Page 4 of My Roommate from Hell
“We have some explaining to do,” says Maleilius, his voice surprisingly bashful for someone as powerful and well known as him. “Unfortunately, my son’s roommate has become… uh. Abruptly unavailable. But in a stroke of luck, your roommate, Mr. Bahtia, had a change of heart! So, the Fates have put you together. Dean Leeke didn’t contact you?”
I shake my head.
“This must be quite the surprise. And oh, excuse me, mind my manners.” He offers me his hand, which is covered in rings studded with various black jewels. “I’m Maleilius, Lord of Misery and Master of the Rotting Riverlands. Dark tidings to you.”
I shake his hand. The queen of Hell, Lysteria, is standing by the window at the back of the room, inspecting her long red fingernails. She glances at me, gives me a once-over, and doesn’t look very impressed. Not that she ever looks impressed by anything. Always dressed in bold designer clothes and with a vibe that says she’d slit a man’s throat just for fun, the queen of Hell rapidly earned herself status as a gay icon.
Seeing her in person, I try to keep a friendly face while my mind involuntarily whispers, “Slaaaay.”
“I think you’ve startled him,” she says. “Don’t worry, human. We don’t bite.”
“Unless asked!” chimes Maleilius as he pulls down on the lapels of his jacket. “Where were we—ah, introductions. I’m Maleilius, and behind me is my wife, Lysteria.”
“Pleasure,” she says. “I do hope you got through the protest safely. Those humans are simply grotesque. They shouldn’t have let them through the gates—a university is no place for people with a phobia of progress.”
“Darling,” says Maleilius, “please stop watching the protesters. They’ll think you’re cursing them.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. But let’s just say it’s acoincidencesome of them will have spider eggs hatching in their stomach tonight.”
Sitting on the bottom bunk of the bed is the prince of Hell. I know who he is. Zarmenus. I’ve seen him online a lot, too, but in person it’s impossible to miss just how striking he is. He’s tall with dark features, and his curly black hair manages to look unkempt and yet perfect, falling in a way that totally suits him. He’s wearing gym shorts and a black tank top that shows off ridiculous biceps.
My new roommate, it seems. He’s looking at his phone, totally ignoring us.
I’m so shocked by their presence that I only now am just figuring out that our room only has a bunk bed. Every other room I’ve seen, and every post online, showed two beds side by side. You know, like a normal dorm room. But not this one, for some reason. In the space where the other bed should be is an old couch. From where he’s lying, it’s clear Zarmenus has chosen the bottom bunk.
Maleilius clears his throat. Zarmenus keeps looking at his phone, which only makes Maleilius do it louder.
Zarmenus lifts his focus, and his eyes lock onto mine. Like his father’s, his eyes are flecked with cinders.
“Hey,” he says, then he goes back to looking at his phone.
“Zarmenus,” says Maleilius, the tone of warning in his voice clear. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”
Zarmenus rolls his eyes, then gets out of bed and trudges across the room to me.
“Hi,” he says, offering me his hand and making it very clear he is only doing so because he is being forced to by his father. What is he, a petulant toddler?
“Hi,” I say back. “I’m Owen.”
Zarmenus gives me a tight smile. “Zarmenus.”
Zarmenus folds his arms, and I kick at the ground until Maleilius clears his throat.
“Amazing!” says Maleilius. “I can tell you two are going to get on swimmingly.” He turns and notices Mom, who from the looks of things is even more shocked by what we’ve stumbled into than I am. “And you must be Owen’s sister?”
Mom blushes, which I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do before. “I’m Jane, Owen’s mom.”
He lifts Mom’s hand and kisses it. “I must say, you are a truly horrific sight. Where did you get that awful dress?”
Mom just stares at him.
“Dad,” groans Zarmenus. “Please stop flirting with my roommate’s mother.”
A new set of worries is now filling my mind, running alongside the oh-crap-my-roommate-is-a-demon-prince thing. Because evenwith all that going on, I can’t help noticing that Zarmenus is, simply put, a classically handsome jock. I’ve never meshed well with jocks. Like, yes, some of them at school were nice, and I know it’s never good to make assumptions, but I can’t help it. Some of the most cruel, unlikable people in my high school looked just like him. They used their popularity and muscles and status to torment people they thought were lesser than them. And even then, people seemed to bend over backward to cater to their every desire.
“We’ll give you some space to get settled,” says Maleilius. “But now, boys.” Maleilius puts one hand on my shoulder and the other on Zarmenus’s. “I want to take a moment to appreciate just how historic this is, and how vital this pairing is to bothman- anddemonkind. Promise me that you will try your hardest to be good to each other.”
“Stop,” says Zarmenus, shaking his father’s hand off. “He’s already freaking out, there’s no need to make it worse.”
