Page 2 of Halluci-Dating A Demon
“Thanks so much for the opportunity, and I’ll see you sometime next week . . . maybe.” This is it. I may get to live in the human world soon. If they see how well I work there, they might approve my application faster. Getting a visa is getting harder and harder with all these silly regulations and rules. I have to prove myself time and time again. Demons like me are seen as unpredictable since we have the ability to enter people’s sleep and affect their dreams. I’d never purposely bring harm or painto anyone, though, and this could be my way of showing them that.
“Yeah. I’ll be there to touch base with you after your first couple of visits.”
I go still, eyes widening. “First couple?”
“Yes. You’ll be working closely with Mr. Salazar every day for a month. Unless you’re unable to—”
“No,” I blurt. “I can do it. It’ll give me more time to understand him, and this could be more beneficial in the long run.”
“Excellent. I have to get to a meeting now, but I can’t wait to read over your first report.” He pats me on the shoulder, ambulating around me toward the open doorway. When I’m finally left standing here alone, my body relaxes and I let out a happy laugh.
It worked. It actually worked. I’ll be on the other side of the wall soon, and I might actually be able to help someone who really needs it. I will have to find ways to blend in better with their kind, somehow, if I’m going to be spending more time in their world. My interests never seemed to mesh up with anyone else. I do like watching movies, I suppose, but I’d rather be outside gathering flowers and reading in the grass. The friendly kind that tickles you when you least expect it while also forming a nice little pillow underneath your body. What’s the grass like over there? Are there giant bugs living underneath it too? Do they have sinking dirt?
I’ve tried to ask other people these questions, but they seem to get impatient with my constant rambling and how I quickly jump from one topic to another. I’ll get to find out on my own soon enough, though. I exit the clinic, walking into the bright sky light and jumping down the steps. It’s happening. It’s really happening. So many more possibilities are about to open up for me and I can’t wait to welcome them all.
I’ve been living in base housing for almost a year now. I didn’t need to attend classes as long as some other monsters, mostly because I’ve been studying humans all my life. Their language, thought process, basic morals and emotions. I learned about the way they dress and eat. Food isn’t a requirement for my kind, but I’ve really enjoyed some human snacks and these weird squares of meat they keep in their fridges. I was happy when the base opened a store with a mixture of food from both worlds to appease all the species that stayed and lived here.
Up until now I’ve only been able to enter the human world through people’s sleep and haven’t ever been able to walk outside. When I close my eyes to channel the other world, I have people’s thoughts swimming through my brain the way people swipe through movies and videos on devices, and I can’t leave their rooms if they have their doors closed. The rules are very weird, and I’ve never fully understood them. I wonder how different it’ll be visiting them while I’m in their world instead of mine. I’ll at least be able to leave their houses this time. I’ll walk down the street and see what sunlight feels like . . . see if clouds really do form funny shapes in the sky.
When I get home and read over the file, I feel a deep ache in my chest. This man has suffered so much. What if the small burden I might be able to remove from his life won’t be enough?
When I dig a little deeper, channeling his past visits from other demons, I grow angry. So many demons will use anything to get the most fear and anger out of someone. They don’t care what pain or harm they cause, they only care about what they earn from it in the end. I’ve never had that kind of thinking. Putting others first is in my nature, but no one’s ever understood why I care so much. Maybe because so many of them don’t.
These demons who visited him before were rubbing his past mistakes in his face, forcing him to suffer a loss time and time again. A month might not be long enough for me to erase thedamage they caused. I’m going to try my best anyway. Not only because I wanted my idea to work, but also because I have this strange feeling in my chest that we were meant to find each other.
Two
Elias
My eyes flash open to the fan spinning above me and daylight filling my room. I used to close the curtains, but that made me feel like I was drowning in the dark for too long, and at least this way I can find the light easier when I need it. I try to move my fingers and toes to help pull me out of my current paralyzed state. If I’m able to move as much as a small muscle, it’s usually enough to wake up the rest of my body.
I keep trying but fail each time. It’s as if I’m racing against time, trying to stop him from showing up. Trying to stop myself from seeing him . . . My heart pounds, a heavy weight settling on my chest. I’m too late.
Adam looks down at me, tilting his bleeding head. A cut slices across one of his eyes and blood drips from his lips. He gurgles,making choking sounds. His limbs are crooked, the skin on his fingers hanging off the bone as he inches closer to me.
“No.” I try to scream, but nothing comes out except a high-pitched sound from my throat. I see him every day. Exactly like this. White shirt and dark jeans like he had on that day when . . . when I killed him. When I ended his life, and my world crumbled around me.
Tears well in my eyes, leaving behind a deep pressure in my head. His fingers claw at the sheets, and he crawls forward, blood staining everything he touches. “Help,” he says, sounding demonic and nothing like my brother. “Help,” he says again, in a more screeching tone.
I can’t. If I could turn back time, I would, but I can’t. I’d gladly take his place. In my nightmares I try to, but he always ends up being the one crushed between metal, and I’m always the one unable to stop the bleeding. Unable to reach him and get him out in time. I’m the one who gets to keep going while he remains six feet under.
The blankets slowly slide off my body and a heavy weight rests on my legs. Please . . . just fucking move. Adam crawls further up my body, his eyes lifeless and dark. He smiles at me, blood still pouring from between his lips, and as he starts moving faster, I’m finally able to kick forward, gaining full consciousness.
My chest heaves, breaths sticking to my throat as I open my mouth. Adam is gone but I can still see him everywhere. I can still hear his pleas. I can still feel him reaching for me.
I clench my eyes shut and open them again, my breaths coming out in quick pants as I bend forward, trying to do the technique my therapist taught me for whenever I’m mid-panic attack. Fear and devastation swirl inside me, not lessening no matter what I do. It’s always so damn real. A wave of dizziness fills my head and my muscles in my knees begin to weaken. Strong emotions set off my cataplexy, and I do my best todistract myself from them whenever I’m not home, but right now I’m in a safe place. I can’t hurt myself in my own bed. I can’t hurt anyone else either.
I drift a little but tug myself awake at the sound snapping of bones. The screeching stops as soon as it comes, and I grasp tighter to consciousness.
“It’s not him,” I whisper. “It’s not real.”
Most of that day was a blur and I can only remember bits and pieces. Some of what happened comes to me in my nightmares, but I think my brain might have made most of it up based on what people have told me—based on photos I was shown of us at the lake. Of Adam, my boyfriend Brody, and me. We all liked to go fishing together one weekend a month. It’s why we’d decided to get a house together so close to the lake.
I can’t remember our last conversations, though. I don’t know what was last said between us before he was taken from me. I don’t know why it feels so important to know, but it does. Maybe because I’m trying to hold onto every part of him that I can. Brody was in the back seat and only suffered a few scratches, while I blacked out from a bad concussion, my ribs and legs broken. I was forced into an induced coma, and I fought for my life, but my brother died on impact.
I tug at my hair, doing my box breathing—holding my breath, inhaling, exhaling, and repeat. Once I no longer feel like I’m suffocating and my limbs aren’t too heavy to move, I step onto the cold wooden floor. My toes curl at first contact and I slowly step forward, making my way to the bathroom. I turn the light on, looking away from the mirror as I brush my teeth and get ready for the day. I don’t need to look at my reflection to know I have sunken, red-rimmed eyes with bags underneath. All it’ll do is remind me of how I’m unable to do anything about it. I don’t need a reason to feel more helpless than I already do.
Already having showered earlier this morning, I change into a clean pair of sweats and a plain black T-shirt.
