The Glory in the Demonic: Chapter 0-1

0

The moon blinked because at some point it had morphed into a swollen eye.  Its gaze darted across the devastation below it.  Around me hoards of the dead wailed.  And the air was so wet and red.  An awful vicious red that clogged the lungs.  My coughs were haggard as I drowned just from breathing.  And above me a decapitated god floated.  Chunks of flesh large and small broke off its cancerous torso.  Each piece made a thunderous sound as it collided with the ground.  Its broken arteries showered everything in a spring downpour of blood and pus.  Nothing was left uncovered.  The sludge seeped into my eyes.  My ears.  My skin.  The viscera squirmed with parasites.  They fought to replace my own blood I was sure of it.  I might have been sobbing if I could still hear myself above the roar of droplets and scream of corpses.  My family hid somewhere in the remains of town.  I needed to find them.

I slogged my way through the forest until I found the road.  The dead were content to ignore me as they feasted on the growing river of gore.  Fortunate, or I would have been their meal instead.  The same could not be said for the sheriff.  His car sat upended a few paces from me, and the man himself crushed under one of the wheels.  An emaciated corpse of a woman tore into his ribcage with gleeful squeaks.  When I heard a bone snap I gagged.  The taste of my own bile was overwhelmed by the rancid flesh.  Pieces of it went into my mouth.  I heaved so hard something in me popped.  How did it come to this!  HOW DID IT COME TO THIS!

1

Dr. Bowman smiled on rare occasions.  I supposed this was one.

“It’s a good day Phoenix.  Your last day.”  The chain attached to her glasses clacked as she bobbed her head.  “Are you excited to see your family?”

A bird hopped along the office windowsill.  Tiny and yellow.  A finch?  Or maybe a warbler?  Lily was the birdwatcher not me.  I pushed the rolling chair I sat in toward the window.  The bird’s feathers seemed soft up close.  A slight gust ruffled them and I smiled.  It must be nice to fly.

“Phoenix would you please come back to my desk?”

“Oh.  Yes of course.”  I rolled back to her and grabbed the set of papers she had lain out.

“The conditions of your discharge.” She clarified.  “Your stepfather has helped coordinate with a therapist in your area.  This upcoming month will be the most important for you.”

“So I’m leaving.”  Not quite a question.

“Yes.  Unless you don’t feel safe doing so?”

I looked back at the window.  The bird had flown away.  “No. I’m ready.”

White plastered on white.  Except for the floors which were blue.  And that one pink splotch on the ceiling.  This room needed more color.  I had covered my half with paintings but the white still suffocated everything.  My roommate stared at the ceiling spot with me.

“Who do you think will replace you?”  She rolled off her thin bed and splayed across the floor.  Mia arrived last week.  Substance abuse from substances she never elaborated on and I never asked about.  “I hope they’re a nice guy like you.”

I shrugged even though I lay out of her view.  “I don’t think speculating will be productive.”

My roses in the garden would be in bloom soon.  And the Wood Lilys.  No more white on white.  There would be red and purple.  I stood and began to pace.  Only one more night.  I drew shapes in the air with my hands and pictured leaves between them.  My chest ached to see green.  The neglected atrium here was a poor excuse for being outside.

“Phoenix.”  Mia asked.  “Can I have your butterfly painting?  I really like it.”

I spun around on my heel and yanked the paper off the wall.  A tangerine hoard of wings swarming zinnia.  Acrylic paint deserved better than cheap paper but I worked with what I had.  I pressed the painting into Mia’s outstretched hand.

“Take them all if you want.  Take the mountains.  Take the tower.  Take the…dog?  I’m not sure what I made there.”

And she did.  Every picture peeled away and taped to her wall.  Her expression softened.  Relief or something close to it.  I paced around the room until the staff called for lights out.  Dark on dark.  And with the dark came the dreams.

♤♡◇♧◇♡♤

Will I remember this when I wake?  Of course I will.  This endless void with its spires of salt.  Everything smells of licorice and something tart.  The water I stand in, it reaches my waist, is cold.  I have stood here countless times.  The ivory door seldom appears.  Always locked.  I need a key.  I have no key.  There is no door.  Not yet.  Maybe never.  Never.  Never.  Never.

♤♡◇♧◇♡♤

The first time I tried was one year ago in the forest behind our house.  I promised myself never again.  One month ago I broke that promise.  Lily found me bleeding out under a tree.  One month ago my family admitted me.  One week ago Dr. Bowman began discussing my release.  Ten minutes ago my stepfather signed me out.  Now.  Now it was too bright outside.  The heat of midday intense and summer air thick.  Lily waited by my side with a small bag of my belongings.  She threaded a hand through my hair and my eyes fluttered shut.  I missed my sister.  She held onto me when my knees buckled.

