Seven Devils
Chapter 1 / Dark Academia
"I don't know about you,
but I'm feeling 22 "
-Taylor Swift
New-Haven, Connecticut
March 22, 2009
The bar was packed. In all fairness, it was the last day of spring break, and being the only alcoholic safe haven near campus for miles, the turnout wasn't really quite so surprising. The creme de la creme of American academia, future alumni of one of the best universities in the country, licking salt off a red-head in a crop top. It was Olivia from Marlene's Behavioural Science class, and the girl, it seemed, preferred the practical approach.
"So I, like, told him do go fuck himself," a blonde said importantly, half-finished with her fifth cocktail. She was having trouble catching the straw with her mouth.
Marley nearly snorted, "Oh, did you now? Is that exactly how you said it?"
"I said, "Dear Mr. Dellibey, I don't give a flying fuck about this thesis," Tessa was slurring, her hazel eyes going every which way. Tessa sent her other friend Maddock a meaningful look, "So you can shove it right up your pale Irish ass and make it St. Patrick's Day."
"Nah, what she said was," Maddock cut in, holding his finger up in suspense, "Dear Mr.Dellibey, I'll do anything, and I mean anything, just please, please don't tell the Dean." His impression of Tessa was half desperate old Hollywood starlet, half anguished hooker.
Marlene erupted in drunken, overly loud laughter.
"I do not sound like that!" Tessa squealed, comically offended.
"Sure you do when you need something."
"I do not! Marls, tell him."
Marley looked between her friends over the rim of her cocktail glass, trying to hide behind the little umbrella. "I mean, he's not wrong."
Tess threw the both of them an offended glare, "Of, piss off!" she then glanced at her iPhone, and the look of betrayal was instantly replaced by that of elation, "Holy shit, Marls, it's almost midnight!" she yelled over the music, some Red Hot Chilli Pappers song that had everyone in the bar singing along. It smelled of cigarette smoke, booze and chilli fries, and Marlene was enjoying every second of it.
"Oh my God!" she squealed with equal excitement. Maddock handed her another shot, which she downed with not a second's hesitation.
"Hell yes!" Tess broke in drunken giggles and sauntered to the bar through the thick crowd of students, "Hey! Hey, Eddy," she called out to the handsome barman. Blue eyes, deliciously chilsled features and a smile that had every girl on campus swooning. He looked up at the waisted blonde with good-natured exasperation, amid pouring out shots for other customers, "Can you put on that song we talked about?"
Eddy sighed and filled a pint of bear for some college kid. Grad school, of course, "The things I do for you, Theresa," he shook his head, a shadow of a dimpled smile appearing on his face.
Tessa blew him a lewd kiss followed by a seductive wink. That would give any guy all kinds of sinful thoughts but made Eddy chuckle. Like Marley and Maddock, he knew the feisty blonde was all talk.
As soon as the familiar notes of the song filled the bar, Marlene cried out an exhilarating "Holy shit!" and started jumping up and down to Taylor Swift's "22".
"I don't know about you!" she screamed along and then turned to Tessa and Maddock, pointing a finger at them, "But I'm feeling 22! Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!" Thankfully, Maddock was drunk enough to dance with them, yelling out "22" with a fervour of a fourteen-year-old girl on one of Taylor Swift's tours. Marlene sang and screamed and laughed, cocktail splashing, hair flying around, bubbling with excitement and alcohol and just...happiness. Her excitement was so invigorating and infectious that soon everyone in the bar started cheering, yelling "Happy Birthday!" while Marley danced and gave drunken curtsies.
Maddock ordered more shots, twenty two of them, which at first, Eddy was kind of hesitant, but Tessa assured him that they could handle it. At least, she had high hopes for their alcohol tolerance after that one music festival in Nashville that Tess had dragged them to cause she was stalking some rising country star.
"Okay, eleven shots each, you two," she told Maddy and Marlene with a sneaky smile, "Let's see who wins."
"What do we get for that?" asked Maddock.
Marlene snorted, "Who cares!" and downed the first shot. Then the second, the third...She finished all of them in under a minute and threw her hands up when she was done. The win was followed by claps and cheers, which made Marley crave even more attention. With a feline smile that was so unlike her, she leaned over the bar closer to Eddy, "Care to give me some lime?"
