Have you ever wanted to make love to a guy and shove him out of a plate glass window at the same time? Well, that’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. Just a few minutes ago, Marcus asked me to leave the villa, but I didn’t make a scene or cry. I just did what he asked.
Now, outside on the patio, I start walking down the road that leads to town. Rage catches up to me and says he has to take me to back to New York. I don’t pay him any attention.
My mind is racing.
On one hand, I saw the pain Marcus was in and how hard it was for him to send me away.
And yes, I want to help him and take some of the tension away from him. On the other hand, the guy I love just threw me out of his damn villa. Not only that, he tossed me out of the mission like I didn’t matter. And you know what, I don’t care how hard it was for him, how dare he send me away?
“Human chick, we need to get airborne,” Rage says again.
“I FUCKING HATE HIM!!!” I blare to the whole countryside. My outburst takes Rage by surprise.
“Hey, human, calm down,” he replies, not sure what else to say.
“Why? Why do I always do this to myself? Every time I think Marcus and I can finally be together, he does something asinine to keep us apart. What the hell is wrong with him?” I demand.
Rage looks back at me with a blank expression. I don’t care. I just continue to vent and scream at him, like he is the one who has wronged me.
“I’m willing to fight everyone so Marcus and I can stay together. I’ll take on both ‘Cruella/Bianca’ and my sadistic, alcoholic father, but I won’t fight Marcus to be with Marcus. That’s crazy.”
“Okay but—”
“--ARGH!!!” I scream into the night sky.
Now, beyond furious, I kick the nearest tree to me. Naturally, the tree is stronger than me and remains unharmed. Meanwhile, my foot throbs in pain.
“Human--” Rage starts.
“—What is so hard about loving someone? Why can’t Marcus just get it?” I beg.
“Human we have to—”
“—I am so over this whole ‘star crossed lovers’ bullshit!”
“Human—”
“—That is not my name! We’ve been on the same team for weeks now, I really would appreciate it if you would call me by my damn name!”
“Fine, I will. Emmy--” Rage says carefully.
“--What?”
“Let’s go,” he orders.
“Rage, I don’t want to go home.”
“Who said anything about home?” He replies mischievously.
He takes my hand and we go off into the sky. Instead of taking me back to New York, Rage takes me to the south side of Chicago. We are surrounded by loud music, abandoned buildings and the sketchiest looking beings I’ve ever seen.
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
“I thought you might like to go to a Demon bar; best place when you’re pissed,” Rage replies.
He signals for me to follow him across the street to a small red door in between two industrial size trash bins. There is a neon sign above the door that reads, “Damned.”
“Seriously?” I ask.
“Or I could take you home, you could eat ice cream, cry and watch “The Notebook” like a million times,” he snipes.
“I don’t do that,” I challenge.
He looks at me as if to say he knows I’m lying.
“Okay, I maybe I do…but I don’t want to be here,” I admit.
“You’re right, maybe this was a bad idea,” he replies.
We start to head back across the street and away from the club.
“What do they do in there?” I ask, turning to look back at the red door.
“Everything,” Rage replies, with a slight darkness to his tone.
Judging from the atmosphere of the block we’re on, the club probably contains a bunch of low lifes and Demons.
Yes, on the other side of the red door, are a ton of beings that don’t have a care in theworld. They don’t follow Omnis’ rules. They don’t care what Paras think. And they aretoo wild; too carefree to give a damn about First Guardians…
“Rage, wait, let’s go in.”
When we enter, the first thing we see is a mammoth sized Demon, blocking our path. He has raven wings and eyes like pools of blood. He signals for Rage to look up at the sign above the entryway.
“We are not responsible for any humans left unattended.”
Rage says he’s fine with that. The Demon lets us pass. I expected the club to be small, judging by the narrow entrance. But I was wrong. The club has three huge circular platforms that are staggered upward. There are no stairs to connect the platforms to each other. If you want to go from one platform to the next, you have to fly up there.