“Hey.  Phoenix you’re here.  I’m here.  It’s okay.”  She whispered into my shoulder.  We were going home.  I was actually leaving.  A black pickup rolled up alongside us.  My stepfather beamed as I opened the door.  His glasses sat crooked on his face.  Two sizes smaller than mine.

“Ready to go home bud?”  He gave my shoulder a soft punch.  I nodded and did my best to settle into the truck.  Strips of duct tape still held the broken glove compartment closed.  The AC did its best to wheeze out cooled air.  A burnt hole marred the seat upholstery next to my head from a firecracker Lily blew up years ago.  I am not sure what I expected to be different. Marcus’ hairline still receded under his sun-bleached cowboy hat.  Lily fiddled with a rubix cube in the backseat while keeping an eye on me.  We were not twins but we certainly looked the part.  Both of us had heads of unruly blonde hair and Mom’s blue eyes.

The truck let out a roar as it accelerated into the street.  Marcus turned off the stereo and I muttered a thank you.  He knew how much I hated his country blues.  Instead of music Marcus rambled about his job.  And Lily mused about activities for the summer.  I listened.  The expectation of them dredging up my time at the hospital never came true.  It almost felt like a road trip.

We only stopped twice.  Once to use the restroom at a dingy gas station.  And the second time at an overlook in the mountains.  We ate sandwiches and watched the sunset.  The bread tasted soggy and the wind kept tousling Lily’s hair into her face.  Marcus strummed a fake guitar and hopped around us before complaining about his back.  We laughed and it was summer and I felt...okay.

After hours of mindless driving, we reached a familiar forest.  At night the trees seemed to eat the car’s headlights.  Lodgepole pines and blue spruce clustered around each other for miles, probably to whisper secrets.

Marcus let out a whoop.  “Almost home!”

We passed a tiny sign with gold letters.  A flickering lamp kept them barely visible.

Welcome to Hassen

Pop. 268

Hassen sat right where the forests of the Rockies gave way to the rangelands of Wyoming.  This community should have died a long time ago.  I wished it had more than I like to admit.  The occasional tourist and a few failing ranches kept the place afloat.  It consisted of seven real historic brick and mortar buildings.  Two of which were foreclosed.  The trailer park on the outskirts had more broken-down RV’s.  At this point in the night someone might have suspected Hassen was abandoned.  Only the bar remained open at this hour.  Trucks and a few cars crowded the street around it.  Marcus made a sharp turn off the asphalt onto a winding dirt road.  Mom hit a pronghorn on this road once.  I cried for a while after that.

Our home sat closer to the mountainside than most.  A little one-story house on a secluded property grandpa’s grandpa built.  Strings of fairy lights on small poles illuminated most of it.  A side project that my best friend Ezra finished years ago.  Flowers covered everything else.  Penstemon, Russian sage, Roses, Harbell, and so many others.  They were my project.  And apparently a new one had happened in my month away.

“The house looks nice.”  I commented.  “Very red.”

Lily hopped out of the truck and stood by my side.  “Ezra and Hadiya were a big help with the painting.  Ezra especially.”

“We’re helpless without him.”  I said to myself.

“Don’t tell Marcus that.” She joked.  “Hadiya and Ezra will be here tomorrow.  If you’re good with that?”

“Yeah.”  I paused and took a long breath.  Pine needles and sagebrush.  “Yeah.  Is it okay if I stay out here a bit longer?”

She looked as if she wanted to say something but nodded instead.  I walked around the house to the garden.  Little shoots broke through the soil in neat rows.  I ran my hand over a few green buds.  The carrots and radishes looked good but everything else was a gamble.  Growing anything in Wyoming felt like asking for a miracle.

“Lily and I did our best.”  Marcus stopped beside me.  “With the garden I mean.  Think it hates us though.”

“You did good.”  I mumbled.  “Thank you.”

Marcus toed at the dirt for a minute.  He needed new boots.

“So.  Found a therapist.  Well, only therapist in the area.”  Marcus rubbed his hands together.  A nervous tick of his.  “Turns out Daniel Hall’s wife is licensed.  Got her education at a bigwig university.”

The scowl on my face almost hurt.  “The Hall family.  Really?”

“I know Phoenix.  I tried looking elsewhere but the nearest clinic is two hours from here.  Your doctor at the psych ward called it somethin.”  He stamped his foot.  “Oh!  A medical desert.  We live in a medical desert.”

I held back my sigh.  “Okay.  When is my first appointment?”

“Monday.  Someone’ll drive you to their ranch.”

“Ranch.”  I scoffed.  The Hall family were billionaires cosplaying as cowboys.  Their ranch could be considered a town in its own right.

“Hey now.  I’m not happy about this either but you be nice to them Phoenix.”  His voice cracked a bit.  “I-I can’t watch you…”

“Thank you, Marcus.”  I stood and interrupted him with an awkward hug.

