First thing I wanted to do when I heard what Mugin said; laugh. The second thing? Run.
I don’t know if Mugin was fooling me or was cracking up inside his mind when he told me this. I don’t know if he’s just joking around and all, but a part of me wished he was. Okay, scratch that, I wished he was. I was expecting he’ll say, “GAHAHA! You should’ve seen the look on your face!” But no. There isn’t any laughing or smirking or snickering that happened. What’s present was the silence and the beating of my heart.
But for one, I stifled a laugh.
“Okay, that’s a nice joke. Now, can we get breakfast? I’m starvi—”
“I’m telling you the truth.” Said Mugin, cutting me off. His words was cold as ice, and I had no choice but to listen. “Enlil.. Baal.. whoever he is, he’s looking for someone. A host. A body to settle in.”
I blinked. Enlil? Baal? Who was that? See, I’m not fond of this names, considering if those are actually names. But he looks like he’s talking about someone or something important than my starvation for some falafel right now.
I didn’t understand anything at all, but I kept listening, waiting for him to say that this was all a prank and he’s going to treat me to a resto near A–East later. I looked deep into his eyes, and I saw something I’ve never seen in Mugin’s eyes before (okay, not exactly ’seen’ but I felt it) – fear. He’s afraid, and he looks afraid, which rarely happened. It didn’t occur to me that he was shaking. From time to time he would shift on his feet and turn his head sideways like someone was listening, which was completely impossible because we were just three stray dudes talking to each other about absolute weirdness.
“And it’s not only him who’s hunting for you now, also some of Enki’s minions. They’ll devour you if you don’t go somewhere safe.”
I was losing it. “Okay, hold up. Sorry. Who’s Enlil? Who’s Enki? What minions? And devour? Like eat? Like.. eat me?”
My head’s spinning with all this talk. And if you add my hunger, I can say that I might die. I looked up, trying to set my vision straight. Did I mention that my head’s literally spinning? Okay, wait, not literally. What I was saying was, I was beginning to become dizzy. See? This is what happens when you have no idea what your friends are talking about.
I began to ask myself some questions like a normal human being would do. If this is true, and Mugin and Quil isn’t fooling me (which was pretty impossible) why would those things come to me? A poor dude in a jacket living on a sleeping bag? Why not those peeps who says that they’re some kind of an exorcist or something? Why a stranger named Cain Roneve that’s been abandoned by his family? It was ridiculous.
“I guess you shouldn’t say their names often,” Said Quil, who has been quiet the whole time.
“Who?” I asked, scrunching my eyebrows.
“The first one that you asked, Baal,” Quil leaned forward, cupping the side of his mouth with his free hand. “He’s Beelzebub. Ever heard of him? His real name is Enlil or Baal. One of the gods of Hell,” Quil answered like he was talking about that I was losing some falafels and not about pretty little Gods of blah blah blah.
I groaned. “Lovely.”
“He’s real, Cain. And so is Enki. Mortals call Satan. The Devil.” He pushed. “But, his interest in you is not really that—”
“Oh, no,” I chuckled. I couldn’t help it anymore. I threw my head back while laughing. Hard. “Man, I can’t believe that you two would do all this effort for a joke. Okay, okay, it’s very much appreciated. This was a cool talk. See you at Ryhan’s.”
I started to turn my back on them, still laughing hard. That was the best talk I’ve had for a while. It’s been a while since I laughed this much. It was the most stupid things I’ve heard my whole life. Enki? Enlill? What was Quil trying to tell me? That actual demons exists?
“Take another step and you’re scent will scatter all around Phoenix. You wouldn’t like it.” Said Quil, his voice firm and serious. He said it like it was supposed to shackle me.
I turned around, the smile on my face gone. I scrunched my forehead. “S’cuse me?”
Look, I knew from the start that they’re a bunch of weirdos but this is getting out of hand. What did he just said? My scent will scatter all around Phoenix? It sounded wrong in all levels. Also, I don’t think that will be a good idea. If ever my smell would scatter all around Phoenix, I wanted to smell like pancakes, not like shit.