Each platform holds hundreds of Demons, Sellers, and even Angels. The rock music blares from the speakers and the crowd jump up and down in a massive mosh pit.
“What is this place?” I ask Rage.
“There are a series of clubs dedicated to the 7 deadly sins. This club is 3 of 7. That means it celebrates 3 of the 7 deadly sins; this first level is Anger,” Rage replies.
That’s where he points to the center of the mob and I see two Demons, beating the hell out of each other while the crowd cheers. The match is vicious. The fighters have torn into each other’s flesh and hurl power balls at each other.
“They place bets on who gets to kill who,” Rage informs me.
“Why are there Angels here?” I ask.
“Not all Angels are…angels,” he replies.
He goes on to tell me that a lot of the Angels here are on CP or other drugs. They are no longer welcome in Angel society.
“And Demons are okay with them being here?” I wonder.
“Sometimes Angels make it out, sometimes they don’t. For the most part, Angels who come here are too high to want to take out Demons, so they don’t really pose a threat. If anything, it’s mostly Demons killing Demons over powers, girls, or just about anything.”
Rage takes my hand and leads me through the rowdy crowd. We end up toward the back, where a makeshift shooting range has been set up, but instead of paper targets, there are real humans.
“You can’t let them kill humans, Rage!” I shout.
“Relax, they’re ‘target’ shadow servants. The club buys them by the truckload. They scream and bleed just like real humans,” Rage replies.
“I’m surprised you guys don’t use real ones.”
“Humans are too valuable to waste on target practice,” Rage informs me.
He goes over to the gun rack, takes out a rifle and hands it over to me. I look at him like he’s lost his mind; he then signals for me to shoot the shadow servants standing yards away.
“I don’t know how to shoot and even if I did, I can’t shoot them. They look real,” I tell him.
“Stop being such a good girl. You want to beat the hell out of Marcus, since you can’t do that; do this,” he suggests.
“I can’t.”
“Picture Marcus sending you away.”
I don’t even have time to aim, my anger flares up and I take a shot. A huge ball of fire springs from the tip of my gun. The force knocks me flat on the ground. The Demons around us laugh at my clumsiness. The shot lands nowhere near any of the tied up shadow servants.
“Did I get him?” I ask Rage as he helps me get back on my feet.
“No. You were too angry. Don’t get me wrong, anger helps, but not without aim. So try this,” Rage says.
He puts his arms around me from behind and shows me how to hold the gun. He talks me through the process. I learn how to control my breathing, how take the proper firing stance, align my target and squeeze the trigger.
I follow his instructions closely, inhale and take another shot. This time I am ready for the blast and am able to maintain my balance. Even more impressive, I actually hit the target in his shoulder. “I got’em!” I scream with my hands up in the air.
“Calm down, Clint Eastwood,” Rage says, laughing at my enthusiasm.
I don’t care if he laughs. It feels so good to destroy something. I quickly get ready to shoot again. We are at it for nearly half an hour. I am now able to hit them right in the chest. Even Rage is impressed by how quickly I have taken to firing a gun.
He tells me there are more powerful weapons, demonic weapons, but that I’m not ready for it. I beg him to let me try them out, but he refuses.
“Fine, but I’m getting a drink,” I inform him.
I make my way through the crowd and head over to the bar. Rage shakes his head and follows me. He informs me that shooting was the only thing he brought me here to do and that we should go home.
“Screw home. I’m stay’n,” I reply.
I sit up at the bar and survey the drinks. All of them are dark colored and thick. They look like something out of a witch’s cauldron. I can’t believe I’m here. Even more surprising, I’m glad to be here.
“All the drinks are named after human disasters Demons are proud of,” Rage says.
The bartender pours drinks from large see through viles and into shot glasses. One drink goes from gray to blood red as soon as it hits the glass. Most of the beings at the bar are drinking it.
“What is that drink called?”
“Chernobyl.”
“What’s in it?”
“A bunch of stuff humans should stay away from.”
“Good; I’ll have two please,” I tell the bartender.
