Impish

CHAPTER 23: END

Something stops it from hitting me, just as I flinch.

It's wood. It's a bat. I follow it to its logical end and find a hand wreathed in metal rings. Roux. It's Roux. They came to save me.

They're not looking at me. They're looking at Lady Istremid, gritting their teeth, pushing up with the bat.

That catches her off guard, more than enough for her to step back enough to let me up. The pickaxe is stuck in the wood of the bat and Roux yanks both weapons back. It's a quick tug of war and, when I jump in the middle and add my aching muscles to the mix, it is team humanity that is the winner.

It's genuinely hard to breathe as I keep fighting Lady Istremid. My ribs are sore. They feel like they're caved in or bruised. Under the shaking roof, I swear I'm going to pass out.

I drive the pickaxe up into Lady Istremid's skin, and Roux hits her in the back of the knees with the bat. Both of these things catch her off guard enough and throw her off her balance enough that she teeters and wobbles, then falls to the ground thanks to the conflicting forces delivering blows to her. Another column crumbles like the mighty woman between Roux and I. A rock flies out to the side and hits Roux in the shoulder; the back of my head bursts into flames from a similar bit of rubble. I quickly pat it out.

But we have her.

She's on the ground, incapacitated, covered in brimstone from her own domain. It's enough to hold her down.

I look at her. It's an odd angle. I don't feel powerful when I put my foot on her chest and my pickaxe under her chin. I just feel tired. "Are you done now? Can we move on? Can I leave?"

"I yield," she sighs. Like she wasn't impeded at all, like she had just gotten bored with the fight, she stands, brushes herself off, and looks down at me. She turns back to the demon woman she once was, pristine pantsuit and all. Courtney Istremid smooths out her skirt. "I will allow you to leave."

"Can you let Doug leave?" I look around her and sneak a look at him. Doug is currently being overpowered and given an acid-attack noodie by Gaz. Jeb is cheering them both on like this is a game of hockey or something.

She sighed. "Yes."

With a snap of her fingers, she calls off her demon clown and cannibal husband. I nod as the chains visibly fall off of his bleeding and bruised body, as they turn into a puff of smoke. Confident that this isn't a trick, that I have done what I set out to do, I turn. I look back at Lady Istremid. "What about me?"

"What about you?" She smooths out her pencil skirt again. It's not as pristine as I thought. There's a hole in it about the size of a cigarette burn.

"Are you going to make me look human again? Or put the demon inside me back to sleep or whatever the fuck it is?"

She sighs. "Yes. I guess. You know, this is much too much. I'm so bored I feel like I'm going to puke."

"Are you going to do it or not?" There is no patience in my voice. There is only anger.

"Yes," Lady Istremid sighs. "I will. Turn around and show me your back."

"What? Absolutely not. I can't trust you. How do I know you're not going to hurt me?"

"I won't. Jesus Christ," and smoke comes off of her tongue, "will you just do it so I can get rid of you?"

I sigh, then present my back to her. I fold my arms. "Go on, then. Get it over with."

She lifts up the hem of my shirt, bringing it up above the band of my bra and my shoulder. With one of her long, slender fingers, she traces what is there, whispers, "Brace yourself, brood-sister," and slaps one palm against it. I can't keep myself from screaming out as the pain wracks my body, starting at my shoulder and branching out. My head feels like it's on fire again, but worse. I can't do this. My throat is raw and, still, I scream. I can't do this. I can't withstand the heat.

And then it's over and I am left with the emptiness of relief. Lady Istremid waves Jeb over. He, still in his goopy demon form, comes over with a mirror in hand. He holds it up to me. I try not to look at him as I regard myself in the reflection.

I look different and the same. The horns are gone, replaced by blank skin and a few errant scabs and spots of acne under my dyed-yellow bangs. My skin is back to its normal pinkish-tan. I am who I was before.

But why do I feel so different?

"Now," Lady Istremid says, like she is about to start listing off the side effects of a medication, "you are not entirely human. You never have been. You never will be. You have sent a part of you back to sleep, but it is there. It will wake up again, eventually. It's just a question of how long you allow it to hibernate. Do you understand me?

"Yes," I lie. I don't get it. I don't get it at all. I don't think I ever will.

"Good. Now, go. Get out of my throne room. "

I take Roux by the arm. I start to leave.

As I walk through the doorway, I look over my shoulder and lock eyes with my father. "I'll see you in Hell."

Roux flips him off. The two of us leave, walking out of the park and leaving Hell behind.

Nobody tries to stop us. If they did, I don't think it would have worked anyway. Shaking, bleeding, and terrified, I lean on Roux as the two of us walk toward my car in the packed parking lot. I sit in the passenger seat this time, but we don't drive. Not yet. Not yet.

I don't know what's coming next. All I know is that I'm going back home to the only family I have ever known, and all I know is how to put one foot in front of the other.

I look at myself in the rearview mirror, at all the blood stuck to my face, at the weird mix of terror and relief in the eyes staring back at me, then at Roux. "Thanks. Thanks for saving me back there."

"Don't thank me."

"I'm thanking you. Sorry. What do you say, we go to that pinball museum you were talking about?"

Roux grins. "You know what, Mikey? I think I'd like that. I think I'd like that very much."