She makes another slice with the chopping arm. “He blackmailed or bribed all the ghouls who became the new Oligarchy. Purgatory’s defenses allow only a handful of demons to enter at a time. Armageddon convinced the ghouls to open enough portals for an entire demon army to enter our lands.”
“Wow. They didn’t teach us that in school.” Frowning, I angrily pick at the chipped counter with my thumbnail. School sucks.
“I’m not surprised.” Mom makes another slice. “The demons routed our defenses and set up a puppet government of ghouls. Since then, as long as the ghouls send extra souls to Hell, the demons support their rule.” She shivers. “But I don’t think Armageddon will be happy with a puppet government in forever. It’s not in his nature.”
I lace my fingers behind my neck and let out a long breath. Let’s sum up the awfulness here. I have a ghoul for a dad, a silent treatment for a best friend, and a Mom with a ton of depressing history to think through. My vision turns hazy at the edges.
Mom eyes me closely. “Why don’t you stay home from school today? You don’t look well.”
I picture facing Cissy and the silent treatment at school. I feel a little sick to my stomach.
“You’re right, Mom. I’m going back to bed.” I’ve been awake for less than an hour, but it’s already been that kind of day. I slump into my room, curl under my covers, and fall fast asleep. A contented smile curls my lips as I fall off into a dreamscape-free sleep.
***
I stay home the rest of that day, and the next, and the next. Mom’s really cool about it. She makes me frozen dinners and lets me watch all the television I want. A full week goes by before I trek back to class.
As I putter along the familiar route to school, my face stretches into a confident grin. After a whole week, Cissy must feel sorry for her super-sick best friend, transforming her envy demon into ancient history. In fact, I bet she’ll just say hello and chat away like nothing ever happened.
Yeah, that’s it.
I park Betsy, step into school and scan the crowded hallway. Cissy stands beside by her locker. I walk to her side and slap on my most winning smile.
“Hey there, Cissy.”
Silence.
“I’m feeling much better, thanks for asking.”
Cissy slowly turns to face me. The moment her eyes meet mine, her irises flash so brightly, I shield my eyes from the glare. With a low growl, she slams her locker and stomps off down the hallway.
My stomach twists with disappointment. So much for chatting away like nothing happened. Damn, her envy demon is a bitch when it’s up.
I go to class and pretend to look interested at whatever garbage the Old Timer has to say, but actually I’m brainstorming awesome one-liners for Cissy. I know if I can get her to laugh at lunch, she’ll crumble (and I’ll avoid the thrax tournament). My favorite line is: “Talk to me and I’ll brush your tail.” I nod silently. This will work for sure.
That’s when a thud sounds at the class door.
Everyone freezes as all eyes turn to the stranger. A dark figure looms through the door’s small glass window. The intruder’s skin is black and smooth as polished stone. My body tenses.
That looks like Armageddon. Hells bells. He’s coming to kill off the ghouls, just like Mom predicted. My tail arches over my shoulder, ready to strike.
The Old Timer waves the intruder away. “Come back later. I’m in a very important lesson.”
The stranger knocks again, this time hard enough to set the doorframe shaking. “Inspection!” The voice sounds like hundreds of people whispering at once.
My mind races through the different types of demons. Which one would have a voice like that? The sound is grating, mysterious, and completely terrifying. Demonic wrath curls up my belly, preparing me to fight.
The Old Timer crinkles his nose, making his handlebar moustache twitch. “I wasn’t informed of any inspection.”
“Demon inspection.”
The Old Timer straightens his robes and rushes over to the class door, swinging it wide open with a flourish. “Welcome to my classroom, oh mighty demon.”
The figure lurches into the room. Tall and slender, it looks like a smaller version of Armageddon, right down to the fitted black tuxedo. The Old Timer speeds to the demon’s side, gesturing to the room full of students.
My inner demon growls with anger. The Old Timer’s showing us off like it’s dinnertime and we’re so many sides of beef. My mouth stretches into a dark smile. Just try something, you two. Anything.
“Mighty demon, this class is called Lessons in Servitude. Is there a particular skill you’d like to see? Robe cleaning, massage, bowing and scraping?”
“I’m not here to see anything.” The edges of the demon’s thin red mouth twist into a smile.
The Old Timer coils the end of his moustache with one finger. “Then, what are you here for?”