Evil - Chapter 7
I felt completely helpless watching Margaret thrash on the floor.
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.
I felt completely helpless watching Margaret thrash on the floor. Mom taught me that when somebody was seizing, you needed to make sure they were on their side so they didn’t choke on the foam spewing from her mouth. I did that much, but then all I could think to do was rub her back and hope that help came soon. Luckily, within a few minutes, I heard the ambulance’s siren blaring down the road.
“Just hold on, Margaret. Help is on the way.”
I let the paramedics in, and they took over, barking questions at me that I couldn’t answer.
“How long has she been like this?” a brunette woman with pocky skin yelled, sliding a gurney under Margaret’s body and turning her over.
“I don’t—I called when it started—five minutes, maybe.”
“Margaret?” the male EMT said, looking down at the girl. “Can you hear me? She’s not responding.”
They filled a syringe and poked it into her arm, and then pulled up the gurney, pushing it past me before I could fully comprehend what was going on.
“Are you coming with us?” the woman asked.
I couldn’t stay there. It wasn’t my house. I wanted to leave a note, but there wasn’t time. They were running to the ambulance, and I had no idea what was happening to Margaret. I twisted the lock on the door and closed it behind me. “Yes.”
It wasn’t a long ride to the hospital, but the whole way, the woman riding in the back next to me peppered me with questions that I mumbled and muttered through without success. She clearly thought I was Margaret’s sister, and I didn’t want to dissuade her from that notion lest they banish me from the ambulance. I tried to just act dumb or panicked, instead of telling them the truth, that I was a stranger who didn’t know the patient from Adam—or I guess Eve. Luckily, before their suspicions could coalesce, they arrived at the emergency room and pushed the gurney behind a door where I couldn’t follow. I peered through the window inset into the door until they turned left and disappeared, and then, I was alone.
The good news was that I thought I was closer to home now…but I couldn’t just leave Margaret, could I?
“Are you the sister?” a nurse asked me, coming out from behind a long reception desk covered in tinsel and garland even though Christmas was months ago. The woman’s curly, black hair was frizzy like she hadn’t combed it in days. Her fair skin shone with a thin layer of sweat, and the bags under her eyes pulled down the whole of her face. It was a good bet she had been working a long shift. My mother wore the same face too often after pulling a double.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” I replied.
The woman studied me with her bloodshot eyes. “Either you are, or you aren’t. It’s one of those yes or no questions.” When my mouth did little besides fall open, she pushed a metal clipboard in my direction. “Somebody has to fill this out.”
I shook my head. “I’m not her sister. I’m just a—friend?” My voice went up on that last word because it wasn’t quite true, was it? I had only known Margaret for fifteen minutes before—
“We need to call the mother, then. Do you have her number?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, you’re about as helpful as a butthole on your elbow, ain’t ya?” She walked back behind the counter.
“Should I—fill this out?” I said, trailing off as the woman flipped through a big notebook. I looked down at the form and realized that aside from Margaret’s first name, I didn’t know the first thing about her. I tossed the clipboard on the seat next to me and dropped down into the uncomfortable cushion.
I didn’t know what Junebug would do if I called her. She might come and pick me up, dragging me out of the hospital before I knew if Margaret was all right. I couldn’t let that happen. I had no idea why I was there, but I had saved her life…maybe, and that meant she was bound to me, in a way.
An hour later, a woman rushed into the hospital. She was well put together, minus her frantic attitude. She pounded her leather-gloved hands on the counter of the reception desk until the nurse looked up from her book.
“My daughter—you called—she had a seizure.” Her voice crackled between worry and sadness. “Is she here?”
The nurse nodded. “You’re the mother?”
“I am.”
She pointed to me. “I gave that one the admittance paperwork. Fill it out and get it back to me as soon as possible.”
“Is she—”
“She’s fine,” the nurse said. “You’re lucky her friend was there.”
The woman didn’t seem thankful. She eyed me menacingly as she walked over to me. “Who are you?”
“I’m—sorry,” I said.
“How do you know my daughter?”
“I don’t. I got off the bus at the wrong stop. It was late. I knocked on your door. Your daughter—she gave me tea—and then—”
“You’re an idiot, then?” the woman said briskly.
“No, I’m just new to town.” Why was she being so mean? If I hadn’t been there, her daughter might be dead right now. “I was trying to do the right thing.”
“Lots of dumb things were done by people trying to do the right thing.” She pointed to the paperwork. “Is that the paperwork?”
I handed it to her. “Yes, ma’am.”
She swiped it angrily and looked down at it. “You only have her first name written here.”
“That’s all I know about her.”
