Chapter 11 : Red

TW: Implied sexual assault Three days. It's been three days since I've seen Asmodeus. I was irritable and in pain. The pesky aches and sore muscles were back. All my limbs felt like lead as I dragged them around behind me during my shift. But I powered through, hating every moment of my existence as I dealt with entitled patrons and Bill's shitty backhanded comments. I'd done my best to avoid him, but ever since I caught him coming onto Sarah, I felt like he's been watching me. No longer a fly on the wall, I had become an active pest buzzing around his ears. Maybe I was paranoid. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep. After I saw Asmodeus's new form, I expected him to visit me the next night to feed. Indulge me. Take my opportunity to understand him. Prove to him I wasn't going to let him go. But he never showed up. Instead, I propelled myself neck-deep into nightmares. The crash over and over again. The horrifying image of my mother dangling over me, her blood everywhere. Storming rain outside. I almost couldn't feel my own injuries. I couldn't move against the numbness crushing me. "You did this to me," she groaned, tilting her broken neck up to me. "Worthless little worm." Her broken body fell on top of me, legs broken in odd directions, skittering like a spider. I tried to scream. Say I was sorry. But it never mattered. She never listened. She didn't look like my mother in my nightmares. She didn't sound like her. My guilt contorted that wonderful woman into a ghost. And now Asmodeus wasn't occupying my time, the ghost came back to haunt me some more. A ghoulish creature of my own making. I'd wake up, breathing hard, tears streaming down my face. Whenever I'd blink, I'd see her. See this spidery monster in the dark corners of my room. I felt saturated all over, thinking it was her blood. A thick red ink encircling me in a sickly warmth. Flicked my light on only to see it wasn't blood at all. I'd be dripping with my own sweat. The creature in the corner was only a pile of unfolded laundry. I couldn't even wear her earrings, so they sat on my dresser. Untouched. I'd take caffeine pills, forcing myself to stay awake. I couldn't sleep. In the dead of night, I'd be wide awake, sobbing into my hands. Take scalding, hot showers to scrub the sensation of blood from my skin, even though there never was any, until I had rubbed my skin raw. My body felt worn, crying out for Asmodeus to visit me. Take it all away. I'd give him anything he wanted just to make it stop. I could feel myself deteriorating more and more every day. I needed him. A spiteful rage simmered inside of me, knowing if it wasn't me, he was finding someone else to sate him. The only solace I had was knowing whoever it was would end up dead in the morning. I should care about a clueless girl dying. I should care about another life blinking out of existence. But I didn't. All I could think about was how they had something I wanted. Something mine. I still felt him everywhere I went. Like a viper with its fang embedded into flesh, a venom so potent it made everything feel like ecstasy. That didn't matter, because it was my venom. My craving. My trembling hands and dry mouth. I wanted the sting. The needle throbbing in my vein, flushing me with an intoxicating poison. I could feel his dimpled smile, an obsessive reminder he left me. I was a fool to think I was special. The only thing special about me is my inability to die. The sweet bliss of death would be a stranger. Now he'd be dancing with someone else, fooling them into thinking they were special when they were only disposable. Exhaustion pulled on my eyelids, beckoning me to fall into a slumber standing up. But I couldn't. I'd see the same thing. Monsters. My eyelids fluttered closed as I brought a tray of appetizers to one of my tables. I stumbled, dropping the tray and splattering my uniform with ranch and ketchup. I dropped down to the floor, trying to clean up my mess. "Damn it," I whimpered. I was losing it. It had been such a long fucking day. Barely keeping it together. On autopilot. So close to snapping. A warbling noise bubbled past my lips, tears welling in my eyes. I couldn't take it anymore. I tried not to cry. So hard, but I couldn't help the first sob slip past my lips. Everyone was staring at me. I could feel it. But damn it, if that didn't make the tears fall faster, humiliating me further. "Hey, hey," a