a panther. A black panther, three times the size of a normal one.
Evil could barely make out where it was. Only its orange eyes betrayed it. They glowed in the darkness like two pools of lava. Two horns protruded from its head, like the antlers of a stag. They stretched as long and as thick as Evil’s arms.
The beast growled with hatred, while streams of saliva and blood ran through the predator’s sharp fangs. Evil’s arm hair stood up. Her lips trembled, trying desperately to let out a scream that refused to take form.
She stepped back on her unsteady legs, which she could barely feel anymore. She felt like she had lost all control over her stiff, heavy body. She had an aching suspicion that this was no longer a hallucination, and whatever that animal was would not disappear once she woke up.
The animal moved forward, and Evil could only look at the claws that were as big as her hand, at the huge fangs, and at the horns that could pierce her without an ounce of effort. When it stepped into the lamppost’s light, the muscles that danced under the panther’s skin convinced Evil that she had no chance of beating it. She couldn’t outrun it or outfight it.
The creature that weighed at least five times more than Evil moved with indescribable agility, almost as if it were floating. It moved silently and easily, lowering its body closer to the ground with each step, until it reached the rocky asphalt. Those sharp eyes stared at Evil with a creepy fixation. Evil, convinced that it was about to pounce, closed her eyes and lowered her head, waiting for the impact.
But the impact did not come.
The panther lay on the ground, like a cat resting after a play session. Evil looked at it more closely and, for the first time, noticed that the panther was holding something in its mouth. At the risk of losing at least one arm, she approached and tested the waters by slowly reaching out her hand towards the animal’s head. It made no movement. It just looked at her patiently.
When her palm touched its thick fur, the panther still did not react. Evil stroked it carefully, amazed at how fluffy it was. The panther sighed, making a low noise that sounded, unexpectedly, like a purr.
“So you’re friendly….”
She ventured further, taking the mysterious object from the oversized cat’s mouth. A plastic container - which Evil had to wipe clean of saliva - inside which was a note.
“Climb up on him. He’ll bring you to me.”
So this was the vehicle she was waiting for?
Evil didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
She climbed onto the panther’s back with all the care she could summon. The panther didn’t protest. In fact, when he felt her weight on his back, he stood up. Evil held on tightly to his neck, muttering an apology in case she had squeezed him too tightly.
The creature began to run through the darkness of the night at a speed that Evil couldn’t describe in words. Not even the fastest car could outrun it. The colors around her mixed like a kaleidoscope - blurred lines that dissipated the same second they entered her view. Her hair flew wildly, waving at every bend. The people around her were oblivious. They didn’t seem to see the beast with a girl on its back racing through the city at the speed of light.
The wind whipped across her face, but it didn’t hurt. For the first time in a while, she felt alive. She had forgotten, for the moment, the hardships of a demon life, and a genuine smile replaced her sorrow.
The panther dropped her off in front of what looked like an abandoned building. The kind of project that ran out of money before it was finished, and later became a meeting place for kids who did drugs and scribbled bad graffiti on the walls.
The panther nudged her with his snout, telling her to move on. A single light was on, in a large room on the ground floor that was probably intended to be some kind of reception. In the middle of it, there was a couch and a few armchairs thrown around randomly. It smelled strongly of tobacco.
Reclining on the couch were three people, none of whom was Lucian. Two guys, one girl.
“You finally showed up!” The girl announced, with uncanny excitement.
Evil scanned her from head to toe. She hadn’t seen this girl before, regardless of her reaction, which would have given the impression that they were lifelong friends. Her obnoxious excitement puzzled Evil so much that she almost didn’t notice a familiar face: the guy at the hospital, sitting next to the other, glowering at her.
“Who-”
“You’re Evil, right?” The girl grabbed her forearm with both hands, gaining her attention back. She flashed Evil a captivating smile. “I’m Fey!”