“Once Enki’s minions gets hold of your scent, they will hunt you,” It was Mugin who said that. “You should come with us, Cain. We only know one safe place for you here. Your uncle’s house.”
I glared at him. “It was a nice joke at first, I swear, but this is getting stupid. And I will never ever go to my uncle,” I said. “I know you know why I can’t.”
Scenarios played inside my head like an old film. The way my uncle Fernan threw me out of his mansion, and the way that my mother told me that I should never to them for help. It drove me angry once again. I was trying to keep the memory low, was trying to not remember them, but here’s Mugin and Quil telling me that I should crawl back to my uncle wasn’t helping at all.
It made me angry. This time, not only at what Mugin and Quil said, but also at them.
Quil’s face was pleading. “Please, Cain. Your uncle will know what to do.”
“No, he won’t,” I deadpanned. “He never will.”
It was the end of this conversation and I knew it. I don’t care if my scent would scatter all around Phoenix (if ever it’s true) they can go sniff my muddy and fishy scent and all they want. I was never the one who will complain.
From behind me, Quil said something that I know I should listen and take note, but I was too stubborn to listen and turn around. The topic about my uncle brought back the dying fire of anger inside of me. It was years since I heard about him, and I was even on the edge of forgetting about it all because I was caught up with my very thrilling and smelly life as a thief and a poor kid. It was weird, but I was happy.
I got used of being kicked every morning, steal some money and food, smooth talk with some food–chain vendors and find another spot to sleep when the night comes. I felt like home, even though I was practically homeless. (Yeah, funny. Cool, cool.)
Thing is, I would rather be on the streets playing tag with the cops than crawl back to my family and be treated like a dog.
I walked away from them until I was literally off the crossing. I found myself by the bridge of some kind of park. There, I stopped. The people passing me were looking at me weirdly, as always. Well, it’s not everytime you can see a seventeen–year old boy looking at the frozen river by the bridge, wearing nothing but puffed jacker and ragged jeans while carrying nothing but a sleeping bag in winter.
Soon enough, my mind wasn’t on the frozen river anymore. It was on the things about what Quil and Mugin said. The words “Enki” and “Enlil” kept playing in my head like a broken record. And the things about spirits hunting me to get control of my body was driving me crazy. It all seemed unreal, and I want to say that it was unreal but the look on Quil and Mugin’s faces held me back. The fear in their eyes was genuine.
It frightened me.
But... I looked around to see if some kind of a monster or something was snooping it’s nose around me, to see if something unusual was happening but, I saw none. Just the normal routine of Phoenix. The city was buzzing with people and the lights were bright. Nothing unusual at all.
I shrugged at no one in particular. Maybe Quil and Mugin was just giving theirselves a good time by joking and fooling around. Maybe I really shouldn’t need to get frightened by something I, myself, don’t believe.
I started to get back to my senses and snorted at myself. I mean, Gods of the Underworld? Of Hell? Why did I even felt like I wanted to bolt right up when Mugin told me that spirits are chasing me? It was stupid. What kind of BS was that? Maybe if they tried to tell it to some creepy, religious weirdo, it will work better.
I stood there by the bridge, laughing by myself. Behind me, I can feel the people’s eyes burning on my back.
When I made up my mind that it was all a joke, I comtinued to walk towards West Ave, where the most amazing falafel can be found. It was also the store where my friend was working for.
The store was small, but it was packed with people. Not because of its awesome falafel, but because of my friend. Stanley Rimario.
This dude has six–pack abs (according to the girls that gossips for their hobby), mascular built and an overall good appearance. He has this amber colored eyes that would literally make all the ladies go swoon and all. From what I can remember, he’s pretty successful, too. At his young age, he’s already running his own business with his father as a mentor and guide.
And then there was me. I’m normal looking (if I can say), with jaw–lenght brown hair that was never tidied up—partly because I was too lazy, green, tired-looking eyes that I actually find weird, and always has this worn out look on my face. I was kind of slender for a guy, but I never actually wished for six–pack and all. I was happy with my appearance.
