Whirling about, Armageddon rounds on the student body, seeming to stare into all our eyes at once. I have the strange sensation he’s reaching into our souls, testing our strength, our ability to fight him. A satisfied grin curls his wide mouth. “My inspection is complete.”
Turning on his heel, Armageddon marches out the gymnasium’s back door, the Manus demons skulking along behind him. The group lumbers across the threshold, followed by the unmistakable hum of a portal opening in the hallway beyond. The gym door slowly swings shut with a long creak.
I exhale. He’s gone. Tension seeps from my shoulders. My stomach unwinds.
Seconds tick by. The gymnasium stays silent. All at once, students break into sobs. Others scream. A teacher collapses. More kids stare about the room, wide-eyed with panic. The headmaster steps back to the podium.
“Everyone will return to class. Until further notice, History class will report to TNK-XJ64 for extra lessons in the Ghoul Protection League. That is all.” He marches around the gym, comforting the most hysterical students and encouraging everyone back into their routine.
Huh. My eyes flare red as I stare at the headmaster. Didn’t take long for him to decide that the solution for their Armageddon problem was more Ghoul Protection League classes for us. Asshole.
Cissy grips my hand, her voice is low and ragged. “Stay close to me, sweetie.” We follow the crush of kids out of the gym. I scan the terrified faces around me. Something’s coming, and it’s not a new era of friendly relations between ghouls, angels, demons, thrax, and quasis. It’s Armageddon.
The rest of the day is a mish-mash of stuttering teachers and tear-streamed faces. Cissy joins me for the rest of my classes. She keeps asking me how I’d fight a Manus demon. For once, I’m not thrilled to answer.
Somehow I find Betsy, drive home and stuff my head with Mom’s homemade spaghetti. Throughout dinner, my mother watches my every move with interest.
“How was the pasta?”
I set my plate in the sink. “Yummy, Mom. Thanks.”
Her chocolate eyes narrow. “Can you help me with some robe alterations?”
“Sure.”
We step into her room. I stand on a stool in front of a multi-paneled mirror. Mom slips a ghoul-robe over my head and examines the hem. I stare into the reflective glass, seeing the large brown eyes, high cheekbones, and full mouth that convinced so many human souls that I was harmless.
Mom sits at my feet, a silver push-pin held firmly between her lips. She speaks from one side of her mouth. “Want to talk about it yet?”
I can’t help but smile. Mom noticed I’m upset. She’s done that a lot more lately. “Wow. How long have you known?”
She bobs her head from side to side. “Since you walked through the door, pretty much.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t believe you haven’t asked me a million questions by now.”
“I haven’t, have I?” She leans back on her heels, her gaze lost in thought. “The dreamscapes from Verus have been good for me.” She nods, decisively. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk about things.” She pokes my heel with her pointer finger and smiles. “More importantly, they’ve been good for us.”
I return her grin. “Yeah, they have.” Half the time, Mom skips her grueling morning question-and-answer sessions. That alone has been a huge relationship builder. “Maybe we should reach out to Tim, bring the family together.”
She eyes me carefully. “Maybe you should tell me what happened today?”
She’s got me there. I inhale a long breath. “Things have been weird at school for a long time. It started back in September when angels started hanging around our Headmaster and Superintendent. Turns out, they’ve been giving advice on how to protect against demons. That’s why the school started the Ghoul Protection League.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “I remember you telling me about that silly League.”
“I didn’t take it too seriously at first, either.”
Cocking her head to one side, Mom eyes the drape of the robe. Pulling the pin from her mouth, she sets it into the fabric’s hem. “The demons aren’t acting like the good little allies they once were. The rank-and-file ghouls know something’s going on, even if their leaders don’t.”
Rising to her feet, Mom gently grips the robe’s shoulders. “We’re all set. Let me pull this off you.” The fabric slides over my head. “Watch the pins.” She lays the new robe over a nearby chair, then sits at the foot of her bed. “So, strange things were happening, and you didn’t take it seriously. But now you are. Why?”
Stepping down from the stool, I sit beside Mom. “Armageddon ‘inspected’ our school today.” I make little quotation marks with my fingers when I say ‘inspected.’ “He killed one of the teachers for no reason.”
“Oh, my. Did the Oligarchy show up?”
“No.”
“It’s what they should have done. With their Group Think, they knew exactly what was happening by the second. Armageddon was testing them.”
“Well, they failed that test, big-time.” What a bunch of bozos the Oligarchy are.