Before Rage can object, I drink the shots, one after the other. It feels like I’ve ingested liquid fire. I drop the glass and touch my face expecting it to be in flames; it’s not. It’s just a feeling and it goes away as quickly as it came. Now I feel lighter. Rage tells me it works like human alcohol, expect it does in one shot what most drinks can do in ten. I order three more.
An hour later, I am no longer disgusted by the fighting taking place of the “Anger” level of the club. In fact, I place a bet on the new fighters. As loud as the crowd screams, I am even louder.
“Kill him! Kill him!” I scream.
Just then, one of the Demons in the crowd, pushes one of the fighters. The fighter pushes back. Soon everyone is in an all-out brawl. Rage takes my hand and says we have to go.
He cuts through the crowd and we head for the exit.
In the corner of my eye, I see a female Angel with her back to me. She’s wearing a royal blue mini dress and six inch heels. The reason she catches my eye is because she’s making out with a Demon in the corner. She doesn’t care that there’s a brawl breaking out, she’s got her tongue down his throat with dedication. He puts his hand on her ass and returns her passionate kiss.
Demons and Angels on CP have a better love life then me…
“What’s the next level?” I ask Rage before we get to the door.
“Unlike level one, where they fight from anger, level two is ‘Envy.’ Demons battle to get other Demons’ powers that they have coveted.”
“What’s on the last level?” I ask as he tries to guide us outside.
“You don’t want to go to level three,” he replies.
“Rage, what’s level three?”
“Lust.”
“What’s up there?” I ask.
“Strippers and a never ending stream of Coy Dark; and before you ask, Coy Dark is just like the Angels’ Coy, except it doesn’t have flavors like ‘Bliss’ and ‘Euphoria.’ It has flavors like ‘ego,’ ‘inhibition’ and ‘sex drive.’”
“Really...?” I reply.
“Yes, now we need to go,” he says as the fight starts getting closer to us.
“Let’s go to the third level,” I announce.
“No.”
“C’mon, Rage.”
“No…I can’t take you up there.”
“I’m just gonna look around,” I beg.
“No.”
“If he won’t take you, Daddy will,” A being says behind us.
We look over and see a tall blond Demon with black eyes and a snake like smile.
Something about his demeanor makes me feel like I need a shower.
“Fine, I’ll take you,” Rage says reluctantly.
“Maybe the human wants to go with me,” the Demon offers.
“No,” I reply as I take Rage’s hand.
We start to take off and the Demon follows us.
“I said she’s going with me,” he threatens.
Rage looks back, his eyes grow dark and a power ball emerges from his palm. The Demon’s eyes widen in alarm.
“First Akon, I didn’t know. I mean…I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he says, flying back down to level one quickly.
“Let’s go,” Rage commands.
We pass the second level called “Envy,” where the Demons battle for powers. We then head for the third level. Rage wasn’t kidding about it being all about “Lust.” There are a number of Demons, both male and female, wearing very little, skillfully sliding down poles.
There are a few differences between this place and the average strip club. For one thing, the poles are floating about the room. Rage tells me the poles are programmed to go to whoever pays more. The customers in the room are seated in plush armchairs with some kind of remote attached. They punch in how much they are willing to pay for the strippers as they float past them.
Like the other levels, a section is reserved for the crowd to dance. They dance so close to each other, there is no room for air. They grind and paw each other like animals in heat.
The third level is thick with salacious intent and scandalous desires.
“Why are there Holders swirling above the dance floor?” I ask, referencing to the large see through bubble-like prison.
“It’s not a Holder. It’s an Offer. It does everything a Holder does, but it can be cracked open. Sometimes beings get really crazy, and climb into one. They start stripping and if the crowd likes it, they shout. The more they shout, the more the Offer weakens until it cracks. Then the guy or girl falls out and into someone’s lap.”
“Classy,” I remark under my breath.
“Hey, sexy, long time no see,” someone says.
