What Mark meant when he said he'd pick me up the next day was that he'd appear with his whole squad outside of my apartment at seven in the morning. Silas was having breakfast, fresh as a rose, while I was trying not to die of exhaustion.
"Why did you turn our home into an art gallery overnight?" Silas pointed to the talismans as he devoured his cereals.
Peter whistled, leaning to inspect one of the pieces of parchment attached to the door. The twins plopped on the sofa as if they owned the place.
"One can't be too careful, right? You have your Holy Water?" I handed him a piece of parchment paper. "Here, take this. Put it on your shoe."
Silas rolled his eyes. "Really? Isn't this overkill?"
"Oh?" I opened my eyes like a crazy person. "Haven't I been the cautionary tale already?"
"Contrary to you, I don't ask for trouble." Before I could reach him, my brother darted from the table, running to the door laughing. In his way out, he collided with Peter. "See ya, bro."
"Where are we going today?"
I shrugged, feigning ignorance, although I had already decided to go back to Sabela's shop. "You can follow up one lead, I'll follow the other."
Mark shook his head. "No way. Haven't you seen any scary movie? We separate." He slid his index finger over his neck. "And we're cooked. That's why I brought back-up." Mark pointed to the three with a proud smile.
"I'm here against my will," Lily said. She crossed her arms. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail and she was wearing a plain grey tracksuit. She had traces of mascara under her eyes.
"So am I," grunted Peter. "This witch is going to get us all killed."
"So we're going back to Sabela's, I reckon." Mark had a way of recognizing me that threw me off balance each time he guessed what I was thinking like I was clearer than a glass of water. "I'm not going to leave your side until—"
"Did you see something strange when you left yesterday?" I asked Mark, propping my hands on the counter. The other three turned when they heard the question, Peter's eyes narrowed. "Like... " Like a figure in the dark. A man. Was the figure following me out of the sudden, or was he interested in Mark? "Anything?"
Mark shook his head, pinching together his eyebrows. However, there was something Mark had said—An idea took form in my mind. Without considering it too much, I pushed a talisman onto Mark's chest, holding it in place. At first, Mark stood still, a surprised smile still frozen in his face.
"Do you feel anything?" I searched his face.
Mark coughed. "No..." He tried to smile, but failed.
He was lying.
A fog overtook his blue eyes until they were completely white, like he was turning into stone. The abyss swallowed him and it enveloped me. Mark was no more before my eyes but whatever had stayed behind wouldn't hurt me as long as I held the talisman. I wasn't hoping to cure him with a mere piece of paper, but I had a different objective altogether.
"Leave him!" Peter yelled.
"Stay back if you don't want to die," I yelled back, jumping over the counter and pining Mark against the linoleum floor. I drew from the force of my ancestors through an old Galician chant that I muttered. It was a battle of wits, but I knew I wasn't strong enough. I just wanted to see— "Show yourself."
A dare. A challenge.
Although every detail on the room was clear to me, and I could still see Peter and the twins speaking to each other, I was miles away, inside the darkness. I found I had no voice. I found I had no body. Everything I could do was be the catalyst for the will of my lineage, and I let everything flow freely around me to shield me.
I felt the power of the abyss pushing against my shield, and I recognized it. Mark's body was rotten, it was a bag of bones and desiccated skin, and through his ribcage, a claw punched out, its claws stopping short of my neck. Its nails were long and its veins pulsed bright orange. "So it was you," I whispered, not sure if the others present could hear me. "You killed her."
There was demon inside Mark. Not around him, not inside the abyss that embraced him, but inside of him. I hadn't seen it before because I had the suspicion he wanted to remain hidden, and there was no better mask than the one that involved a hundred other demons. They were protecting it. But if that was the case, why had it made its presence known to me at my grandma's shop?
The talisman started to slowly wither, as if the heat from the demons was burning it away. I had little time left. The corners of the paper turned brown, and then black, and then dust. "What's your name? What are you doing in this body?"
" ψ̵̲͇̦͈͍̬̉ͅ ̷͔̺̀ ̶̰̉W̴͋̈̅̋̔͜͝ê̵̝̈̈́̽͂ ̵̭̻̳͗͊̕͠a̶̦̮̽r̸͖͎͕̙̣̈̄̍͊͒̓e̶̬̤̩͌ ̷͍͙̣̑͑̂̉̍͠L̵̞̘̬͛͆̾e̶̫̮̞̘̯̎̀̊̑̔ĝ̵̡̨̹̠̰̜̃̈́̔̾̚͘ĭ̸̯͙̗̥̻̙̑o̶̧̟̗̟͈̿̿n̶̼̑̇͒̒ ̵̩̫̪̞̑̈́͐͆̎͋͜ψ̵̳̬͓̓̈̇̍̅͘͜ ̴̛̯̮̻̾̐"
"Leave Mark," the ghost of my mom advised. She placed a hand on my cheek. "It took my mother, and it will take you, too."