“So, you don’t remember our address or anything else?” She asked, breathing a sigh of what I could only describe as relief.
“No, ma’am. Like I said, it was dark, and your daughter was kind.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Thank you for helping my daughter. I’m just very protective of her. There are not many good people left in this world.”
I smiled. “It’s okay. I’m really sorry for causing you worry.”
“That’s okay,” she scribbled down some information on the sheet and then smiled at me. “I’m going in to see my daughter now.”
“Can I come?” I said. “I don’t think I could sleep if I didn’t know she was okay.”
She thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Yes, I think that can be arranged.”
***
I had been inside a hospital bunches of times. My mother—my real mother—was a nurse after all. It never made it easier, though, to see somebody you knew lying in a hospital bed. All the color had drained out of Margaret’s face when a nurse pulled open the curtain to her bed.
When she saw her mother rolling a wheelchair into her room, Margaret smiled, but then she saw me and looked down in shame. “Oh god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Hey, it’s okay, dude,” I replied. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
She placed her hand to her head. “It’s just—I don’t meet many people, and shit—” She caught her mother’s eye. “Sorry.”
Her mother walked around to the other side of the bed. “Can you grab her other arm?”
“Um, why?”
“We’re getting her out of here.” She looked at Margaret. “Are you ready, sweetie?”
Margaret nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Lift,” she said, and before I could fully process the weirdness of the situation, I had Margaret wrapped around my shoulder, pulling her up from the bed before dropping her gently onto the wheelchair.
“Be a dear,” Margaret’s mom said to me. “Look outside and see if there are any doctors looking over here?”
I had so many questions, but it was all happening so quickly that instinct kicked in, and I pulled open the curtain despite myself. Even the biggest hospitals were criminally understaffed, and this small one was even more so. Two nurses milled around on the far end of the room, talking to each other, while a doctor near them checked over a patient’s vitals.
“Nope,” I replied. “Coast is clear.”
She pushed the wheelchair from behind the curtain down the hallway before any of them looked over at us. As we walked down the hall, an orderly pushed a large cart out of a room. For a moment, my heart pounded in my chest, but he didn’t pay us any mind.
Margaret’s mom pushed the wheelchair with confidence toward the front entrance. Before we got there, she turned the corner down a side hallway, muttering something to herself. A door at the end of the hallway said EMERGENCY EXIT in white letters on a red background. We were heading for it as fast as we could walk.
“Um, aren’t we going to sound an alarm?”
Margaret’s mom shook her head. “Don’t be silly. Now, open the door.”
Against my better judgment, I pushed open the door, expecting a loud alarm to sound. Instead, all I heard was the click of the door as the cold wind slapped me across the face.
“Thank you so much for your help,” Margaret’s mom said as we walked across the parking lot, not an ounce of warmth in her voice. She stopped in front of a white van. “Please don’t come around anymore.”
“Wait,” I said.
She opened the cargo van and picked Margaret up into the back of it like they had done it a hundred times before. “My daughter is fragile, and if this incident has taught us nothing, it’s that she’s not ready for friends. So, I would ask that you follow my wishes. I know what’s best for my daughter.”
I looked over at Margaret, whose gaze fell to the ground. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
Margaret slid toward the front of the van as her mom pushed away the wheelchair. Then, she looked down at her watch. “Good, good.” She slammed the back of the van closed. “I’m sure you understand, but we will be going now.”
“Wait,” I replied, remembering that I was still woefully lost. “Do you think you could drop me off at my house first?”
“How far is it?” she said, looking down at her watch.
“Bronard, right by the water tower.” I made the most pitiful face I could muster. “I would really prefer not to walk home.”
She thought for a second, then growled. “Very well. We have just enough time for that.”
Luckily, Bronard wasn’t a big town, and once I saw the water tower in the distance, I was able to guide them back to the dirt road where Junebug and Carl lived.
“I’m sorry for ruining your night,” I said to them, sliding out of the van.
“Hey!” Margaret said. “You saved my life. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” her mother grumbled. “Please shut the door.”
I did, and that was that. No goodbye, just the van driving off into the distance. Before I could get to the stairs, the door flew open, and Junebug rushed out. “Oh my god, you’re okay!” She hugged me tightly. “I was about to call Kimberly. I thought they got you.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I just got lost, and I didn’t have your number.”
She slid her arm around my shoulders. “Well, I’m sure you’re hungry. I’ll heat up dinner, and you can tell me all about it.”
Nobody had ever taken such an interest in the machinations of my day, and I was very, very confused by it. However, I would never say no to more of Junebug’s delicious food.
This is a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.