He sniffed and wiped at his face.  “Come on bud.  Let’s get some shuteye.”

For once my bedroom was a welcome relief.  I threw myself onto my mattress and melted into the sheets.  No more paper-thin hospital blankets.

“Please wake me up if you need anything.” Lily said from my door.  “Don’t go quiet on us Phoenix.”

I gave her a thumbs up with my face still buried in my pillows.

“Dork.”  She chuckled and turned off my light.  I flipped around to face my ceiling.  Little glass figures drifted above me, faint in the moonlight from my window.  There were a lot of birds, I realized.  My favorite though was the blue star.  A gift from Hadiya when I turned eighteen.  It reflected the light is such nice ways.  Maybe tonight’s dreams would be better?

They were not.

♤♡◇♧◇♡♤

Blood pools from my body.  Rose vines dig into my skin.  A flower blooms from my throat.  I know the name of the creature in front of me, but I cannot speak.  It is an ugly thing.  A faceless face and a body made of too many arms.  It wields a pair of shears crafted from sinew and bone.  Tonight there is work.  I hate this next part.

The first cut is small.  A toe.  I scream but only petals escape.  A finger.  I cry honey and sap.  Another toe.  I see only red.  Sometimes the creature finds what it needs early.  Tonight, however, I have but one finger and one toe left.  The work is nearly finished, but the creature seems anxious.  It grabs my left hand and rips the skin off my final finger.  A bloody key remains.  This key is not for me.

A door is carved into my chest.  A handle staked through my heart.  The creature opens me up and clambers inside.  This dream always ends with my head on the ground.  For the first time I live.

The rose vines sneak back into the ground.  I take one step and fall.  Into the void I go.  My body smacks into water with a resounding crack.  I push myself up with shattered arms.  The ivory door is here tonight.  Taunting.  Beautiful.  I struggle to my broken feet.  My hand burns as I touch the door’s white surface.  Fire travels along my arm until I ignite.  I stumble into the water.  It does nothing to extinguish me.

♤♡◇♧◇♡♤

I opened my eyes.  A weak breath left me.  My mouth tasted of smoke.  Then the nausea hit.  I rushed to the bathroom and hovered over the toilet.  In seconds Lily was by my side holding my hair. 

“We’re you-” I gagged, “sleeping by my door?”

She rubbed slow circles around my back. “Obviously.”

The regret I felt only made the nausea grow.  We waited on the ground for a while before I found the strength to stand.  I glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror.  I looked thin.  And pale but that was no surprise.  The only color on my face were scattered freckles.  I held a hand out in front of me and flexed my fingers.  Still there.

“Can we make breakfast?” I asked Lily. “I-I need to do something.”

“Yeah of course.”  Her expression wavered between emotions I struggled to pick out. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yes.  I’m fine now.”  I said.

She lifted an accusing eyebrow.

“Seriously I am fine.  Just a bad dream.”

She set her hands on my shoulders.  “I’m here when you want to talk.  Always Phoenix.”

 I gave her a quick hug before escaping her embrace.  She rolled her eyes and followed me downstairs.  We made pancakes and eggs.  I did most of the cooking while Lily cleaned up my mess.  Marcus thudded down the stairs when I had finished the last pancake.

“Oh Phoenix you didn’t need to do that.”  He said.

I shrugged.  “I’m surprised neither of you burnt down the house.”

“Hey.  I’m not that bad of a cook.”  He scrubbed a hand through my hair.  “I did miss your food though.”

While he gorged himself on chocolate chip pancakes, Lily threw open the windows around the house and turned on the stereo.  I picked at my food.  Marcus cleared his throat and rolled two bottles at me.

“You take em.  Then I take em back.”  He asserted.  I swallowed my dose for the day without a word.  Muddled by meds.  Meds that muddle.  Marcus left the kitchen to go dress for work. 

“Alright folks let’s take a quick break from the tunes to hear what's happening in the area.  Melinda’s bakery is having a Friday blowout!  Come on down to 4th Street for a free cupcake with every purchase of two or more!”

“That doesn't sound like Nathan.  Is someone else hosting the eight AM radio?”  I asked Lily.

“Nathan quit last week.  The new host is named Chris I think?”  She took my plate to the sink.

“He sounds…”

“Corny?”

“Like he’s imitating a really bad transatlantic accent.”

“The county sheriff’s department has not issued any new statements on the murder of Reese Mayne at this time.  A vigil will be held later this week-”

Lily turned off the stereo.  I could not hide the shock on my face.  “Reese is dead?”

“Yeah.”  She picked at a spot on the counter.  “It was bad Phoenix.  You returning right after a murder is messed up.”

“Where did they find him?”

She hesitated for a second.  “Somewhere on Pear Street.”

