Evil - Chapter 27
I didn’t know where I was going. Where could I even go? I didn’t know the area, and even if I did, every guard and police officer in the city was surely looking for me.
This is a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.
It's not easy being the Antichrist.
Anjelica’s mother never told her that she was a demon. Now, all she wants is her old life back, but that’s not possible for her. Not after what she’s seen.
Anjelica used to be a popular cheerleader with an awesome life, but that was before an evil cult of demons tried to use her blood to open a portal to Hell and start the Apocalypse.
She was rescued from that fate, barely, and because of the imminent threat to her life, her saviors ripped her from Los Angeles and brought her to a safe house in the middle of nowhere.
They said it was for her own good, but she would rather be dead than stuck in boring, old Bronard, Missouri. She was from the big city, so a sleepy, rural life wasn’t for her.
She longed for excitement.
So, when she met a young witch with a mysterious past who promised to show her everything she knew about opening portals and traveling between distant lands, they bonded immediately
I mean, what’s the worst that could happen, right?
It’s not like they would open an intergalactic gateway to another planet and get thrown into a brand, new world with no way to get back to Earth, right?
Join Anjelica in her own solo adventure and find out what happened to her immediately after the events in Magic.
If I was as dangerous to King Ulthar as Director Frente said, then I might be the most wanted person in the whole world.
Still, the thought of staying in that basement filled me with dread. I had to get out. The elevator door was surrounded by dozens of guards and agents, so I rushed to the other side of the office, where I found a set of stairs. I eventually made it to the lobby, and despite the heavy metal door’s best effort to stay closed, it eventually swung open. Sindra was standing in front of the glass doors leading out into the street, waving and smiling like she wasn’t part of a secret organization.
“Can’t let you go out that way,” Sindra said.
“What are you going to do. Kill me?”
“Oh god, no.” She pulled a gun from the back waist of her pants. “I mean, I do have this gun and everything, but no, I wouldn’t kill you.” She pointed the gun at my foot. “My orders were to lightly maim, with extreme discretion. I’m pretty sure I could blow off a toe or shoot you in the leg, though that could make you bleed out if I nicked a major vein.” She raised the gun to my shoulder. “Or, I could shoot you in the shoulder. Not a lot of important veins there.” She dropped the gun to my stomach. “It takes a long time to bleed out from a gunshot to the stomach. There are so many ways to interpret ‘lightly graze.’”
“Congratulations,” I said, the air burning my lungs. “You have successfully intimidated me. You win.”
She dropped the gun to her side. “Oh good. I mean, I take no pleasure in intimidating you, but we are taking a big chance sharing this information with a civilian, and since literally every single person in the country is after you right now, and you stick out like a big, red nose, they’ll definitely find you, and without training, you will for sure turn on us with even the lightest torture.”
“I will not!” I screamed.
“Really? I just threatened to lightly maim you, and you gave up on getting outside without even a fight.”
“Fair point,” I grumbled. “So, what now?”
“Let’s go upstairs. There’s a really terrible café on the top floor which has a very mediocre view of an ugly part of the city.”
I smirked. She was charming for someone who had just threatened to shoot me. “Lead the way.”
She pushed the button to the top floor, and we took the elevator to a small mess hall, not unlike the ones back in school, with long benches for eating and sneeze guards over a pathetic assortment of salad and sad-looking meat.
“You don’t want any of that.” She approached a meek, older woman wearing thick glasses that stuck out from her thin face and ratty black hair. “Two kirzes, please.” The woman produced two paper cups from under the counter while Sindra paid, and the woman gave her two steaming yellow drinks, which she brought to the table nearest the window.
“You were right,” I said, taking the cup. “This is a very average view.” I tasted what was in the cup, and it tasted like hot sweet corn. It was actually quite good. “What is this stuff? It’s great.”
“This isn’t even really good kirzes,” Sindra said. “My mom makes the best.” She swished her mouth from one side to the other as tears welled in her eyes. “She made the best kirzes fresh from alope from the garden.”
I placed my hand on her. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She took a sip. “King Ulthar took everything from me when his men raided our village, part of a campaign—” She started to cry. “I lost everything, and they don’t even teach it in school. They don’t even talk about it.” She looked up into the sky. “It wasn’t even a strategic position. He just took it because he could.”
“Is that when you joined the rebellion?”
Sindra shook her head. “I always wanted to design dresses—since I was a little kid. Mom taught me to sew, and Madam Fantasmo, she recruited me out of school. She has a knack for finding broken, little things and making them shine. I started helping her mend things in her workshop, and then, little by little, she trusted me more…when she offered me a job in the palace, I said yes, but not because of the rebellion. I wanted to kill the king myself, and she was a means to an end—she figured it out, though.” Sindra wiped her eyes with a paper napkin. “She found a poisoned sewing needle in my bustle one day. I thought she was going to have me killed. Instead, she told me the truth and offered me two choices—death at the hands of the king or helping bring him down. I wasn’t sure I’d made the right choice until I met you.”