Rage and I look up to see one of the strippers sliding down her pole and onto the floor; before Rage even realizes what’s happening, she plants a big kiss on him.
“Tammy, hi,” he says, pulling away from her.
“Where you been, baby?” She asks.
“You know, around,” he says, avoiding her eyes.
“I have time for a free one, what do you say?” She asks as she traces his lips with her index finger suggestively.
“I can’t,” he says, taking her fingers away from his face.
“What, since when?” She asks.
“I’m engaged,” he says.
“So, it’s really true? You let an Angel tie you down? I thought you only liked it when I did that,” she says, undressing him with her eyes.
This girl is really pushing it…
“That’s in the past, Tammy. Things have changed,” he replies proudly.
“Shame, I have a new routine I think you’d really get into,” Tammy says as she coils his hair around her fingers.
Is she really just doing that?
“So, who is this Angel chick, anyway?” Tammy asks as Rage takes her hand away. I can’t take it anymore; she is smug and out of line. I step in front of Rage to answer the skanky Demon’s question.
“Her name is Ameana; she’s a Guardian and she can rip out every bone in your body without ever touching you. So back the hell up,” I bark.
“Human, what did you say to me?” Tammy asks, shocked.
“Did I stutter?” I reply, getting in her face.
Without the slightest hesitation, she lifts her hands up and prepares to send a power ball my way. Rage quickly steps in front of me.
“Tammy, you don’t want to do that,” he warns her.
“She can’t speak to me like that. She doesn’t even have any powers!”
“Bitch, I don’t need powers to beat you!” I shout.
We both start talking over each other. The crowd gathers around us, ready to see a fight.
Rage is overwhelmed and shocked at what is taking place.
“Ladies, ladies, let’s not do this,” Rage says, clearly uncomfortable with the new role of peacekeeper.
“Rage, take this little girl home before I kill her,” Tammy says.
I lunge at her full force. Rage manages to pull me back just as Tammy and I are about to make contact. I fight furiously to get at the Demon, but Rage keeps holding me back.
“Calm down, Tammy; we’re leaving,” Rage assures her.
“The hell I am. I’m heading over to the dance floor. And if see you anywhere near him, I will fuck you up,” I promise her.
I turn my back on her and head across the platform. As I walk away I hear Tammy speak to Rage with utter disbelief.
“I should destroy her; she has no powers.”
“No, but I do; so forget this happened,” he warns her.
On my way to the dance floor, I grab the nearest waitress and take shot after shot of Coy Dark. I don’t read the labels so I don’t know what flavors they were, but judging by the way I feel they must be “Don’t give a damn” and “Bite Me.” They both make me feel really, really good.
Once on the dance floor, I start moving with the crowd. The music controls me. It makes me move in ways I never have before. Rage tries to pull me out of the crowd, but I escape his grasp and go further into the center of the mob. He calls out to me and says it’s time to go home. I fade him out; I fade everything out but the music.
The more I drink, the harder I dance and the easier it is to forget about everything. Soon, I have no idea what I was upset about. I take shots of Coy Dark like it were water. I’m dancing in the crowd with no one in particular until a Demon comes behind me and starts to grind on me. Rage is by my side immediately.
I signal for him to go away. He remains standing nearby, but he doesn’t summon his fireball, so we keep dancing. When they play a club mix of my favorite Rihanna song, I lose my mind; I put both hands up in the air and wind my hips like the girls on the pole.
Then a siren comes on. The Demon girl next to me signals for me to watch what happens.
Suddenly everyone on the dance floor takes off an article of clothing and twirls it around on finger. I had no idea they would do that, but I join in. I take my shirt off, leaving me with my jeans, and undershirt.
I see Rage from the corner of my eye, asking the waitress to bring him something. I guess he’s ready to start partying too. Good then he can stop mothering me.
I don’t have a Mom anymore…
It’s coming back: The grief. The loss. The pain.
I head to the nearest waitress. She offers me a shot glass, but I turn it down and opt for the entire bottle. I down it in a matter of minutes and, just like that, the pain is gone.