I managed to slip through the crowd to the counter. There, Stanley was making some falafel, wearing his brightly-colored uniform. He had his back on me so I had to get his attention. It will be such a hassle if I try to squeeze myself right into the crowd in front of him.
“Ayo, Stanley!” I called out cheerfully, like nothing weird happened minutes ago.
He turned around, and when he saw me, a slight friendly smile crept on his lips. “Hey, Cain. What’s up?”
I chuckled lightly then sat on one of the chairs. “Nothing much,” I lied. “What about you? Plenty of customers today, huh?”
He sighed then looked around with a small and tired smile on his face. “Yeah. But it’s a good thing. I was told that this chain was considered as a dump before. But, look at it now. Full of people. It makes me smile...” he trailed off. “Even though I’m completely annoyed by those girls who won’t even order falafel but has the nerve to waste some space.”
I turned around to look where he’s staring at. He’s staring at a bunch of blonde and tanned girls bunched up in two tables. They’re all giggling and making some squeeling noises, especially when they noticed that Stanley was looking at them. Wow, talk about big hoe energy.
I was shocked and ridiculed. They all look the same. The blond hair. The tanned skin. And even the make up. I cringed. Stanley must be having a hard time finding out who was flirting with him and not.
I looked at Stanley, a laugh in my eyes. “They all look the same.”
Stanley shrugged then chuckled. He continued working his spatula on the frying pan while talking. “Oh, well. It’s fine, I guess. They... They make the whole chain lively and all.”
We shared a look and laughed.
“Anyway, I’m guessing some falafel brought you here?” Stanley asked when he got the chance. He had this knowing look in his eyes.
“You know me.”
“’Course. Well, I got some extra here. You can have it.”
I can feel the wide smile on my face, which kind of hurt. I’m never the type that will go around, smiling and shit. Stanley’s falafel was one of the reasons why I still don’t wanna die yet. He packed three falafel inside a paper container with the tag of the chain called “Peerios”. Looking at the Peerios box almost made me forgot about all the weirdness earlier with Quil and Mugin. Almost.
He handed it to me with a friendly smile on his face and if course, I accepted it like it was a gift from the gods. I wanted to cry when my fingers felt the warm edge of the Peerios paper box. The sensation was heavenly, especially in this cold morning.
“Hey, Cain, thanks for coming by. You’re the first person I had a decent talk with,” Said Stanley. “And say hi to Quil and Mugin for me. It was eons ago since I saw them two.”
I stared at Stanley. I scratched my jaw then gave out a light laugh. “Yeah, ’course. Thank you for this, by the way. You’re my saviour.”
I don’t know if I can face Quil or Mugin right now. Considering the things that happened earlier, neither of us can face each other right now, at least that’s what I think. The thing is, they were literally spitting nonsensical things to me, and it was getting into my nerves. Not them, the words. Especially when Quil and Mugin told me that my uncle Fernan would know what to do.
But still, I can’t help but to wonder what my uncle Fernan had to do with all of this, and why would Quil and Mugin would say such a thing. It simply didn’t make any sense to me.
When I left Peerios, I stopped by a bench by the tree in the free lot near the park where I just came from earlier, and sat there. It’s where I usually eat if I feel like I wanted to be alone. And I did. Usually, I would eat with the other stray and abandoned kids near the plaza, but I wasn’t feeling any well to go eat with kids. Besides, I just eat with them because I can take advantage of them. Also, I needed some time to think.
I was muching on my falafel while thinking about “if I was literally eaten by Enki’s minions, would they like how I taste?” It was a ridiculous thought, but I doubt they’ll like me. And Enlil or Baal or whoever, I wonder who was that. The first time I heard it, I thought about the man who’s selling some friendship bracelet at the crossing, because his name was “Oto.” I thought Mugin wanted to tell me that Oto wanted my body.