My grandma wasn't there. But my great-grandmother was. She pushed my head down, and at first I thought she was making me bow before the demon. Until she kept pushing and pushing, and my face was inches from the rotting corpse that used to be Mark. Only it wasn't rotting anymore, and Mark's face had recovered his plumpness and I was looking at strikingly beautiful blue eyes.
The talisman was trapped between our bodies as the demon hand slowly retreated. He was awake. Mark was awake. But I didn't know if he was with me, or if it was just an empty shell. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to breathe in, as if he wanted to talk.
My great-grandmother was gone. As well as my mother. The darkness, too. The room was back. Mark was back. I was back home. My necklace was resting over Mark's cheek as he looked at me sideways. There was an ancient recognition on his features.
"Is kissing me part of your plan, Mitch?"
"Huh?" Blinking away the disorientation that was slowing down my brain, I finally understood Mark's words.
My body was on top of his. My lips were dangerously close to his mouth, to the point I could breathe the air the let out. Of course my intention was to get away from him, and I could've have done so if Peter hadn't tackled me that exact moment.
The force of impact struck me with the intensity of a high-velocity train. My head snapped sideways and Peter's body crashed into mine like a wall of concrete.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Peter's fist connected with my arms as I protected my face. "Fucking weirdo."
The twins were trying to get him off me, or at least that's what I imagined they were doing, because I could only pay attention to Peter's deadly attack. I get it. Peter was trying to protect his friend, and I was the one trying to hurt him.
Only there was two sides of the story. The other side of the story stood, his fist sending Peter's head backwards. Mark shoved Peter against the wall, grabbing him by the collar.
"Leave Mitch alone," he threatened.
"Markie..." Peter muttered. He looked more hurt by Mark's gesture than by his fist. "Man, don't you see? He was trying to kill you."
Lily laughed. "I'd say the little witch was trying to hook up with Mark."
Her twin, John, was chewing a gum as he smiled cockily. "What a show. Please, don't get a room."
Mark swallowed. I didn't know how much of our exchange he'd remember. If he'd knew of the demon that had tore a hole on his sternum. Or if he'd just witnessed our 'almost kiss'. My cheeks burned from embarrassment. He let go of Peter and fixed the cuffs of his hoodie. "I mean." He cleared his throat. "What the fuck, Mitchell? Are you crazy?"
"Okay."
Peter's confused face was a sight I enjoyed. "Okay, what?" He barked. The collar of his sweater was stretched beyond repair. "You can come with me, if you want to." My joyful voice hid the fear as I passed through the burnt lady on the way to my room.
I chose a white hoodie, and tossed it to Peter.
"You told me you want to tag along. Please, do. We have a lot of things to do." I pointed to the door, quickly grabbing a can of soda. When nobody followed, I spun around. "Let's go?"
"Are you on drugs?" John asked, at the same Peter asked, "Are you serious?"
"No, and yes. Two months, right? We better not lose a fucking second." I walked out of the door. At first, my footsteps echoed on the hallway. But soon enough, the other footsteps joined mine.
"Care to explain?" Mark pulled my sleeve. "Don't leave us out."
A long time ago, I came running home after school scared and crying because I had encountered an otherworldly creature on a filthy alleyway. Sabela stopped cutting the onions for the frittata and listened to me attentively as I told her the ordeal between sobs and hiccups. When I finished, she laughed. For my surprise, she laughed for a whole minute, and I just watched her as I decided whether to feel angry or laugh with her. Surely, if she felt the story was funny, then I was safe.
"What you saw isn't a supernatural creature," she explained, tussling my hair. "That ball of fur and mouths was a rat king. And it belongs to the human world."
"A rat king? Do rats have princesses, too?"
I pushed the button of the elevator. "Have you heard of rat kings?"
Mark shook his head. "Enlighten me."
"When winter comes, rats huddle together to keep warm." The ping indicated the elevator was on our floor. Its door opened smoothly. "It's an instinctual ritual that many animals show. Cats, for example. They're cuddlier when they're cold. But rats have long tails, they get tangled with each other. Blood, mud, anything can act as glue in the right conditions."
"So they go around with their tails joined?" Lily asked with a disgust curving her lips downwards. "Ew."
I shook my head to answer her question. "It's much worse." Once inside the elevator, I pushed the button. My mind filled with the image of that creature on the alley. "More of them get tangled, and when they try to run, they tighten the knot. And in the end, they die."
"Why are you telling us this?" Peter interjected, knocking me on the shoulder on his way out of the elevator.
"They're signs of bad luck. They foretell plagues, disease, all kinds of stuff."
"So what?" John asked. "Mark, have you seen a rat king?"
"Mark is the rat king," I responded, glancing at him through the corner of my eyes.