The barman cocked a brow and gave her a piece of lime, blue eyes darkening in anticipation of what's to follow. And Marlene didn't disappoint. With a mischievous grin that was half — okey, maybe more than a half — alcohol and half her long-harboured dream, she put the slice of lime in Eddy's mouth, which he opened almost on command.
"Better," Marlene whispered and leaned closer. In one languid movement, she took the slice out of his mouth, brushing her lips against his. Tessa squealed, the crowed irrupted in whoops, and cheers. Marley gave Eddy a wink and threw away the peel with a mischievous smile. Cheeks slightly flushed, Eddy returned it, and they both laughed.
"A minute 'till midnight!" Tessa reminded everyone, eyes glued to her iPhone. In moments like these, Marlene realised how much she loved drunk people. Mostly, because when intoxicated, they were ready to cheer on everything if it meant they got to yell and drink and be complete idiots.
"Fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty three!" the crowd chanted with Tessa, "...fifty-seven, fifty-eight!"
Marlene's entire face hurt from laughing but she couldn't stop and kept dancing. Giddy, she turned to Eddy who was counting down with the crowd, and he looked back with that winsome, cocky, dimpled glory of a smile, "Fifty-eight, fifty-nine..."
"HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, MALREY!" Tessa yelled at the top of her lungs. Everyone raised their glasses and began clinking, the noise louder than the music. Marlene spilled a little of the drink on her yellow dress, and Tessa, the dutiful friend she was, grabbed the nearest napkin and started aggressively rubbing at her chest, which only made Marley laugh harder. She pushed Tess away and couldn't help but glance at Eddy again.
Instead of a flirty smile, though, there was a gaping hole, his entire face scorched, skin melting off. He stared back at her, a look in his eyes full of malice and snide.
The last thing Marlene saw were his eyes.
Pitch-black.
The next day
Marlene Ter-Gabrielyan wasn't an Olympic drinker. By far. However, that tiny detailed never discouraged her, for if there was one thing Marlene undoubtedly was, it was hopeful. Annoyingly so, even, if you asked her friend Maddock.
That was why after every night of drinking (which it would surprise you how many of those a month were needed in order to survive four years of college and now grad school), Marley hoped to peacefully fall asleep in her bed after finishing her night-time beauty routine. Yeah, that never happened. The best Marlene could actually hope for was brushing her teeth.
The moment she opened her eyes, or rather tried to because her mascara-covered eyelashes had almost glued together over the night, Marley found the world devoid of any hope. Her face felt hot, her temples pulsating with pain and her mouth felt dry and cottony. And something was vibrating.
I used to think maybe you love me, now baby I'm sure —
Yup, that was her ringtone.
Groaning and grunting like the weight of the entire world had suddenly fallen upon her scrawny shoulders, Marlene rolled onto her back and padded the bed for the phone. Thankfully, it happened to be in the nearest vicinity (under her ass, exactly), and Marley brought the wretched, noisy thing to her ear, "Yeah?"
There was a loud sigh on the other side and then, "Thank God!"
Marlene flinched from the sheer volume of her father's voice, "Not feeling really thankful right now..."
"Where have you been? Why haven't you picked up? Did something happen? Are you okay? I've been calling for hours, Marlene. I thought we'd agreed that you'd text me every two hours — "
"Dad," Marlene cut him off with all the force she had in her, which wasn't much, "I'm fine. I'm in my bedroom," she took a look around to make sure that was indeed the case. The huge Beatles poster, an ungodly amount of fairy lights, a poster of Gone with the Wind — yes, it was her humble introverted abode, "I was just about to go make myself some breakfast and — "
"What do you mean you're in your bedroom?"
Marlene's yawn morphed into a confused frown, "In whose bedroom did you expect me to be?"
"Don't you have classes today?"
"I..." she froze. Then looked at the pizza-clock on her nightstand. The breadsticks showed 11:30, "I'm gonna call you back!"