“Please, I’m nothing. I’m nobody.”
“Exactly!” she shouted. When everyone in the café turned to her, she held up her hand in apology. “You are a nothing. That’s exactly what we need. Somebody who doesn’t think sunshine glows out of their butt for a change.”
“I don’t want a war, Sindra. I just want to go home.”
Tears glistened in her eyes again. “Me too, but two things I learned when I was much younger than I am today, are that some things are worth fighting for, and you can never go home again. I’m not saying you should cooperate and help the rebellion, but I do want you to look me in the eyes and tell me it won’t haunt you every day of your life if you don’t at least try.” She lightly touched my hand. “You’re a good person, Anjelica. And that’s the thing about being a good person. You have to do the right thing, or it eats away at you.”
She was right. I took another sip and said, “Can we just sit up here and drink this corn thing for a minute and not talk about how I’m about to throw my life away?”
Sindra turned to the window and didn’t say anything. My stomach churned as her words worked their way deeper. By the time we finished, I knew I was going to end up joining their foolhardy cause…
…but I wouldn’t do it without a price.
***
“Can I tell you a secret?” Sindra said as we made our way back down to the basement. We hadn’t talked much since the café, and even when we agreed to leave, it was all in a nod of the head and a tacit agreement by both parties. It was nice to hear her voice over the whirl of the elevator. “And promise you won’t get mad at me.”
“That’s two questions, and while yes, you can tell me, I can’t promise I won’t get mad about it. That’s a metaphysical reaction based on instinct.”
“Can you just say it, though?”
“No way. We just met. I’m not gonna start lying to you already.” I smirked. “I need to know somebody six to eight weeks minimum before I start lying to them all cavalier like that.”
“I’m gonna tell you anyway,” Sindra said, pulling out the gun. “This thing isn’t loaded. I’ve never shot one in my life.”
I laughed. “That’s pretty funny. I’m not mad at that at all. You stopped me from making a dumb mistake. Maybe you should have been an actor.”
She shook her head. “All I ever wanted to do was make clothes. If this is ever over, and if we win, I’m gonna make the most beautiful dress for you.”
“No offense,” I said. “But I hope I’m not around here long enough to wear it.”
The door to the basement opened, and we walked out into the catwalk. With the ding of the elevator, the whole of the basement turned to see me.
“Come on,” Sindra said, heading down the stairs. “Let’s get you to the director.”
I followed her through the sinewy passages of the basement until we arrived at a door when Director Frente written on it in golden letters. Sindra knocked but didn’t wait for an answer before she walked in.
“Sorry, Director,” she said, pointing to me. “But I thought you would like an update.”
I peeked my head in the door to see Director Frente behind a wooden desk. Madam Fantasmo and an older man with white hair and a salt and pepper beard looked at me. When our eyes met, Madam Fantasmo leaped up and grabbed me into a bear hug.
“You’re back!” she shouted. “I knew you would come back.”
“You literally had somebody meet me with a gun in the lobby, and she said she’d kill me if I left.”
“And it worked!” Madam Fantasmo dropped me gently and rustled Sindra’s hair. “That’s my girl.”
I sat down in the chair that Madam Fantasmo had vacated. She left it quite warm. “I’m in a difficult position, as you can expect. I’m in a new land with no immediate way home, and the whole of the government is trying to find me. Meanwhile, you offer me a lifeline and a purpose. I am inclined to accept it, but only if you meet my conditions.”
“I don’t think you’re in much of a place to make demands—” The Director looked around the room. The bearded man was nodding, but both Madam Fantasmo and Sindra stared angrily at her. “But you also have me in a difficult position because while I can be replaced, you can’t, at least not unless another traveler from another world falls from the sky today.”
“And I’m going to bet that’s doubtful.”
She nodded. “I can’t predict the future, but it’s doubtful.”
“Number one, I want to go home. That one should be obvious. I’m not spending the rest of my life in this world.”
“That’s not easy since we have no idea how to send you home or even where you come from.”
“I want somebody here working on it, night and day. When you figure it out, I’m the first to know.”
“Fine,” she replied. “Anything else?”
I nodded. “This one is the big one. Before we take down the king, we find Margaret and save her.”
She smiled. “Well, that’s a happy coincidence. We were talking about how to save your friend just now.”
“Lovely.” I leaned back in my chair. “Don’t let me stop you. I’m all ears.”
This is a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.