A Dance Of Gods ✓

14. Rage Rooms

Taylor

I take a single bite of my salad, chewing as slow as possible. With her watching me- I feel awkward for having human needs. Then, I notice her not blinking and side-glance. I try not to, I really do- but I can't help it.

A few feet in front of us, the tv blares some old sitcom that can't keep my attention- everything else that's on being ten times worse. I become aggressively unhungry, setting the bowl down. When I turn to Obyzouth her face is so expressionless I consider jumping out the window.

"Are you.... Do you feel alright?" I ask.

"Why wouldn't I?" Quickly, her facial muscles contract in confusion. Mine follow.

"Your....face is...." I try to find a way to word it that wouldn't be offensive, but decide to shut up before I offend a demon.

"Unnaturally beautiful? Danger- oh." She has some sort of realization, turning her whole body towards me. The couch itself shifts a few inches. "When demons are relaxed or... doing nothing, we don't move at all. Something about being able to control every single nerve and muscle from head to toe. Cool, right?"

"Uhm...."

"Right.... you still think like a human." She stands up, helping herself to Rhea's pantry. "What the fuck is a kale chip?"

"I don't... I'm not sure." I shake my head, still bothered by her comment.

I watched her kill an infant. Granted- the thing was going to deserve it at some point, but still. At that moment in time it was innocent. I've tried to reason with myself these past few minutes and justify her actions: If the families of that infant's future trafficking victims were let in and given the choice, would it be more ethical? Would they think they were going crazy or instantly scream and turn away- unlike me? Would they faint just upon seeing Obyzouth utilize her gift?

Then again, I suppose you can't hold a demon to the same ethical standards of a human. I haven't bothered to ask, but I imagine she's.. much older than anybody alive today.

The way she killed it without hesitation.....

She's probably done this over a billion times by now, I can't hold that against her. Anybody can get used to anything if they do it enough.

"Do you have those yellow.... moist pastry things with the...sugary filling?" She asks, Rhea's junk food bag crinkling.

"Twinkies?"

"Sure- that."

"When... when did you have a Twinkie?" I raise an eyebrow. Demons can eat?

"The demon of desire is quite fond so we keep a few boxes around." She shrugs.

"Well... we don't have twinkies but.... There are cupcakes in that box. Wouldn't....." My voice trails off as my brain fixates on that little bit of information. "Demon of desire? Wouldn't that just be Lucifer?"

"Lucifer is not a demon." She crosses her arms.

"Right, I know but-"

"He is an archangel- still. A fallen one but...."

"Then what's the difference?"

"He has a fucking soul. Us demons don't and-" She tears the cupcake box open. "As a rule of thumb never call him a demon and never mention Jesus. Those are his only triggers."

"Why?" I continue pressing, human curiosity getting the better of me.

Why would the devil be so bothered by a man he's never met?