"Marl —"
Defying all laws of a hangover, Marley jumped out of bed in the same yellow dress that had some stains on it like an impressionist's canvas. She stormed into the bathroom of the apartment she shared with Tessa and found a little sticker on the mirror next to a lipstick kiss: "Beauty sleep is essential in your old age", it said. Fucking Tess.
Marlene brushed her teeth and the tangled mess that was her hair, splashed some cold water on her puffy face and swiped off the mascara smudges under her eyes. That was the best she could do in such a short amount of time, so the world and her Comparative Linguistics professor would just have to deal.
She grabbed a pair of pumps and jumped her way to the kitchen to get a granola bar while putting them on. Ripping the package with her teeth, Marley shoved the bar into her mouth, threw the laptop into her tote bag and grabbed a couple of books. She looked at the clock in the living room: 11:55.
"Fuck," Marley breathed and ran out of the apartment. She lurched to a halt in the foyer, though. Had she locked the door? Whatever, if they got robbed, it would be Tessa's fault for not waking her up. And so Marlene resumed her marathon. She thought she must've looked like one of those crazy joggers she usually met on her way to class. When she wasn't freaking late. Marlene was never late.
She was sprinting through campus like a woman possessed, surroundings blurring into mush — she'd forgotten her contacts, dammit. The body Marlene had been sheltering from any athletic activity for 22 years was not prepared for what the current torture. And so it was no wonder that in her hungover delirium, Marlene's Usain Bolt-worthy feat result in failure. That is to say, she literally ran into someone. And the books she was holding fell out of her hands and onto the ground.
"I'm so sorry," Marley said and crouched to collect her belongings, while gently muttering "fuck, fuck, fuck" under her breath.
The guy chuckled, squatting down next to her, "It's okay," he said, handing her some of the books. It would've been extremely romantic on any other day, but right now Marlene was too freaked out to fantasise. She put the books in her tote bag and finally looked up at the guy she'd assaulted, "Thank y —"
A shrill ripped out of Marlene's mouth instead as she fell back down, staring at the disfigured face in front of her. At his black eyes. The molten skin, the horrid darkness...
"Didn't your mama teach you it's rude to stare? Oh, wait a minute," the guy — the creature — pursed its lips in thought. Then it smiled, "She's dead."
Marlene squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that it was a sick hallucination, but he was right there, with his sharp teeth and burning skin as though stuck in torturous agony and yet completely unbothered by it. Speechless and horrified, she scampered to her feet and ran as fast as she could, resisting the urge to look back.
What the hell had she taken last night?
Marley entered the familiar building and hurried up the stairs to the auditorium. Her heart was thumping from the exercise and the image of the black-eyed creature, his voice still ringing in her ears. "She's dead." How did he — it — know that? Because it wasn't real, you idiot.
The old wooden doors of the auditorium were closed — little surprise there — and Marley only hoped that the screech wouldn't be too loud. Thankfully, at least that didn't go awry, and Marlene managed to slip in unnoticed. She took a seat next to a girl she'd never seen before — probably because Marley would usually sit in the front, the perfect teacher's pet that she was — and gave her a tight-lipped smile. The girl said nothing and continued to chew gum, her face expressionless. Marlene cleared her throat and opened the laptop, ready to follow the lecture.
It was the last semester of her first year in grad school, and Marley was excited. Now, excitement is not necessarily the first thing you would associate with school, but things worked very differently in the world of Marlene Eleonor Ter-Gabrielyan.
Her father was an renowned theologist and anthropologist Arthur Ter-Gabrielyan, a man with 3 PhD's, an acclaimed scholar whose works had been published in 37 languages around the world and, as it happened, the current head of the Folklore Mythology department at Harvard University.
That is to say, thirst for knowledge was in Marlene's blood. She loved seeing her father buried in books in his study, a cup of tea always by his side. When she was little, she would hop on his lap, and Arthur would tell her all kinds of stories he was researching — child-friendly versions of them, anyway — and show her beautiful illustrations of fairies and princesses, and kings. Although as Marlene grew up, she came to realise that folklore was much less fairytale and more blood, nudity and eating children, she still associated it with those peaceful evenings in her father's study, the smell of green jasmine tea and the crackle of the fireplace.
