The Miscreants of Xiphoid Camp [NOT UPDATING CURRENTLY]

» 2130 « Chapter 1 - This is where it all begins

Nearly five years had passed since Avior first heard about the demons. He was older, taller, and (probably? hopefully?) smarter now, and he had figured out what exactly he was up against. The dictionary in the small second-floor library just two doors down from his room had given the simple, and thankfully easy to read, definition of 'an evil spirit'.

The internet had provided a slightly longer answer. 'An evil sprit or devil, especially one thought to possess a person or act as a tormentor in hell'. Text-to-speech was a blessing.

And Jeremy from the back of the bus had had the most enlightening answer of all: your mom! With those three definitions, plus the information he had gathered by sneaking onto his oldest brother, Francis's computer to access websites that were blocked on his own laptop, he had a pretty damn good understanding of what demons were.

They were evil spirits, often thought to be from hell (though nobody could agree on what exactly hell was), who thrived off of pain and misery, and for whatever reason there was this huge rumor that they had started reappearing since 2080. And also he was half-demon thanks to his mother, who was apparently a demon. A real charmer, that Jeremy.

Ever since that one night when Avior had first heard that conversation in the kitchen, his uncle Lennart had visited more and more often, until it got to a point where one of the guest rooms was set aside specifically for him to stay in when he sojourned briefly at the Viator household. Last time he visited, he had left a pamphlet on the dining room table. Avior stole it before his evil stepmother could get her sensibly-manicured talons on it.

Turned out that the pamphlet advertised in bright purple letters: "XIPHOID CAMP. THIS IS WHERE IT ALL BEGINS." Written inside in his uncle's scribbly, hurried penmanship: "for when you reconsider." And surprise, surprise, the following week Avior's parents had informed him that he would be going to Xiphoid Camp for the next three months. He was counting on being kicked out within the first month. He'd been expelled from two different schools. He could make it happen.

Avior sighed and kicked the half-packed suitcase that sat with a smugness about it in the middle of his room. He was leaving for camp at noon, so technically he still had six hours to convince his parents that abandoning him at Xiphoid was a terrible idea. They probably just wanted the house to themselves. Francis had left ages and ages ago, and Archer was going to college in September. with Avior gone, they could do anything

Which was another reason why this was a bad idea. Without any reason to come home, they might join a traveling circus or go out looking for the Bermuda triangle and end up dead, and Avior would probably have to go live with his weirdo uncle. That really was an excellent argument against going to Xiphoid. Avior would have to bring that up at some point.

With near-perfect comedic timing, there was a sharp knock on his door. "Come in," Avior said flatly. His stepmother opened the door. She was wearing her standard pencil skirt and blouse combination and heels that seemed to be ill-suited for walking in a forest out in the middle of nowhere, like she was dressed for a desk job instead of driving her youngest to camp. Xiphoid Camp was hours upon hours away; Avior had looked it up. It didn't even show up properly on the online map, there was just a huge circle of trees encircled by a lake.

"Oh, good," she said, "you're already up." She looked at the suitcase with disdain. From his vantage point, Avior could see a small dent from where he kicked it. He'd have to find some way to ensure his stepmother didn't find out about it. "Is that really what you're going to wear?" she asked, with a pointed glare towards Avior's all-black ensemble. "It's the middle of August!"

He shrugged. "There's no telling how warm it'll be at this unknown and strange location," he said. Plus, he liked black. She could press charges for all he cared.