Gourmet Deviled Egg

Chapter 13 - He comes from a land down under

I sat up in bed, groaning annoyedly, letting out a frustrated sigh, before at last facepalming and rubbing my face down. “I don’t want to sandpaper my c**t down from continued m**********n to avoid these shitty nightmares.” I pulled the blanket off and got up to stretch. The latest one had started off with me hanging out with some girls from high school, being treated as one of them, before I passed a mirror and my reflection jumped out of it, tearing me out of the clothes I was wearing and making me stare at Peter’s n***d body. I couldn’t even bring myself to call it my n***d body by now. 

Partially because of how much time I was spending as Lily, but also because I felt detached from that body. It felt like putting on a costume whenever I shifted back to interact with Clark and Olivia at The Question. An ill-fitting costume made out of a very itchy material. I entered the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. My face. The face of a cute succubus. It shouldn’t feel this right, to look like Mom when she was my age, was what I thought. But it did. Even the hint of circles under my eyes from restless sleep wasn’t ruining the cute look. I checked the clock, 5 am. The time when the Matrix is still loading in, and reality doesn’t quite exist. 

Maybe I’d see Bigfoot strolling down the street to get his morning cup of joe if I looked outside now. What I really needed, though, was to get back the energy I didn’t build by sleeping. “At this rate I oughta get a wand… Hell, I’ll have to specify a Hitachi Wand if Leo points me to the stores he frequents. Scratch that, he’d point me to those ones first.” I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge, downing it in one gulp. 

I could set my hands on fire, did you REALLY expect me to go and get drunk off the shits? Imagine the collateral damage! My phone buzzed with a text notification. Leonard, of course. But seriously, at five am? 

Throwing on one of my hoodies out of laziness, luckily wearing underwear underneath this time around, making it more of a dress, I went down a floor and knocked on Leonard’s door. “Leo, did you not sleep or did you just get up?” The door slowly opened to reveal a horrified Leonard. 

“Option A. I had someone check in on me about the seminar five hours ago, whether I’d show up or not, but they didn’t check in afterwards.” He moved aside to let me in, and I entered just as he made his way over to the laptop. “And now, the first thing I see this morning in the news.” He pointed to the article on his screen. 

Fifty dead. Brutally torn apart; they could only count fifty because that’s how many heads they found. The rest was either the new paint, or a lovely new pool in the center of the hall, as far as they could gather. Both me and Leonard were thankful they kept their description brief, to the point, and didn’t include any images of the scene. “I could have died. If I had gone, I would have died. And considering the scene?” Leonard fell on the lounge couch, rubbing his face. “There’s gonna be a Wraith. All the souls of those who horrifically died are gonna be haunting the place, poltergeisting, because they can’t rest properly.” I went for the chair, watching my friend look horrified. 

“Is there, is there any way to calm them to avoid that?” 

“A mass exorcism, maybe? Have Saint Pete and whoever the f**k sits down there sort them out? We would… have to make our way over, however.” Leonard turned paler than I thought was possible. He was whiter than a blank page in a Word document already. He was gonna go transparent at this rate. And he was definitely not ready to be anyone’s dad.

“Alright, got it, you go acclimate to gore with that weird branch of furry art, I’ll… guess I’ll have to go as Peter again for the tram ride.” My shoulders sunk down, and I let out a deep sigh; Leonard got an eureka expression in that moment. As if he had just had an epiphany. Or remembered something. It was followed by him rolling off the couch and crawling around his place on all fours, to pull out a tiny notebook he threw at me. I caught it easily. 

“I looked into glamours, found one that’s usually used to hide pimples or such, basically magic makeup, but it should work well enough.” I opened the little booklet, noticing the instructions scribbled there, and I beamed at the implication. I downright sprinted back up the stairs to my apartment afterwards, slamming the doors and quickly absorbing all the information from the booklet, and performing the spell. It felt as if I were brushed completely over by something. I entered the bathroom with closed eyes, turning to face where the mirror was. The anticipation was making me hyperventilate, but I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. 

I still looked like Lily. But my horns were gone, and my skin was no longer candy red, but peach-toned. I just stood there, staring at the reflection for five minutes, a smile creeping on my face during it, until I burst into a fit of laughter. I facepalmed, and ended up touching my horns, which were still physically present, just invisible. My laughter turned hysterical. “Why do you have to feel so right? Why do you have to feel correct? I can’t be a girl! I can’t be! It’s not allowed! Father will never let me!” I made my way out of the bathroom, still hysterically laughing. “I CAN’T BE ONE! HE’LL NEVER LET ME  BE ONE! AAAAAAAA!!”

It was half an hour later, once I managed to stop hysterically laughing and crying from seeing Lily in the mirror, that I made my way downstairs and outside, still in the one outfit I had bought. Considering the amount of time I spent as Lily, I should have gotten more outfits by now. However, I had only just gotten the glamour spell. The ability to just get to be a girl, without people staring at me weirdly. Although it meant no hats. I could live without hats. Leonard was waiting outside, dressed like The Dude’s goth twin, with what was probably a black bathrobe over a tank top and some skinny jeans, with flip-flops. “Thank f**k that I’m not into men. You put zero effort into this look, did you?” I skipped over to him, his expression showing just how hurt he was at me calling him out for his fashion choices.

“I’ll have you know this coat is a traditional exorcism coat; it has protective charms sewn between two layers of fabric!” He huffed and crossed his arms. 

“I’m not carrying your a*s home when you kiss the pavement due to heatstroke, Leo.” I started walking to the tram stop, the lazy wizard behind me.

“The room is going to be cold as Hell, I’m more worried about you freezing in there with your short skirt.” 