But as much as Marlene was fascinated by stories themselves, what interested her most was the manner in which they were told. The languages with which they had been weaved throughout centuries of cultural development. And so in high school, Marley had decided that she wanted to study Linguistics and major in old languages that were barely in use anymore. Tessa always found it endlessly amusing. "How do you say 'Do you want fries with that' in Middle English?" she'd say to which Marley would usually reply with a middle finger. Everyone knew what she'd be doing after graduation — follow in her father's footsteps.
"Now, if we look at a language, any Indo-European language belonging to, say, the Romance family," Professor Lomtov said from the dais below. Marlene stayed fairly oblivious to him, head stuck in her laptop, searching for the right file, "If we look at it from the diachronic perspective, what phonetic transformations would we find it has undergone over the corse of history?"
Marley's entire body was shaking from the previous encounter, thoughts scattered as she scoured the desktop for the right file. She really needed coffee. The front of the auditorium was engrossed in a heated discussion about Romance languages but Marlene was too busy shivering like a crack-addict.
At last, she found the file and double-clicked on it. Dozens of pages worth of notes popped up on her screen, and Marlene began a new paragraph, typing down the date of the lecture. "ASK THE HOT CURLY DUDE WITH A TATTOO FOR NOTES" Marley typed in brackets. She'd missed almost 30 minutes, after all, and there's no telling what could be in the quiz next week.
A sudden pain shot through her temples, and Marlene winced. Damn, she should've taken some Ibuprofen. She blew some air to calm her nerves and brought her fingers back to the keys. Yet the pain returned, only this time more acute.
"Are you okay?" the girl next to her asked, still unbothered but apparently trying to be considerate.
"Yeah, I'm — Ah," Marlene's hand shot to her head, a strange ringing filling her ears. Like a distant whispering of a million voices none if which was intelligible enough to make out.
"Hey — "
"Is everything alright up there?" Professor Lomtov asked, worried. So much for slipping in unnoticed.
Marlene brought herself to open her eyes and instantly wished she hadn't looked at the slightly plump, bearded face of her professor, because it wasn't what she saw.
What she saw was a horned monster with skin aflame and black, bottomless eyes, its mouth stretched in a sneer that showed razor-sharp teeth. Suppressing a scream that was clawing at her throat, Marlene looked at the fellow students. Everyone in the auditorium was staring at her: some with wonder and concern, others with annoyance and disgust. None of them were horrified though, which meant that none of them could see...
"I'm sorry, I —," Marlene mumbled and began throwing her things back in her tote back. She scurried to her feet and slowly retreated to the exit, legs trembling , "It's, I —"
"Miss Ter-Gabrielyan, what is the meaning of this?
Marlene stormed out, Professor Lomtov's voice dulled by the thick, oak doors of the auditorium. As soon as it was shut, she leaned against the wood and took a long, deep, calming breath. What the hell was going on with her? First the guy on campus, then her professor, and —
Eddy.
She remembered it down. The tequila shots, the kiss, the clock striking midnight...his black eyes. And his scorched face. The dimpled smile and — God, had she really kissed him? Marlene felt her eyes burning with unshed tears from the frustration and confusion. Was she going mad? It wasn't unheard of, her father had once told her that Felix — her grandfather — was a complete lunatic who was really into occult stuff and had killed himself because the spirits "told him to". Was this her crazy story that would be told around campus? "That weird girl who stormed out of the lecture because she thought her professor was a monster".
I'm walking on sunshine, O-o-oh, I'm walking on sunshine, O-o-oh, and I f —
"Yes?" Marlene greeted sharply.
"Wow, claws off, kitty woman," Maddock laughed in his usual carefree, please-expel-me-I-can't-do-this-anymore manner, "Where you at, Juliet?"
"Lomtov's lecture, I...stepped outside for a bit. Listen, I gotta go, or he'll make me list all the Semitic languages," she hoped he wouldn't notice how out of breath she sounded.
"Oh, yes, and we do not want that. Whatever the hell it is," Maddock muttered, "Call me later, 'k?"
"Sure thing. Now piss off," Marley hung up before he managed to come up with a witty retort. That little piece of normalcy helped her calm down a little, though. Marlene wiped away her tears, put on a pair of enormous headphones that cancelled out any noise and played the loudest music on her iPod. No ringing in her ears now. Bite that.