“It happened by the school?”

She gave a small nod.  Reese Mayne.  He played football as a linebacker for the school.  In art class through the years he always sat by me for advice.  So much in one person just gone.  There was a morbid irony in that coming from me.

“Do they know who did it?”

She scoffed.  “Nope.  Not like the sheriff’s department was any use to begin with.”

Our conversation came to a halt when Marcus thundered through the house and out the front door.

“Love you bud!  Tell your friends hi for me!”  He called.

“He forgot his keys.”  Lily said.

“And his hat.”  I added.

He stumbled back inside seconds later cursing himself.  Lily and I both snickered.

Not soon after our friends arrived.  I hid in the living room.  Ezra and Hadiya waited while I took a moment to freak out.  There was no reason for me to be nervous.  No reason for my hands to be shaking.  I stopped pacing and turned around.

“Why blue?”  I blurted.  Hadiya looked surprised for a second.  Then she smiled.  Piercings dotted her face, bright in contrast to her skin.  Like stars in the night sky.

“I wanted to dye my locs green, for rebirth, but blue looked better.”

“Oh.”  Is all I thought to say.  She pressed something into my hand.  My necklace.

I cleared my throat.  “Thank you for holding on to it.”

“Thank you for trusting me with it.”  Hadiya backed away.  A tall boy waited behind her.  Olive skinned and broad shouldered. 

“Hi.”  His voice cracked.

“Hey Ezra.”  My voice came out whisper thin.  He engulfed me in a hug.  The day had barely begun and he already smelled like sweat.  Always the worker.

“Thank you for the paint.  And the brushes.”

“I tried to send you canvases too but the hospital said no.”  He pulled away and smiled at me sheepishly.

“The paint was enough.”  I turned toward Hadiya.  “Thank you for the candy.  The food there was terrible.”

She nodded her head.  And then they waited in silence.  Not awkward but not comfortable.  The hesitation and worry about what to say obvious in their expressions.

“Okay we are not doing this.”  Lily gestured randomly around herself.  “Everyone move to the back porch.”

Our home straddled the tree line.  One half nestled in the pines, and the other half facing out toward the endless miles of sagebrush and dry grass.  We all called it prairie but my biology teacher insisted the accurate term was sagebrush steppe.  From the porch I could look down at the entirety of Hassen.  The ever-decaying Sungold Trailer Park.  An abandoned church no one remembered the name of.  Caleb McGuire’s junkyard of vehicles.  All little pieces of humanity scarring the land.

“The Northacre Group bought out another property.”  Hadiya said from beside me.  She pointed toward a collection of log cabins less than a mile from here.

“No more Pines Motel?” I asked while knowing the answer.  Northacre had been purchasing and abandoning properties for years now.  Unsurprisingly the Hall family controlled the multinational investment firm.

“Yep.  I heard they offered the Whitmore’s a few million to sell.”

“A few million?” I said with disbelief.

“You know what I think?”  Ezra walked out the back door and draped himself over my shoulders.  My knees sagged under his weight.  “It was the only motel in the area.  No one will bother stopping here anymore.”

“Like anyone bothered stopping before.” Hadiya muttered.

“Your mom must be worried.”  I said to her.  She grunted out a curse and sat on one of the cheap plastic chairs we kept outside.

“Selling crystals and tarot isn’t exactly profitable in the middle of nowhere.”  She closed her eyes and twirled one of her locs between her fingers.  “Mom didn’t move here to make money anyway.  Hassen is strong in energy.  But you can’t pay bills with energy.”  She spat the last word with venom.

“I like your mom’s tarot readings.”  Ezra protested.  “She hasn’t been wrong yet.”

“You’re just too nice to hurt her feelings.  If my mom’s new age witchcraft worked she wouldn’t be crying about finances every night.”

“Who are we talking about?”  Lily set a bowl of fruit on the wooden table beside me.  Ezra dug in right away.

“Nothing.  Shits too depressing.”  Hadiya smacked Ezra’s hand away from the bowl and took a handful of berries.

“How is your dad’s ranch?”  I asked Ezra.  His expression hardened.

“Bad.  Everything’s bad here.  One of our hands was caught doing meth on the job.  And we were already short two men.  Idiot.”  Ezra took his hat off and set it on my head.  “Y’all are the only good things in this shithole.”

His head of hair stuck out in random tufts like crow feathers.  Even without his hat Ezra really did fit the part of a cowboy well in his flannel and blue jeans.  It made for an interesting sight compared to the rest of us.  Hadiya in her summer dress.  Lily and me in mismatched pastels.  Everything my sister wore fit her effortlessly.  I usually counted myself lucky to find a small enough shirt.

Lily sighed, “One more year then we’re out of here.”

“One more year.”  Hadiya repeated.

I could do that.  Graduate.  Only one more year.