The thought was creepy. Thinking about an old man selling tribal bracelets chasing you because he wants to take over your body was simply disturbing. I wanted to spit the falafel when I thought about Oto’s rotten and in complete set of teeth. I thought about that teeth biting on me.
I reminded myself to not think of bracelets and the name Oto.
I shook my head to get the thoughts out of my head and just continue to eat my falafel peacefully. I should really forget about Quil and Mugin’s stories and get on with my life again.
I started to lay out the plans I had this day inside my head. After I finish this falafel, I should go to Ryhan. Ryhan was this big and burly guy that was my age living in a small house at an abandoned lot at the other side of Phoenix. He has all the things that a guy like me need; money. But of course, I can’t get it without doing him some favors.
Other dudes like me—stray and poor and all—go to him to get some extra income, and most of them call Ryhan “big boss.” I mean, if his physical profile isn’t enough, you can base on the way the other kids depended on him when it comes to some moolah.
And... After I get some moohal from Ryhan, maybe I’ll go do another round around the city and find a spot to spend the night. Then, I’ll repeat the process.
Repeat the process. Thinking about it made my shoulders slump and my appetite go downhill. Thinking about how I can never escape the life I have right now depressed ny emotions. Spinning and spinning ans spinning. That’s my life’s like. It made me hopeless.
Then, I realized that thinking about it won’t help me. I snorted. Guess I’ll die skinny and poor.
Yeah, I know. You guys would think about “why not get some job or something?” Yeah, like I haven’t tried that. I spent the first five years of being a poor kid by finding jobs. But no one accepted me, and I don’t know why. They simply wouldn’t. I even got to the point where I applied to be a street cleaner and a bathroom tube cleaner. And guess what? I was rejected. Like, what the hell? Who the hell would reject a person who’s only trying to be a bathroom tube cleaner?
Believe me, I tried to apply to hundreds of job, and no luck was found. That’s where I finally found Ryhan.
It was dusk when I reached the alley way where Ryhan’s ’house’ was located. The place was damp and dark, and the only noise I can hear wad the faint boom of the speakers from the other side of rhe alley where a bar can be found. My boots was starting to get uncomfortable on my skin and my toes, and my under sweater was clinging to my skin in an uncomfortable way.
Ugh, alleyways are the worst. This is where the rest of the smelly and stupid outlaws stay. Hey, I must be some kind of dude who lives in the streets and all that but I have a decent side, too. Alleys are the place where you can find useless thugs that felt like they own the whole damn world with nothing but their muscle, guns and non-functional brains.
The gang that chased my *** last night? Some of its members are from here, working for Ryhan. You guys were probably thinking, “Well, Cain, that’s pretty dumb!” Or “Maybe that’s really how you died and you lied to us in the first part.”
Right. Like it wouldn’t be dumber if you stick to scavenging foods in garbages instead of going right into your enemies lair for a few cash and live for another day.
I kept walking until I found the little hole right in the bottom of the alleyway that served as the secret entrance to Ryhan’s place. This hole was made with force, if you notice the little cracks and bumps on it. I can almost imagine Ryhan using a hammer to make this whole. Or maybe by just his fist.
I had second thoughts when I realized I had to squeeze in it, and do whatever I can do to fit inside a hole that was the size of two basketballs.
Ryhan was difficult to find this way. Like literally difficul this way. I looked at myself then wondered if I could fit in that hole that looked smaller than my future. Then, I realized that complaining inside my head will do nothing at all. Whatever. Even if I can fit in or not, I needed to see Ryhan, let him do whatever he wants me to do and get my cash. It’s that simple.
So, I started to take position like a turtle, heads in, eyes out. That made sense? No? Good. And I started to crawl. I felt the damp ground and the cold–snow. I cringed. It was too cold, and I wanted to stand up immedietly. The skin on my palms felt like it was slowly burning.
Enduring the cold a a little longer, I crawled until I passed the hole. When I looked down, the snow–covered ground was nowhere in sight. Instead, it was replaced with black cement, smooth and cold, but in a good way. I knew I was in Ryhan’s quarters. Well, the outside of his quarters anyway, because the main door was was guarded with two persons.