Velvet Underground's Femme Fatal playing on full volume, Marley strolled down to her favourite coffeeshop just outside of campus. Most students were too lazy to make the trip and settled for the cafeteria, but Marlene cherished her alone time too much. So she had chose the cozy piece of heaven that was "Sailor's" caffe. She had actually met the owner. He was an extremely nice man in his thirties who had opened the place after his daughter was born and named it after her. His family would come in once in a while, and Marley would chat with them a little, mostly playing peak-a-boo with their adorable toddler.
This time, however, she wanted to avoid all human contact and walked in with her eyes downcast. She mumbled her order to the barista: "Iced latte on coconut milk, no sugar, thank you. Keep the change", grabbed the drink as soon as it was ready and sought refuge in the very corner of the coffeeshop, huddled between soft cushions.
Marley took out her laptop and opened up the file with her thesis, hoping that work might distract her from the incessant array of bad thoughts. Plus, her scientific advisor had been e-mailing her about the promised fifteen pages for a week now, so she'd better get some work done. Yes, Marlene was continuously telling herself, staring at the blank page, that was a great idea. Skipping classes was nice, she should've done it more often.
Her head started to hurt again. Marley took a sip of her latte. Nice. Cold. Coconuty. Yum.
She began to type, "Culture influences behaviour by creating norms through context that is imbued with specific meaning and information about what is an appropriate way of thinking, feeling, behaving," another pang in her temples. Marlene let out a measured breath and continued, "Contexts have many different aspects such as time, place, interactants, content of activities or conversations, the reason why the inter —"
"But she's dead."
Marlene shut the laptop and finally looked up from the blue screen. She almost had a heart attack right there and then. What in the freaking hell was up with this blasted day?
"Yes?" Marley asked, trying to not sound as vexed as she felt. She lowered her headphones, dull notes of Jimi Hendrix's Angel still blasting from them. There was a freaking stranger sitting opposite her. Just sitting there. How long had he been sitting there?
"Hey, Marls," he smiled, deep green eyes glimmering with mirth. Well, at least he didn't look like the freaking Hatchet Man. God, she hated those movies.
Marley frowned. Then let out a measured breath to regain her zen. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with psycho stalkers. Not this morning. Nah-huh.
"Do I know you?"
The golden-maned stranger leaned back in his chair, "Strictly in the biblical sense."
Marlene stared at him, deadpan. Was that how guys in their thirties flirted? No wonder those obscure pick-up seminars for middle-aged men were so popular these days.
She sighed, "Listen, I appreciate your interest, but — "
"You think I'm trying to sex you up?" The stranger snorted and then laughed, turning around as if to see if anyone else found it as hilarious as he did.
Marlene blushed, "I wouldn't exactly put it like that —"
"Sweetie, if I was making I move, believe me, you'd know."
"Good for you, then," she said, sliding her laptop back into the tote back, and rose to leave.
But the green-eyed Tony Stark wouldn't have it.
"Come on, Marls, don't be like that."
She looked at him like he was loony. Which was most likely the case, "I barely know you, dude. In fact, I don't know you at all. Why am I keep talking to you?" she wondered out loud and reached for her headphones again.
"Because of my undeniable charm and the fact that you owe me your entire existence?"
She gawked at him, headphones forgotten, "Excuse me?"
"My name is Gabriel, archangel of my dad. I banged your great grandmother two thousand years ago. Prepare to die," he added in a sultry accent. Marlene just kept staring, at a complete loss. Gabriel smiled again, "Kidding, not gonna kill you. Just sit down, will you?"
Finally out of her stupor, Marlene breathed an incredulous laugh, "Yeah, no," she adjusted the tote strap on her shoulder and stood up again, "Great knowing ya, Gabriel, archangel of your dad." With that, she walked off, leaving the wannabe predator alone. The bells tinkled when Marlene opened the door and...
Stepped into a coffeeshop. One that definitely wasn't the cozy "Sailor" in New-Haven. No, "Sailor" was all about boats and rivers, this...There was a big, orange couch in the middle of the place, a coffee table and a green armchair, and an eerily familiar rug. It was like she stepped inside...