I go to head back to my spot while Rage nags me in the background. I ignore him and look up at the Offers hanging above me. I signal to one of the guys on the dance floor, he lifts me up and I am instantly taken into the bubble. The crowd begins to cheer for me.
The world is nothing more than a series of blurred colors in front of me.
So I start to strip. The crowd hollers and cheers down below. The bubble I’m in starts to crack. Rage desperately calls out for me to stop stripping. I’m down to my bra and underwear. There’s no way I’m gonna stop. I want to feel this way forever.
When I put my arms around my back to unhook my bra the crowd applauds so wildly, the Offer cracks open. I squeal in delight as fall out of the sky and into the lap of a Demon with killer green eyes.
“I got you,” he says.
“Lucky me…” I reply.
I didn’t even realize Rage was near me until I felt his hand firmly clasp mine. He pulls me away from the Demon.
“Hey, let go of me!” I demand.
Rage pays no attention to my cries. He steals one of the Demons’ jackets from the back of the chair. The owner of the jacket is about to object when Rage glares at him. The Demon whose lap I fell on comes after me.
“Who the hell are you to take her?” He barks as he summons up a power ball.
“I’m her brother, and I promised Mom she would cut back on maggots,” Rage says as he covers me up with the jacket.
“I’m just dancing, damn. Relax.” I snap.
Again, he pays no attention to me. His focus is one the Demon who still has the power ball in his hand.
“You take her out of here under my dead—”
The Demon never gets to finish his sentence. Rage sets him on fire. He screams as the flames sear his flesh. Everyone in the crowd now realizes who Rage is. Some of them run because they fear the Akon’s wrath and others attack, certain they can get the best of him.
Rage orders me to get behind the bar as the power balls go flying into the air. He’s being attacked from all sides. I want to help, but he says I better stay hidden or he’ll kill me himself. I know he doesn’t mean that, but still I remain behind the bar.
I’m not really sure how we get out of the club, but soon we are outside. Rage tries to get me to go to with him back to the alley where we first landed. Unfortunately, there are a dozen Demons blocking our path.
Rage says there’s too many of them to take on right now. So he breaks into a storefront and we go inside to wait them out. We get low to the ground in one of the aisles and listen as the Demons desperately seek us out.
“I shouldn’t have brought you here, the First Guardian would be pissed,” Rage says.
“He doesn’t give a damn what happens to me.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Rage laughs.
“Could we not talk about him, please?” I snap.
“Fine by me.”
“Demons have the best alcohol. I’m not puking or light headed,” I inform Rage.
“You shouldn’t be; There’s no alcohol in the drinks you had tonight.”
“What? There had to be.”
“There are some mean mixtures in our drinks, but they don’t affect humans.”
“So why did I act that way? Why am I half naked in this store?” I ask.
“You needed an excuse to speak your mind and do what you wanted.”
“And what I wanted was to beat the hell out of Tammy?” I ask.
“Wasn’t that what you wanted?” Rage counters.
“Well, yeah…” I concede.
“So, like I said, you did what you wanted.”
“Fine, I wanted to blow up Tammy, but why would I want to get half naked in a room full of strangers?”
“I hear most girls who do that for a living have daddy issues, and well, given who your father is, I’m surprised you didn’t hit the poles sooner,” he jokes.
“No, there had to be something in the drinks,” I insist.
“I don’t want to tell you how to live your life or anything, but maybe if you did what you wanted to do instead of what was expected from you, you wouldn’t run wild the first chance you get.”
“Are you giving me advice?”
“I’m just saying, you have a right to be pissed. So be pissed. You don’t need alcohol to be your excuse,” Rage says, shrugging his shoulders.
“I never thought about it,” I reply.
“Well let’s go; I think they’re gone now,” Rage says as he takes my hand.
We scurry to the back of the store and survey the area; so far it’s all clear. As we start to take off, Rage stops me.
“Hey, you dropped something,” he says.