I felt like Alice in Wonderland who just entered the small door, because my surroundings immedietly changed. The narrow path where the hole was located was now wide as a long table. The place wasn’t pretty, because it was covered with black linings that I figured as countless cracks, but it was wide enough for one door...
“Ooh, a visitor.”
And two guards.
I wanted to bolt right up when I saw the two guards. The other one was a girl, and the other was a guy. They were both wearing mask so I can only see their dark eyes, but underneath their masks, I can tell that they were smirking at me, because they’re eyes were lit up.
Oh, and did I tell you guys why I wanted to bolt right up? Well, it won’t take a genius to tell that these two were part of the gang that chased me last night. They had the same symbol of the sun on etched on the skin of their foreheads. I was actually pretty threatened.
But, instead, I let out a bark of laughter.
“Well, if it isn’t you guys!” I said as soon as I got up on my knees, brushing my palms together. “What’s up?” I wanted to smack myself to death.
The both of them shared a dark look then laughed. Of course, me being me, I just laughed along like something was actually funny besides their feiry red hair. It wasn’t the natural red color of the hair, it was red–red. And it hurts to look. They both look like clowns.
Then, they stopped, giving me the dead–eye look, and I caught myself laughing. If my horrible luck wasn’t enough, I had to deal with my embarassment. I don’t know if the world hates me or what. I coughed, then scratched the back of my head, feeling some bugs there. I need a monkey right now. My head was itching.
“So, um... I kinda need to speak with Ryhan, you know?” I muttered then followed up an awkward chuckle.
They both looked at each other again then shared a laugh again. This time, they’re holding their stomachs like I was the most ridiculous thing that happened their entire life. I mean, hey, I know I’m a laughsack for almost everyone,, but, they didn’t have to do it in front of me when all I’m thinking about is how I can escape them fast.
It made me sad. Not.
One of them, the guy, removed his mask then laughed in another set of breaths. He looked exactly how I imagined him to be. He had wide jaw like he can actually kill someone using it, and his lips were too thin to suit the shape of his face. He looked like an empty wide plate with eyes, crooked nose and thin lips. All I can actually think about when I look at him was a blob fish with thin lips. It was weird, but it suited him.
He had piercings all over his lips and nose, so it made him look weirder. Think about a blob fish with pierces, you’ll know what I’m talking about.
Finally, his laughter stopped. It was the sound of a dying engine. When he took a deep breath, the dead look on his face replaced the trails of his previous laughter.
“Well, well, Cain, isn’t it?” He asked in a deep, revving tone. He lifted his chin, looking down at me. “What brought you here?”
“Oh. Yeah, I was kinda hoping that I could speak to Ryhan. You know, the usual thing,” I managed to sound like I actually still have my composure.
He looked at his girl companion then nodded like he was actually considering. Hope bloomed into me, then I realized that I really shouldn’t be hoping for anything. Any second now, he might take out his gun and shoot me.
“Ah, right,” he said. “We don’t know if boss is here. Maybe he’s gone out.”
Like hell he is, I wanted to say. But of course I can’t. They’ll chop me to pieces if I did. Not like I won’t fight them if they did. All I need to do was to swing my– hold up. Hold up. Where’s my sleeping bag?
My mind replayed all the things I did this morning. The jokes from Quil and Mugin. The crowded Peerios. The bench where I stopped to eat falafels. My mind stopped on the scene where I sat on the bench. I wanted to hit myself, spot on. I left my sleeping bag on a damn bench, and all I could do now—if ever these two tried to kill me—is to run.
Yeah, I know. You guys were probably thinking, “Well, Cain, you’re pretty dumb. I thought you weren’t that oblivious? And besides, how the hell are you supposed to forget that a sleeping bag wasn’t on your back anymore?” Or “Grip yourself, loser. No one can fight with a sleeping bag.”