Marlene whipped around to look at the door, and there it was right on the window: two enormous cups of hot coffee and the sign that said "Central Perk". The coffeeshop was filled with the same faces Marley'd seen back in "Sailor", and there was the friendly barista she was sometimes rude to but tipped her well because she felt guilty.
"What the fuck?" Marlene whispered. Her bewildered remark was met with laughter. Marley looked around, up and down, left and right — where had it come from? Who was laughing? "Hey — " More laughter. She glared at the ceiling, "I didn't even say anything!" Laughter.
"Now will you sit down?"
Marley's burning glare flashed to the famous orange couch. But instead of Rachel, Monica and Ross she found the weird smiley dude eating a chocolate cake. He looked like he had been waiting here awhile before she realised what was happening.
"What the hell is happening?" Marlene demanded. Yes, she hadn't figured that out yet.
Gabriel grinned smugly, "Knew you'd like it. Thought the show was pretty meh myself, but check out that couch," he padded the soft velvet, asking her to sit down. When Marley hesitated, Gabriel gave her a 'come on, it's that couch' look, and she caved. It was pretty comfortable, "I did a pretty good job."
"At what?" Marlene asked. She'd run out of reasonable questions.
The invisible audience laughed again. Marley fumed silently.
"At making this whole thing happen, of course," Gabriel spread his arms proudly and send a huge piece of the cake into his mouth, "Now, to the topic. What's up with you today? Happy birthday, by the way."
Marley just sat there, speechless. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then took another look around to make sure it was actually happening. When she glanced at Gabriel, he gave her a reassuring, if not a bit patronising smile as if to say, "Yeah, take your time." Again, the annoying laughter.
"You...made this?" Marlene finally asked, gesturing at the entire coffeeshop.
Gabriel nodded, "I know. Impressive, right?"
"How?"
"I've told you, I'm an archangel," he replied casually and licked off some chocolate frosting off his pinky. The audience laughed. Again, "Don't you just love it when they do that?"
Marley narrowed her eyes at him, "No, you egomaniac. Turn it off."
"My, my, aren't you capricious," Gabriel muttered, throwing her a scandalised look. The audience began to laugh at the joke, but was quickly silenced by a mere snap of his fingers, "Happy now?"
"No," Marley snapped at him, even more mystified after that trick.
The archangel sighed in dramatic defeat, "Oh, well. Can't say I care. That thing I just did there? Bet it wasn't the strangest crap you've seen today." Marley visibly tensed at his words, a shadow of worry falling over her face. "What did you see?"
"I...h-how did you know that?" Marlene mumbled. A second later her eyes widened at the sudden realisation, "Was it you? Did you do it?"
"Listen, I do a lot of things," Gabriel said in a bored voice, "you gotta be more specific."
"Those...those things. W-with burning skin, and horns, and fangs, and eyes...those black, pitch-black eyes..." Marlene rambled on, petrified even thinking about it.
"Ah, that," the archangel nodded in understanding, lips pursed, "Yeah, no, that wasn't me. That was my brother."
"Your...your brother?" Marley repeated dumbly.
"Yeah, you guys know him," Gabriel devoured a particularly loaded piece of cake, "The great, big bully," he said with a full mouth. Marlene watched him with a mix of wonder and revulsion, and maybe a bit of envy. She had been craving chocolate all day, "Lucifer."
"L-Lucifer?" Marley asked, hoping that she hadn't heard it right, "As in the Devil? Satan? The original bad guy? The — "
Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Yeah, that one."
"So...the things I saw..." Marley trailed off.
"Demons."
"Demons?"
"Demons."
"Like actual...?"
Gabriel nodded, "Demons."
"As in..."
"Freaking demons."
Marlene stayed quiet for a moment while Gabriel ate the last of his chocolate cake. She was desperately trying to process that information but but found herself lacking the tools to do it. How did one even come to understand it let alone accept the fact that demons and, apparently, angels walked the earth? It wasn't fair, Marley thought. Her father spent three years assuring her that Santa wasn't real and now she had to come to terms with this? Her belief system was majorly screwed.
"Why can I see them and others can't? Why now?"