I look down on the ground and my sliver necklace lies there with my engagement ring hanging in the middle. I pick it up and study the most valuable thing I have ever been given.
“Okay, let’s go,” Rage calls out.
I don’t head out the door with him. Instead, I clasp the ring in my hand. I can feel my heart breaking all over again. I take deep breaths to stay in control. I refuse to lose control.
“Emmy, let’s move!” Rage orders.
The morning Marcus proposed to me pops into my head. I can’t shake it. I inhale his scent as if he were right in front of me. My longing for him is no longer just an emotion, but an actual weapon. I’ve been wounded by it many, many times before.
I hate him. I really hate him. How could just throw me away? If he loves me like he says, he should find a way to make it work.
“Um…everything…okay?” Rage asks hesitantly.
“Tell me; how do I stop it?” I ask as tears spring to my eyes.
No crying. No crying. Stop it!!!
“How do you stop what?” Rage asks coming closer.
“Love. How do I stop being in love?”
My love for Marcus transforms itself into a blade and shreds my insides open. I gasp in pain and slide down to the floor, but there is no blood to show for my injuries. The only liquid oozing out of me, is the useless salty kind.
“Look, I don’t deal well with…that,” Rage cautions me.
“Deal with what?” I asked between sobs.
“Cry—”
“— FUCK YOU, I AM NOT CRYING!!” I counter as I weep into my hands.
“Okay, you’re right. You’re not crying,” he says, fearing I will cry even harder if he doesn’t agree with the lie I’m telling myself.
Nervously, he sits beside me.
“Just tell me when it’ll get better. I can hold on if I know when it will get better,” I beg Rage.
“Look, um it will all…work out,” he says, struggling for words.
“How do you know that?”
“Well…because…here’s the thing about guys; Angel, human, Quo, or Demon, we’re pretty stupid. I mean with romance and stuff. So we get it wrong–a lot and then, one day, we get it right.”
“He sent me away…” I whisper; too hurt and ashamed to say it any louder.
“See he’s getting it wrong, but that means he’s closer to getting it right,” Rage confirms.
He takes a box of tissues from the counter and hands it to me. I wipe my face and blow my nose.
“Damn it, I can’t even hold back my tears for Marcus. How am I supposed to hold back my love?”
“It doesn’t work; trying to hold love back and shit. It’s always there, hiding behind a shot of Coy Dark, a stripper pole or a fireball. It’s still there,” Rage tells me.
“Great, now I have to start over again,” I tell myself.
“Start what?”
“My ‘no tears’ calendar count down.”
“You have a calendar on your wall to count out the days you don’t cry?”
“No; I have an app.”
“Nice…” He says, smiling.
“Now, I have to start all over. I was so proud of myself and now…”
He studies me. Then a light comes into his eyes.
“You didn’t cry, Emmy.”
“Thanks for trying.” I reply.
“No, seriously. Sometimes Coy Dark can have a side effect on humans; it messes with their tear ducts.”
“Really?” I ask, knowing he’s full of it.
“Yeah, so this outburst was…medical; a side effect of the Coy. Your record is still intact,” he lies.
I smile despite myself and embrace him tightly. He is thrown off by it, but a few seconds later, he starts to hug me back.
“Okay, I’m ready to go,” I say as we pull apart.
“I’ll check the back entrance again, you stay here,” Rage says.
As I watch him leave, I look around and find the bathroom. Once inside, I splash cold water on my face and neck. I zip up the jacket all the way and exit the bathroom. Rage is not back yet. I take a quick peek out the front store window to see if any Demons are out.
The streets are clear, except for the Angel I saw earlier; the girl with the royal blue mini dress and high heels. She and the Demon are making out a few feet away from me.
I can’t see her face because she’s sucking on the Demons’ neck. The Demon laughs and fondles her.
“Wow, get a room,” I whisper.
Just as I am about to make my way to the back of the store, the Demon grabs the girl and embraces her from the back, finally giving me a clear view of her face.
“Miku.”