Inner Demons

Chapter 3. Ashes

Who soever shall seek to save his life shall lose it;

and who soever shall lose his life shall preserve it.

Luke 17:33

The demon was the first to snap out of his stupor, seemingly realizing how suspicious everything must have looked to Ann and Margaret from the outside.

"I need to go," he repeated, catching himself. "I just dropped off the documents, you know how it is—when it comes to my family, I'm never sure if I'll be able to make it back."

"Well, considering your cousin, I wouldn't be surprised by anything," Aunt Margaret laughed kindly, suspecting nothing. "But you're right, better to play it safe. Just keep in mind, if you don't make it back by the start of the school year, I'll have to fire you for absenteeism. I promise to declare you a federal fugitive beforehand. If we're lucky, maybe he'll get scared and let you out of his office."

"Uh... yeah," the librarian answered shortly to all this, nodded in farewell, turned to leave the apartment but froze, as if deciding whether he needed to add something. "Miss Cazador, may I have a word with you?"

I'm not sure why, but I followed him out into the hallway; my legs carried me as if they didn't belong to me.

"Oh, look at them, whispering secrets already," I heard Ann giggle joyfully as Stanislavsky closed the door behind us. "Oh, Mom..." — Margaret must have hushed her for the inappropriate joke. Ann always got scolded for trying to "pair" me with the librarian.

Instead of actually saying anything to me, and ideally, of course, discussing everything, the demon just kept walking down the hall, deciding that staying to talk about such nuances as the release of ancient demons and my murder under the school director's door wasn't the best idea. I had no choice but to silently shuffle after him. I had to give the creature some credit: despite everything that had happened, he patiently, as if we were still friends, waited for me to catch up in the hallway leading to the dormitory. It didn't occur to me right away that we were headed to my room. Apparently, from the monster's point of view, it was the only nearby safe and neutral place to talk.

To be honest, I didn't understand my own reaction to all of this; logically, I knew I should at least be screaming, resisting, trying to fight back. The being walking ahead of me wasn't human, even though it looked like one. This was the primordial enemy of my family and humanity. And yet I just kept walking and thinking that he owed me an explanation, as if a conversation could somehow fix the situation now or change things overall.

Nothing had changed in my room since I'd left for lunch with my sister. Except... In my favorite chair, still clad in his demonic black outfit, casually tossing the embroidered pillows to the floor and leaning on the armrest, sat Belial, covering his face with his hand. Either he didn't like the sunlight or he was simply resting. He didn't even look at us.

Unlike his friend, Belial was terrifying. Despite his appearance, which was otherworldly and mesmerizing, there was too much darkness in him, and he wasn't even trying to hide it. A beautiful, beautiful monster.

"Had your fun?" he asked his friend. The entity that had dragged me down the corridors—and now I was completely sure I hadn't been doing that of my own free will—released my mind from its invisible grasp, and my body noticeably swayed to the side. I had to grab the wall to keep my balance. Belial preempted my question about whether this was all a dream: "Don't even think about opening your mouth, you're getting on my nerves. Asmodeus."

Stanislavsky silently took a step to the center of the room, then knelt and lowered his head exactly as he had in the church. Belial fell silent again, but not for long.