"All of those are great questions. But I can't answer them," Gabriel said, licking the last of the frosting from the spoon.
Marlene stared at him, confused and disheartened, "What?"
"I mean, I certainly could, I'm an archangel. But where's the fun in that, am I right? You know what would be fun though?" He quirked a mischievous brow, "If you asked your dad. Now that would be a riot."
"What does my father have to do with it?"
"Oh, where do I start? But don't be sad, Marls, fathers suck," he stressed the last word by pointing the spoon at her, "It's what they do."
"You're crazy," Marlene stood up from the legendary couch. That was her stop: the freaking wit's end, "I want to go. Take me back."
"Oh, I'll return you to that hipster dump," Gabriel huffed, "Just ask your daddy what happened on September 23, 1986. And if you see one of my bro's stormtroopers, do yourself a favour and run."
She didn't recognise the date at all. But before Marlene could ask what it meant, she was back in "Sailor'a" and Gabriel — nowhere to be seen.
𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐
Murkiness began to settle over suburban New-Haven as Marlene finally arrived at her apartment building. She would usually ride to campus on a bike, but hers had been stolen a week ago, and she was too lazy to go buy a new one. Well, that sure bit her in the ass. Now, Marlene felt like an idiot. A scared, confused, miserable idiot who hadn't eaten anything all day.
She trudged up the stairs to her apartment on the third floor and opened the door — Marley knew Tessa was home, and despite telling her to lock the door, Marley also knew that Tessa never listened. She walked in, only a martyred sigh to signal her arrival, and dropped her bag in the hallway. She needed food. Was that how zombies felt when they smelled human flesh? Now she felt like a hypocrite.
Marley walked into the kitchen and took out a pack of pop tarts from the lower shelf, because nutrients and quickly dropped them into the toaster. She heard the shower running, which explained the quiet: had Tessa been here, she would've talked Marley's ear off about her daily escapades. Honestly, that girl lived in a CW teen drama that was just on the verge of being cancelled if not for that one plot twist.
The water stopped running. Marlene put on a pot to make some green tea, "Hey, tea or coffee?" She yelled.
"Wine!" Tessa yelled back.
Marley rolled her eyes but still took out a bottle of white they had in the fridge and grabbed two glassed from the cupboard. What was that saying? "It is only alcoholism if you're drinking alone"? Whatever the saying was, Marlene was in dire need of a drink. Only one, though. Today's fiasco could never be repeated.
Sitting at her small kitchen table now and waiting for her poptarts, Marlene was able to fully appreciate the weirdness of that day. It seemed surreal to her now: those faces, the whispers in her head, the Damon Salvatore wannabe in "Sailor's"? It was so easy to tell herself that none of it was real now that Marlene was back in the warm embrace of normalcy.
Only she was pretty sure she hadn't dreamed any of it.
"Maddock was pissed at you," Marlene heard Tessa say as the blonde was no doubt checking herself out in the mirror in the living room.
Marley winced and took out her phone. A gazzillion messages from "Maddy", "Shit, I forgot to call him back."
"This goes on your permanent record," Tessa joked, her voice getting closer.
Marley snorted at one of his texts, "Get this," she tells Tess, "Fuck you for ignoring me. Also, the chick I banged in Cabo over the spring break is in my class. Wtf, she told me she was a junior in USC," Marlene all but cackled at her poor philandering friend's misfortune. Karma worked in mysterious ways, indeed.
"He'll never give up his sugar daddy dream, is he?" Tessa sighed, walking into the kitchen.
Marlene texted Maddock back with a bunch of over-the-top and absolutely unnecessary emojis (she loved to do that), a stupidly happy smile on her face, "He's more likely to find himself a sugar da — " Marley looked up at her roommate.
Tess was pouring herself a glass of wine, a towel wrapped around her head, wearing a cute pink pj set Marlene had got her for Chrismakkuh. But that wasn't what sent Marley into absolute stupor. It was her eyes. They weren't black. No, they were white, glazed over like milk glass. And her face...that wasn't the face of her best friend, her confidant, her sister. Marlene couldn't bear looking at her. How long had she been...that thing? How long had she pretended to be her friend?
"You okay?" Tessa asked.
