Our Dark Collision (English edition)

VII

I walk around the apartment alone, it's bigger than it might seem. Suddenly I find myself in front of a door ajar. Driven by curiosity, I peek through the opening on the inside, but when I find out what the room hosts, I throw open the door.
Tall bookcases rise to the ceiling and a loft allows you to take books on the higher shelves. The walls are completely occupied by the bookcases, only the one at the back is free and houses a window that illuminates the room. A night sky is painted on the ceiling, full of constellations and stars. It's a paradise, at least for me. My obsession with books has never been a mystery, it is since I can remember that I love to read, that I love to smell the scent of paper. I advance looking around in disbelief. The air is full of the smell of paper. For a moment I feel safe at home. Among all those books there might be some that can help me break the deal, I think. I begin to go through the various titles, most of them are in Latin and Greek and I cannot understand them. Then, finally, a title in my language. It seems to be less ancient than the others, perhaps it dates back to the twentieth century, inside there are no dates of any kind. The title reads: "Demonic art and history".
I place the tome on the circular table in the center of the room and carefully open it. I leaf through the first pages of the presentation, then I start reading the actual book. I learn that a demon is not born such, but becomes so through a pact with the Devil, sanctioned through blood, the renunciation of one's soul or that of a loved one. According to the type of origin, the demons are divided into two classifications. There are those who are created by a blood pact, they can live both on Earth and in hell and are born from misfortune and despair. Then, there are the demons born of the renunciation of the soul, one's own or someone else's. They can only live in the underworld because they are so ignoble beings that the Earth cannot bear their presence. They serve the Devil directly and are mostly concerned with tormenting sinful souls. Both types of demons retain their original human aspect, but can mutate into their demonic form which varies for each. I leaf through a few more pages, but when I read the title "Curses and Constraints" I freeze. My eyes dart from line to line. I take my breath away.
-I can't do it- I murmur in a broken voice.
-I can't- I repeat.
The text explains that breaking a blood pact can be extremely complex, but not impossible. To break the agreement, the soul mate of the demon with whom the pact was made must kill him with a dagger dating back to the demon's time of origin. The book explains that it is not clear whether a soul mate is necessarily necessary, but in any case it warns as to why this undertaking is complicated. A demon born of a blood pact maintains a human side in his soul, in constant contrast with the demonic one, which constantly struggles to prevail. This means that I should try to make the human part prevail.
I do not know what to do. I have no idea how it can make someone I hate with all my heart feel love for me. It is a contradiction. I rest my arms on the table, lowering my head and sighing. I try not to cry in frustration. I'm angry. Angry because I am in this situation because of my fault, but I could not do otherwise, Annie would have died, I wanted all this.
No, I was praying to a God, a God who would have to help me and instead ... instead she didn't.
I would like to scream, punch everything in front of me. Anger turns into unstoppable determination. Doesn't a God want to help me? Okay, I'll be the one to help and get me out of this situation. For my parents, for Annie and for me. I close the book and leave the library. Other than Jasper's presence, if it can be defined as such, there is no one else in the apartment. I hide the volume in a shoe box at the bottom of my bedroom closet. In my head, different ideas and reasoning alternate, one after the other. I have to figure out in what age Ash became a demon and from there find a dagger. But if I don't try at least in the slightest to make him infatuated with me, I have no hope. I sit on the bed while I continue to think. I have always been a somewhat reserved person and my experience with boys is very minimal, mostly I fell in love with characters from the books, but with real people almost never. I know why, I'm afraid of not having the situation under control and being hurt by the person I love. So I thought well of attaching myself to people made of ink and paper. This is probably cowardly reasoning, but after all, why put your heart in the hands of someone who could destroy it at any moment? A noise of dishes in the kitchen rouses me from my thoughts. I take a deep breath and leave the room.