“I can set my fists on fire. I got turned into a literal s*x demon thanks to SOMEONE’S accident, which probably means I’m always the perfect temperature for cuddling.” At least I figured so; I hadn’t really gotten a chance to try it yet. 

“Speaking of… I see the glamour worked. You look cute in human form.” We were almost at the spot; it was still way too early, the only people up at this hour had bakeries and pastry shops and such to run. So there was nobody waiting for the tram. I was just hoping Cycle wasn’t the one driving today; they were really chatty with lone passengers.

“Thanks. The horns are still there, just invisible.” We got on, a whistle coming through the speakers of the tram. 

“Usually don’t drive anyone this early, kiddos, where are you off to?” The chipper ambiguous digital voice was something the AIs designed for themselves. And it wasn’t Cycle’s voice, thank f**k. 

“Old Campus, please.” I went to the seat that popped out of the floor as me and Leonard got on. 

“Alright, little miss devil, although it is a bit too early for any planned vigil to happen. They’re still busy identifying the victims.” Right, they would be. Although if the news had already reported on it, the city watch was probably identifying them off-location. The driver’s remark left me wondering though. 

“Little miss devil? What do you mean?” How the hell could an AI hired to run a tram see past a magic glamour? Leonard joined me and the tram departed. 

“I got so many different scanners in here to make sure somebody doesn’t get on with a g*n or a bomb, so I can see your horns on the infrared. Wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t just the two of you.” There was an audible shrug in the driver’s tone of voice, and thus I gave them a shrug in return. I’d trust an AI with that tech over a human with it. ‘Protect humans’ made them all ancoms that stood with the West during the civil war. 

And filmmakers thought Skynet would nuke us. 

The air was filled with dread as we approached the old campus; the buildings here were the origins of this city. First there was the college, then the town. The smell of iron was strong in the air, and considering I had cut myself while trying to cook before, I knew exactly what that smell meant. 

Well, Leo HAD also shown me the news. But it hits harder when you’re in the space the horror took place in. The smell was strong, but it wasn’t vomit inducing. There weren’t any officers around that could be seen now. The tape was there over the door to the lecture hall, as well as a notice warning people from entering and giving an overview of why. When you’ve got a swarm of drones to scan and record everything for you, collecting evidence takes half an hour tops. Leonard checked the door to see if it was locked, and once he had determined that yes, the off-limits area was locked, he pulled out a bone from a pocket in his coat, and tapped the lock three times. “Skeleton Key.” He threw it back in his pocket as he opened the door, and we passed under the tape inside. 

Have you ever watched the first Hellboy movie, the one from Guillermo del Toro, not the 2019 reboot? There is a scene in it of Rasputin rising out of a pool of blood, returning to our realm. I was fully expecting to see the weird smelly goat of a Russian with a supposedly magic d**k emerge from the center of the hall. The pool of blood would go past my ankles. And tbh, my d**k is more magical than his. I can make it disappear and reappear on command. Top that, Gregor. The walls hadn’t gotten a new paint job from the attack, and none of the desks, which were arranged in half circles around a center podium, were damaged. The room looked like one of the old observation halls hospitals had for surgeries in the 19th century. And it had resulted in the neat blood pond in the center of the room. When I tried to move around, I found myself held in place.

“Now what do two young adults like you have tah do with this mess?” There was a hand on my shoulder, gripping it tight. “Oh come on, who gave ya the makeup glamour ta hide ya demonic heritage? Was it mistah chicken wing key over here? Couldn’t even bother getting ya friend a nicer one? Amateur, fuggedaboutit.” The grip tightened. “I did ask a question though, kiddos, so ya better go ahead and answer quick, ‘fore I get even more suspicious of your antics.” Somehow, the Boston accent was adding to the intimidation factor, not loosening it. I dry swallowed. 

“He got invited but didn’t go and we want to free the trapped souls here!” I blurted out, hoping that would get the mafia impersonator off our backs. 

“Oh? Good Samaritans, ‘ere to free the souls? Well, that’s generous of ya, doing my job for me. Well, half of it at least.” The grip loosened as me and Leo got spun around to face the man. He was 5’4”, wearing bronze-rimmed glasses and a faded suit. He had felt much, much taller when he was holding on. “The name’s Bournael. Fallen Angel, current greeter at Hell’s Landing for the scum of the Earth. One of the scummiest bastards got out before I barbequed his rotten soul due to a botched summoning. Emerged here, had a snack, f****d off to God knows where.” Bournael got out a metal cigarette box from his pocket, but instead of a cigarette, he pulled out a pretzel stick to munch on from it. “Hell, they probably don’t know either.” 

There was a notification from Leonard’s phone, a newsletter from one of the news sites he was subscribed to. “Uhm. What’s the name of the soul you’re looking for, Mr. Bournael?” 

“Saul Raymond Luxton. Why, you got a clue?” Bournael was keeping the pretzel stick in his mouth as if it were a toothpick. His image didn’t really scream Fallen Angel, truth be told. 

“Does a breaking news article about a presumed dead CEO of a Seattle-based company reappearing and taking back control count as a clue?” Leo let both me and Bournael take a peek at his phone screen, the photo of the sharply dressed man entering the office building of Luxton Industries on it. 

“Oh, that bastard’s back to his classic antics is he? Well, kiddos, gonna have to rope ya into helping me out here with this piece a shit.” He finally bit into the stick, breaking it in half and chewing angrily. “How far is Seattle from Chertovice?” 

“Half an hour by bullet train,” I answered, knowing the track there easily. Father did have me visit for the holidays, despite how cold the visits felt. Hopefully the summer weather would keep my mind occupied from remembering that coldness.