And if you see one of my bro's stormtroopers, do yourself a favour and run.
"Hey," Tess sat down next to Marley and handed her a glass of wine, "Drink some to wash away all that weirdness."
Marlene tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Her heart was about to jump out of her chest — what had Gabriel meant? Surely, Tessa would never hurt her?
"So what's up with you today? Did you like my note? Honestly, didn't think you'd make it. You were so out of it yesterday," Tessa said, snacking on some leftover candy. They had that weird penis-shaped ball Maddock had brought from Greece. Everyone agreed it was beyond strange, and yet Marlene and Tessa had decided make a centrepiece and fill it with all kinds of junk food.
"Y-yeah, that was pretty...crazy."
"And you kissed Eddy."
Did you know he was a monster, Tessa? Like you?
Marley stood up, barely able to keep her legs from shaking, and strolled up to the toaster, feigning great concern over the wellbeing of her poptarts.
"I know why you can't look at me," Tessa spoke behind her. Her voice was somehow different, though. Deeper, cockier, more malicious, "Come on, Marlene, turn around. Don't you want to gossip? Have some wine, talk some...shit? Is that how you say it?" her laughter was drained with contempt and superiority. There wasn't a thing left of Tessa in there. Of the girl who snorted out Cheerios when Maddock was telling one of his lewd stories, the girl who always demanded hot fries at McDonald's when they served them soggy, the girl who liked her cheese pizza with marshmallow on top.
Marlene turned to face her. She didn't know what the monster inside Tessa had done, but suddenly the thing in front of her looked like her friend again. Round hazel eyes, a nose that was longer than Tessa would've liked with a splatter of freckles from their tanning sprees in the park.
"What's wrong, Marls?" It even sounded like her again, "Come on, don't stare at me like that. Is it my nose? Uh, I swear, someday I'll be so desperate for a nose job I'll ask Maddock to be my sugar daddy. Mark my words."
Marlene's eyes welled up with tears. They were slowly rolling down her cheeks as she stared at Tessa's bright, guileless face. Could it still be her? You've seen its real face. Don't let it fool you.
"Do yourself a favour and run".
"You're not Tessa," Marlene gritted on, hand curling around the toaster.
"Oh my," the creature gasped in mock surprise, "However could you tell?" It rose from the table and slithered up to Marley, graceful and lithe, "How delicious you are, little girl. Tell me, what should I do to you?"
"How about tell me what the hell you want?" Marlene managed to stammer out, leaning back against the counter the closer "Tessa" came.
"No, that's no fun. He told me I could have my fun," the creature whispered and brought its hand to her face. Marley shuddered from disgust, "Oh, how I'd love to peel off this beautiful skin and then torture every single one of those nerves until you're in so much pain, your heart simply...stops. And then," she leaned even closer. Marlene tightened her grip on the toaster, "I'd rip it out of your ribcage...and devour it."
"Yeah?" Marlene breathed out, "Well, if you're so hungry," she looked straight into her friend's soulless eyes, "Why don't you have some pop tarts, you bitch."
She gripped the toaster and with every single shred of power she had in her ridiculously untoned muscles punched "Tessa" in the face, sending her reeling. Marlene supposed it was more the element of surprise rather than her staggering newfound strength, but it wasn't the time to make guesses. While the creature was still down, Marlene ran out of the kitchen, grabbed her bag that she had thankfully left in the hallway and stormed out of the apartment.
She was close to falling down the stairs a couple of times, but the fear of what might be chasing her gave her a suddenly decent sense of coordination. Marlene ran and didn't look back once, afraid that even a second's hesitation would end in her heart eaten by the white-eyed...demon. Demon.
She hurried towards the parking lot, fumbling for the car keys in her bag. Good thing she was always too forgetful and lazy to take them out. The shabby red Toyota bleeped in greeting, and Marlene quickly hopped into the driver's seat, stuck the key into the ignition switch and prayed to all Gods who would listen for the car to start.
Marley had always considered herself an agnostic of sorts, but when she heard the glorious purr of the engine, it was like Santa was real all over again. She sped off the parking lot and away from the apartment building.
Marlene could swear she saw a blur of pink in the rearview mirror.