fellow server, Tony, dropped to my side, helping me pick the cheese fries and mozzarella sticks from the ground. "I got this. Go get cleaned up." I sniffled. "Thanks, Tony." The older man gathered the tray, balancing it on his forearms and helping me up to my feet. "Of course. What table was this for?" "Four," I croaked. He gave me a supportive smile, and nodded, disappearing into the kitchen. I went the other way into the back room. "Get yourself together, Adira," I mumbled, swallowing down the lump of embarrassment. Put yourself back together. You can do it. You've done it before. Then pretend nothing happened. Taking a deep breath on the way back, I settled myself. Thankfully, this wasn't the first time I'd gotten food on my shirt, so I had a spare in my locker. My shift was almost over, another hour or two, just after sunset. Grabbing the shirt, I headed toward the employee bathroom. I stepped into one of the stalls. Yanking the shirt over my head, I tried to avoid getting ketchup on my face or smearing my makeup. The door kicked open, but whoever it was closed it softly. Clicking the lock. My eyebrows came together, trying to see if I could figure out who it was. Or what they were doing. A shuddering breath. One…two of them. I looked past the gap in the stall door to see blonde hair, mussed to one side. Two hands trembling on either side of the sink. She pulled lipstick from her purse, shakily trying to fix her smeared pink gloss. Sarah's shade. Her hand proceeded to shake and she hurled the lipstick into the sink, a loud cracking noise from the cheap plastic tube. Her body heaved, the shuddering breaths becoming full-fledged sobs. A tortured noise. No… Don't cry. I opened the stall door, watching the woman stiffen, her cries pausing. "Sarah?" She whipped around, furiously wiping the tears across her face. But I could see it. Fingertips imprinted on her shoulder where the shirt sagged to the side. Lipstick smeared. Hair mussed on one side like someone pulled it. "Adira…hi," her voice broke. I gulped hard. "What happened?" "N-nothing. Don't worry about it." I took a few steps forward, feeling bold. But a fire raged inside of me. Sarah had been nothing but kind to me. "The bruise on your shoulder doesn't seem like nothing." She took a few steps back from me, shaking her head and parting her lips. But once her back hit the wall, she couldn't hide it anymore. Sarah wheezed, breaking into a million pieces in front of me. That's when I saw it. Her tights were ripped. A sharp scratch where the material was torn. Red flashed over my eyes, only for a moment. The desire for violence hummed beneath my skin, but I didn't act on it. Instead, I knelt down. Sarah's bloodshot eyes looked at me, looking like a frightened prey animal. "What do you need from me?" I asked gently. Her face contorted into another cry, voice warbling. "Please…just go." If that's what she wanted, then that's what I would do. "Okay." She nodded, and I could hear her lock the door again when I stepped out. Even though exhaustion bore down on my bones, the boiling rage kept me awake. Coherent. Hungry. My lips were in a thin line because I know exactly who the fuck hurt Sarah. A growl bubbled from my chest and I looked down the hallway to Bill's office, where the door was slightly cracked. Fuck. I was so angry. A wave of anger so volatile I could have set fire to the whole fucking city block. Glancing toward the door to the dining room, I debated whether I should get back to work. Sweep it under the rug. Pretend I didn't see anything. Last week that was exactly the type of person I was. Not anymore. No. No fucking way. Before I could convince myself out of it, I stormed down the dark hallway. It scared me a few days ago. To think of this man and his ability to overpower me. But I overestimated how much I cared about my own safety. Bill could kill me if he wanted. I didn't care. But I wasn't going to stand aside and let him take advantage of someone because everyone else was too chicken shit to say anything to him. I pushed the door to Bill's office open and closed it behind me. "What do you want?" Bill spat out at me, sitting at his desk and clicking away at a desktop computer. Tilting my head to the side, I noticed the pink gloss streaked on the side of his mouth. "You have a little something on your mouth." His cold stare shot over to me as he brushed his mouth, as soon as he realized what it