All I wanted to say is, that sleeping bag was a part of my body. My body was familiar with it’s presence, so I barely notice it’s weight on my back.
Now I’m a weaponless and sleeping bag–less stray dude in puffed clothes. The world is trying to kill me.
“But, I do have a task for you,” The burly guard continued, his voice growing dark and deep.
I looked up at the guy, and you can bet by a million falafel that I wanted to destroy all the walls surrounding me, run and hopefully wish that this was all a dream. And I did. I did wish that this was all a dream because I had this horrible feeling that I would die if it isn’t. I wanted to curse in a million language, to run, to do anything besides standing like a stone as I saw the guy when I looked up at him.
A lump in my throat has formed, and I don’t know of I wanted to cry or scream or throw up in fear.
The who I talked to before remembering that I felt my sleeping bag on the bench wasn’t there anymore. Yes, it was still the guy – the figure, the clothes and all – but there’s a horrifying change.
I don’t know if I was hallucinating from eating too much falafel or I really just lacked sleep, but my eyes wasn’t lying to me. I even rubbed my eyes, wishing that if I did, the unusual and veru weird thing that I was seeing would go poof, buh–bye. And when I did, none of it worked, and none of my wishes came true.
“Holy...”
I muttered some curses from different languages when I realized that this isn’t some kind of an illusion or a side effect of eating too much falafel.
I’m actually, actually, actually seeing this guy’s head become like a demon’s. You know the typical look of the demons illustrated in some kind of Christian and Catholic book. Red and black eyes, crooked nose, nasty red and burnt skin and long horns
The guy – the guard, and a gang member – has grown horns on his forehead. It’s not long, not short, but it looked really unreal. I realized that it was flickering. Appearing and disappearing.
His eyes has gone red, with the color of lava on the side of his pupils. It looked like a pair of red stones that glowed with feiry color. I realized that it was burning with a soft glow of fire, but it was to bright it hurted my eyes. It was horrifying to look at. His lips had turned into the color of charcoal, and his teeth was rotten black, maggots crawling all over his lip and peeking from inside his mouth. His whole face started to turn beet red, like all of his blood had stayed on his face. Then, it turned redder, redder until his skin turned into the color of blood.
It looked like it was burning and boiling. His flesh started to look like meat that’s been exposed on some enormous amount of heat, it started to peel. I imagined how the meat of a chicken would just start to peel off the bone if it was boiled too much. That’s how the skin on his face looked like.
His face. His face had started to peel.
My knees began the wobble, and I can feel the blood drain from my face. The cold air stung my eyes because I was staring eye widened at the male guard. I staggered backwards, the slow feeling of fear starting to course through my veins. I wanted to say something – no, I wanted to scream ’til my lungs give out. I wanted to scream, to spill some of my fear, confusion and the horrible feeling of death by doing so.
But instead, I stood there like an idiot, to stunned and frightened to move.
The guard—if I still consider him as a guard—started to crack his neck, snarling or maybe even smiling at me. When he tilted his head, I saw a portion of his skull. He was now bald, the half of his face burnt off. He looked horrible, and his left eyeball became too big to look at.
Then, my knees gave out. I can no longer feel them. I can no longer feel my body. I was just staring at him in horror. I was on the ground, facing a half–skeleton half–whatever.
Then, he laughed. His hideous laughter laughter filled the whole room. I can feel how my eats started to literally bleed. His laugh was deep, and raspy, but it had this screeching quality. It wasn’t a good laugh, no better than his face.
“You know...” he—no, it started off. “I could’ve chosen a different look, but I liked your reaction.” His voice was just like his previous voice, but it was much, much horrible.
“I don’t like this man. He’s not a good host,” He said, sounding disappointed while looking at his palms.
“What.. what are you?” I said, trying to act brave and all that, but it came out as a small whimper.
“Why, I don’t know yet,” He said, and it was followed by a chuckle. It sounded hollow and frightening. Then, he turned serious. His serious look was much more horrifying than the previous impression he left to me. “But I will once I deliver you and your soul to my master.”
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