Felixentric

Scene 26

"Are you gonna get up?" a voice was above Felix's head. His eyes were still closed, but he could tell that whoever was above him was confused.

"No." Felix flipped his body around, so his face was buried in the cave between the seat cushions and couch back. "I'm going to fuse with the couch like a plant rooting into the ground and disappear."

"He's not up yet, either," the male voice whispered. Felix sat up to see Hale sitting on the chair next to the sofa, leaning back and with one leg bent up so his ankle was on his knee. He looked like a messenger of bad news. His eyebrows were twisted.

The ghost was a different person every time Felix saw him. Most of the days, Hale was worrisome and... "demanding" wasn't quite the word, but he certainly expected more out of Felix than Felix thought he could give. But some days Hale was uncharacteristically nuts or trapped in a quiet thought. There were a few times when he even looked scared or sad, but Felix knew it wouldn't last long.

Maybe Felix was starting to forget what Hale was really like, getting the ghost mixed up with other personalities. Or maybe Hale had really been ten people in one, too complex for Felix to define.

Hale repeated himself, "Quinn's not up yet."

Felix checked the clock. It was eleven. He'd never sat in bed so long in his life. But Quinn did so all the time, except today was a work day and that kind of stuff usually didn't slide. "Should I wake him?"

"He might get fired if you don't."

Felix stood up and walked toward Quinn's closed door with slow feet. Then, he took a deep breath and knocked. "Quinn? It's a weekday. Don't you have to go into the office?"

There was a bit of rustling and then a groan, like he was in pain at the chest or stomach. "I called in. I'm sick."

"Sick?"

"Really sick."

"Like, what kind of sick?"

"The kind where I'm going to stay in bed all day." His voice wasn't raspy like he had a cold or a sore throat, but the moan had been enough to sway Felix.

"Okay, I..." He wanted to say that he'd help with anything Quinn needed, but he was also afraid. But he also didn't want to seem like a dick who took shelter, food, clothing and money, but didn't help his host when he could. "Just tell me if you need anything," he squeaked.

"No," the voice was stern. "Don't come in here. Just don't."

Thank buckets. But also, Why not?

Felix turned away from the door and sat down back on the couch. He stared at Hale for a long moment before speaking up, quietly enough that only the ghost could hear him. "I was thinking, yesterday... After the church, I got hungry. You know, I got really really hungry, so I went into the forest and traded a deer for its soul... and I started thinking of you and the days we would defy grandpa's word about only eating human souls and would go out and trade. Remember?" He didn't know why he was asking a ghost, that came out of his own imagination, if he remembered something. But the ghost nodded, so he continued. "And I started thinking a lot about you and how great everything is..."

Hale didn't look at him. He could read Felix's mind just fine. He knew.

"But I can't talk to you anymore. I think I'm going to start trying to forget you." He also didn't know why he was trying to have a heart-to-heart with him, if Hale couldn't feel anything.

Hale clenched his fists. The copper rings glittered on his thumbs.

"All Christ figures have temptations... you know? Satan has to tempt me and I have to win. And since you're always putting a bunch of nonsense and pain in my head - and you're literally an illusion of what I expect to be a good thing - it has to be you. You have to be working for the Devil."