was, he chuckled. "Oh. That's none of your concern, doll." "I'll report you." He slowly rose from his seat. "Is that a threat? Did you come into my office and threaten me?" Crossing my arms, I ignored the anxious shake in my hands. Firming my resolve. "And what proof do you have?" Bill asked, narrowing his eyes. He was a beefy man, tall and wide. "A little bit of gloss on my lips?" I wavered, only for a moment, but he noticed, smiling under his thick mustache. "Leave Sarah alone." "Or what?" He canted his head to the side and I really didn't like how his eyes felt scanning my legs. His office felt too small. The sickening energy came off of him like a fog. Suffocating. "Tell you what. Give me something I want and I'll leave Sarah alone." An icy chill ran down my spine, blowing out the raging fire within me as easily as a flickering candle flame. His office seemed to get smaller, walls closing in around me. The anger I held onto so tightly abandoned me, leaving only fear. "W-what do you want?" "I bet you're a real ride. The ugly ones usually are." His words stunned me and I took one step back, reaching for the doorknob. He moved faster than he looked, consuming the distance between us before he grabbed my wrist. He yanked me toward him and I tried to shove back. He only grabbed harder until there was no way I could break free. I cried out in shock when he squeezed, my fingertips tingling from lack of blood flow. "Sarah cried too much, a real bore. But you'll make it my while. Won't you? Hmm? Doll? Little Broken Doll?" Each word was a tease, a cruel jab in the ribs. My eyes were wide, hands useless. "N-no. I won't do that." He analyzed my face and it made my stomach churn when his eyes lit up maliciously. "Then let's sweeten the pot. How bad do you need your paycheck?" He released my hand, marching toward his desk and pulling out an envelope with my name on it. "A little birdy told me you were struggling to pay rent. Or better yet…" he reached out and pulled out another check, "I withhold Sarah's, too." I gaped. "That's illegal! You can't do that." Bill shrugged. "Mix up with payroll. Happens all the time. I'll just order a new check." My aching wrist reached behind me, feeling for the doorknob. Anything to get me out of this fucking room. I threw the door open, stumbling over my feet when they moved too fast. "Oh, Anita," he called out, purposely saying the wrong name. A better way to dehumanize me, "…Sarah needs to pay her rent in a few days. I won't wait forever. If you're not fast enough, I might just turn my sights on Mia. Such a cute little thing." My fingers curled into fists as my shoulders shook like I was cold. A pained sob got stuck in my throat, helpless tears running down my face. I ran out of the diner as fast as I could, not even stopping to say anything to Tony as he stared at me. I needed to get home. Out of here. Starting my car, I drove as fast as my car would take me. Small pitter-patters of rain dotted my windshield. And no one in Los Angeles knew how to drive in the rain. Suddenly, it was a few years ago. I was hunched in the passenger seat, too drunk to drive myself home. Nova had taken me out to a bar, left me there to go home with some random guy. So…I called my mom to get me. Rain was rare in LA, so I was staring out the window, watching it make lines on the glass. Wondering which droplet would race the other to the bottom. Thunder echoed above us. No. No. No. A loud honk pulled me out of the memory and I gasped, swerving back into my lane before I hit an oncoming truck. Fuck. I needed to get home. I couldn't be here. Out in the rain. Alone. Glancing to my passenger seat, I saw the demonology book sitting there. Beckoning me like it always did. Not now. It was a miracle when I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, barely awake and shuddering. Grabbing my bag, I tucked the book into it, wanting to read more when I got inside. Distract myself. I held the bag close to my chest to protect it from the rain. Raindrops stuck to my eyelashes as I approached the building, but that's when I saw something. All my stuff. My dresser. My bed. Boxes of my clothing. All sitting on the sidewalk, getting soaked by the downpour. Movers passed me, some items tarped and heading into a moving truck, while mine was left on the curb. Nova. A hot spear of pure unadulterated resentment shot through me. I saw red. And this time, the red didn't go away.