He stops in his tracks and folds over in annoyance. “You literally never stop talking, do you?”
“What can I say? This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been treated as a pest.”
He’s quiet for a beat as he straightens but doesn’t yet continue walking. “You realize what you just said is really sad, right?”
“Oh, shut up.” My face is burning. I meant I’m not afraid to annoy people, is all. Nag to get what I want. Sure, I also have experience with feeling unwanted, left behind, but so does everyone.
I can feel him grinning as he marches forward. “Fine. If you must know, we’re heading to a cave in the area. Just to do a little ritual sacrifice. The nether region tends to get suspicious if they don’t track me taking lives often enough.”
Nether region? Is he…is he talking about Hell? If he is, do they actually call it that? I hate that.
I’m afraid to ask for clarification, so I don’t. He keeps talking.
“Luckily, they can’t distinguish the difference between humans and most other living things with eyes. I was going to killthat bug, but you made me get rid of it. Perhaps I’ll find a deer instead. A little fawn. They are quite cute, don’t you think? I’ll stuff it when I’m done.”
Asshole. “Can’t you find another bug?”
“I did see a butterfly a bit ago. Maybe I can use that.”
“Asshole,” I snip aloud. Then my brain backtracks. “Wait, do you not kill humans?”
“Not really.”
“What does ‘not really’ mean?”
He yanks a handful of leaves from a tree branch we pass, crumpling them in his hand and letting them fall to join the rest of the dead leaves on the forest floor. “It means no, but how uncool is it for a demon to say they don’t kill humans?”
My brow scrunches. He’s worried about sounding “uncool?” Not that I’m anywhere near an expert, but that seems…odd.
“You’re a weird dude,” I say.
“I’ve been told.”
We soon come across another bug. He picks it up and deposits it in a jar he pulls from a duffel bag on his hip. We keep walking in silence. Eventually, we find the cave he must have been talking about earlier and kneel down inside it. He pulls a lantern and a piece of white chalk from the duffel bag. He lights the lantern with a silver lighter?—
“That’s my dad’s,” I say, voice thick. Throughout my childhood, he would carry that lighter around like a safety blanket. It reminded him of how strong he was to quit smoking, holding the trigger for his worst habit in the palm of his hand. Not that it mattered in the end.
Now, I always carry it around with me. He may have left me,but the lighter won’t.
The lighter is brought closer to my window as he examines it. “I’ll be careful with it,” he says.
“Sure, you will,” I mutter bitterly.
Next, he draws a circular symbol on the cave’s stone floor. It’s full of sharp lines and jagged curves. I’ve never seen anything like it—the sight of it alone sending a metaphorical shiver down my spine.
“The symbol is an offering to Hell. I kill the bug, they get a tiny kick in power, and I’m in the clear for a bit,” he offers without my having to ask.
The bug in the jar is brought back into my sightline, so I close the window. It’s only a bug, but I’d still rather not watch. Distantly, I hear him muttering. I don’t understand what’s being said.
“I’m done,” he says after a little while.
I reopen the window as he moves out of the cave. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.” He shields his eyes as we re-enter into the bright sun.
“Can you let me go now?” I ask softly.
“Nope.”
