Page 36 of Prayer of the Damned

I’m trying to understand just what those right questions are, but I can’t figure him out. I’m constantly drawn to the pen he shifts between his fingers, alternately poking his cheek. When he runs the pen between his lips and sucks on it, I’m sure he’s toying with me. I don’t know what game he’s playing, but I have a feeling I’m losing it.

I get to my feet and straighten my summer dress. “I’ll have to get back to you on that,” I say, and leave his office before he can try to stop me again.

Before I shut the door to his office, I dare to take one last look at our new hunk lecturer. He doesn’t look at me, but he nods his head… with disappointment?

Something in the pit of my stomach tells me I need to stay away from him. Unfortunately that’s not possible, because tomorrow we’re starting our Demonic History classes, that I now know will be under the supervision of none other than Dr. Bartimaeus Abano.

Chapter Fourteen

Bellcolor

Ipeek in my room before I go in, and I’m disappointed to find that Valentina isn’t there. I check the time on my phone. 10 PM. Summer classes officially start tomorrow, and I don’t know if the faculty will let them party until late hours. On the other hand, we don’t need sleep, so who am I to presume how this place works?

I lie on my bed and call my father to let him know that Prof. Sapienti has returned to his creator and been replaced by the mysterious lecturer. If there’s a demon who knows him, it must be my father. The dial tone echoes in my ears again and again, until the call goes to voicemail. I try again, but the result is the same. It’s strange, my dad said he’d be available for me at any time. With my luck it would be right now that he’s unavailable.

I send a text message so he won’t worry:I called but you weren’t available. I went to Prof. Sapienti’s office. Get back to me when you can. I’m alright.

I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. I’m alone in my room while everyone else my age is partying. Despite my life beingturned upside-down, I’m in the same situation. What Valentina and I did ended in a completely fucked-up way, but she offered, so why is she acting like this? Besides, she’ll get in even more trouble if it becomes known that she abandoned me tonight.

I straighten up and decide not to drown in self-pity again. That won’t be the new life of Belle Fermi. It’s time for me to take the reins and start living my life the way I want to.

I take advantage of the opportunity with all the other students partying, and before you call me a nerd, I’ve concluded that the Dean’s non-punishment has led me to the only place on campus where I can find answers – the library.

“Ms. Fermi,” Ms. Lando greets me from her spot behind the library counter. We’d managed to introduce ourselves on my first visit here.

“Good evening,” I smile at her.

Fortunately Ms. Lando isn’t curious about why I’m here. She immediately returns to the book in her hand, and I hurriedly disappear between the library stacks.

During one of our summer vacations, when my father took me with him to a business meeting in England, I asked Marcus to take me on a trip to Oxford. With my father’s connections I managed to get a private tour of the library, and I remember not being able to make a sound, I was so astonished.

I can safely say that the library at the University of Bologna is even more beautiful. The air in the library is thin and adjusted for the ancient books, and it’s as cold as the deepest grave in the world. Prof. Sapienti did say that if a demon ever existed in a situation like mine, they weren’t documented in the history books… but there are always exceptions. All I have to do is look in the right places.

I pass by the various wings of the library and pause at the folklore section. The images of demons in urban legendsare nothing like what we really are, but there are still a few overlapping similarities.

Every legend has a touch of truth to it, and I intend to extract that information using the means at my disposal.

I remember my father mentioning protective and healing powers being connected to divinity, and decide that’s a good starting point. I pull out all the books containing legends that mention angels gifted with those abilities, and start rapidly scanning them. The images change over time, but most have one recurring element all angels share: they have human bodies and wings on their backs. I also found a book on Jewish mythology in which the angels have no wings. I know that angels walk among humans, just like us, so how do they hide their wings?

Is the truth actually in the one book that portrays them differently?

When I reach what I roughly estimate to be the hundredth book, I’m about ready to vomit at the purity and nobility in the images of the angels. They promise salvation and true love, like they hold the answers to all the questions in the world.Come on.

When I read about the wrath of God in the Old and New Testaments, I realize he’s no different from Satan himself. Maybe God has a devilish side too, but humans prefer to ignore that. In general, the more I read the more I understand that humans are creatures who’d rather not take responsibility for their actions.

If they sin, they suck up to their God claiming the Devil is behind their lapse. And the worst of all are those who act in the name of God but sow only hatred. They’re false prophets, the Devil’s most beloved.

I try to consider what I think of supposedly being on the wrong side of the divide, the Devil’s side. I don’t know why, but I don’t feel bad or a need to apologize for it. All the stories of the divine seem so phony to me, and I can’t find any credibility inthem. And yet I’m reminded of the cold morning wind that day I died, the curtain fluttering in the wind, dancing with the young sunbeams… I shake my head to stop the daydream.

The descriptions of the angels must be wrong too, they’re at constant war just like us. And war is always dirty business. Anyone who hasn’t dirtied their hands has no chance of winning. So I don’t doubt that angels aren’t as sacred and pure as the books present them. Otherwise I’d be sitting here with my hairy body, sharpened horns on my head, and burning the whole place down with fire shooting out of my eyes.

I chuckle at that thought.

As I finish my investigation and leave the library, I see that it’s daybreak. I breathe in the cold early morning air and feel alert. It’s my favorite time of day – when the sky isn’t bright or dark. I look at the sky, slowly filling up in a rainbow of soft colors.

The shifts from night to day and day to night is an endless war. Dawn defeats the night, and the dark swallows the sun. The perfect balance. The eternal cycle of life. Just like the war our creators are waging. We’re just the soldiers, forced to obey lest we be wiped off the face of the earth. Plain and simple.

And yet I still have no idea what my role is in this whole array.

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