Earth to Eli

Chapter 10

~𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞~

I allow Eli to blast his abhorrent rock music in my newly stolen car. (The genre is growing on me a bit, but I would never admit that to him, lest he rub it in my face that I was wrong to dislike it before.)

I let Eli control the aux cord, stick his head out the window, I even let him eat his granola bar and spew crumbs all over my beautiful velvet seats. Anything to ease my guilt about getting him arrested.

Remorse is not a feeling I am well acquainted with, so the newfound emotions leave me questioning my own sanity. Demons don't feel shame or empathy the way humans do. So why do I feel this way now?

Maybe it's Charlotte's sanctimonious ideologies finally eating their way into my brain like parasitic worms. Or maybe I am becoming fond of this human. Impossible.

"Wait, slow down I think I see something in the road ahead," Eli insists, at last turning the volume down on the stereo. I scan the back alley, searching for whatever Eli is seeing.

My eyes catch movement in the road, and I floor the breaks, bringing us to a complete stop directly in front of it. Some sort of unidentifiable animal scampers across the road, a slight hobble to its walk.

Before I can stop him, Eli is out of the car and making his way towards it. Looking behind us, I see no sign of headlights for miles. I let out a displeased sigh, put the car in park and follow him into the dark.

"Don't go near that thing, Eli. It's probably a skunk or racoon, it might have rabies," I warn him, not wanting to add a trip to the emergency room to our weekend agenda.

To my distress but not to my surprise, he chooses not to heed my warning. Instead, he crouches down in front of the animal and speaks in hushed words I can't make out.

To my bewilderment, the animal walks right into Eli's embrace. Eli lifts it into the air and clutches it close to his heart.

It's only when he's in front of me do I notice it's not a racoon or a skunk, but a tiny black cat. The only noticeable feature about the animal in the pitch-black night are its uranium, viridescent eyes reflecting off of the moon.

"Aw, cute. Now put that thing down so we can go home," I declare curtly, before turning and making my way towards the car.

When I don't hear any movement behind me, I glance over my shoulder. Eli stands his ground, peering down at the cat with so much sympathy and love that only a human can express.

He makes no move to let the cat go and something tells me that I will have pry the animal from his gentle grip.

"If we leave her out here, she could starve or get hit by a car, or-or worse," He responds stubbornly. An exhausted groan escapes my lips, and I can't help but roll my eyes. Why must Eli act like such a child at times?

"Even if I wanted cat hair all over my things, there are no cats allowed in the dorms," I reply, attempting to find an excuse.

The problem is not that I dislike animals, but I that fear getting attached. The grief of losing someone you love is a pain even demons feel strongly. Loved ones, especially pets can so easily be ripped out of your life at any moment. It's always best to avoid endearment at all costs.

"I thought you like breaking the rules," he challenges, knowing just what to say to change my mind. Have I just had reverse psychology used against me by a human?

"Alright, you got me there. But you're cleaning its litter box, and it stays on your side of the room," I give in begrudgingly.

 Eli yaps about cat names the entire ride home, and I've never wanted to listen to a Metallica song so bad in my entire life. 

When we arrive at the dorm, Eli sets up a space close to his bed and gets to work making the cat feel at home.

"I'll go with Charlotte to the pet store tomorrow to get everything she needs, but for now this will have to work," Eli explains while making a makeshift cat bed out of pillows and blankets. To my surprise, the cat seems grateful, snuggling itself under the blankets and snoring softly.

Eli has just finished creating a litter box out of an amazon box and paper towels when a knock on the door startles us. Eli frantically but gently puts the cat into the closet, securing the folding doors shut.

"Vance, I know you're home! I heard that you're back, and I saw your motorcycle outside," Veronica whines, rapping violently on the door.

Eli and I concurrently roll our eyes but don't say a word in hopes she will give up and leave. This only seems to frustrate her more, and I have no choice but to answer the door.

"I'm a little busy right now, what's up?" I open the door only a sliver. Naturally, she uses this as her chance to wrap her glittery claws around the door frame and force her way into the room. She flounces down on my bed, making herself at home.

"How did they just let you out? Are you okay? Why haven't you been answering my calls?" She sputters.

"It's kind of a long story, and yes I'm fine," I assure her before taking her hand and leading her back to the door.

"Eli and I were just about to start on a project, is there anything else you needed to talk about?" I lie, trying to hurry the conversation along.

"But- we don't have any pr-" Eli interjects cluelessly and I shoot him a look that could wilt gardens. Thankfully, he takes the hint and snaps his mouth shut.

"Yeah, actually. I want to know why you were about to leave my party with that girl from my psych class, Chloe or whatever her name is," She interrogates, clear disdain and hatred for Charlotte written all over her face.

In this moment, something about her changes. She's no longer the pretty athletic girl I saw before, but a hideous, unsightly troll. Her vile and loathsome personality is beginning to creep through and show on the outside.

"Her name is Charlotte and she's none of your concern. Listen, this isn't going to work out between us. It's over, Veronica," I pronounce with finality. I've finally managed to lead her into the hallway and out of my space.

A slide show of emotions plays on her face, hurt, confusion and finally, rage.

"This is all that bitch's fault! You've been sleeping with her, haven't you?" Tears of fury stream down her face. Not even a flicker of sympathy passes over me.

"Goodbye, Veronica, take care of yourself," I respond, practically slamming the door in her face and locking it firmly behind her.

She stands there cursing me to hell and back before finally getting tired out and leaving. I press my back against the door and close my eyes in peace that it's finally over.

My relief is short lived when a crisp, black envelope is slid under the door. It's sealed with red wax and the emblem of the fire kingdom. I feel my intestines turn to knots. I know exactly where this letter is from.

The letter reads as follows:

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛,

𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗.
 

                                                     𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎,
                                                           𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚊.