In the Dark of Night – Part 6

Things have gotten pretty bleak in the United States.

As a general rule, I try to remain apolitical. It’s easier to care for my mental health that way. Protecting my mental health has become a full time job, however.

And…

That protection is failing.

I am not going silently into the night, however. I have already aggressively scheduled appointments with a new mental health provider, and (if deemed necessary) I will begin a new medication regimen.

Being an author is a never-ending education, but the most important thing it has done is blown away any doubts I once had about aggressively caring for my mental health. I now act, swiftly and without shame, because there simply isn’t anything to feel shame about. You wouldn’t shame a cancer patient for dealing with a tumor. Likewise, you shouldn’t try to shame yourself (nor let others shame you) just because your treatment isn’t the same as others.

In this instance, I implore you to be like me. Drop any feelings of shame. Attack the problem before it grows beyond your ability to deal with it.

Okay, I’m stepping off my soap box. However! I am shaking an admonitory finger as I do so.  This is important. I will be bringing it up again. Especially now.

In the Dark of Night – Part 6

My left ribs hurt but the pain distracted from the fear pooling in my belly.

I whirled my nun-chuck in my right hand, but the light they streamed had dimmed. It was all I could do to keep magic flowing into the weapon. My determination was bolstered by the sight of the enormous hole the demon had blasted through the bathroom wall. If I failed here, dozens of people were going to die.

The demon was trying to lumber to its feet. It was a slow process, the hooves and heads bobbing about like a drunkard. They were clearly punch-drunk, an ancient brawler who’d taken one too many blows but had long ago forgotten how to quit. II grinned tightly at the beasts’ woozy progress. I detested violence, but I did take pride in a job well done.

With a roar like a wounded titan, what was left of the three-headed beast charged at me. It was a blind charge, less a guided strike and more of a bull-rush towards the stalls. I gritted my teeth and flung myself to my right. I was boxing myself in, but my ribs meant that any further dodging to the left was right out.

My chest was agony, the contact with the ground replacing my chest with an inferno. A tortured moan escaped my lips, but the sound went past a smile on the way out.

I had managed to evade triple-headed doom.

The demon smashed into the stalls, steel and ceramic flying and then freezing much as the wall had before it. The sound was deafening, the second brutal blast in as many minutes. The beast was in no better shape than I. The already smashed head took the brunt of the charge, and was nothing more than meaty paste by the time it slammed into the far wall of the stalls. The center head was the same as it had been upon arrival. The left-most head was free of damage, tossing about in pain, howling in its anger. I pushed myself to my feet, dodging floating rubble as I made my way towards the cacophony.

My nun-chuck smashed down on the third head with all the force I could muster.

I was screaming as I connected with demonic flesh. The force of the blow made my arm go numb. My chest, already on fire, became too much for me to bear. I fell backwards, pushing debris through the air as I fell backwards across the floor underneath the sink. I vomited as I landed, the spray camouflaged by the atrocious tile. My weapon slid across the floor towards my strewn about possessions.

For the second time, the lurid glow of a summoning portal filled the enclosed space.

The sickly glow of the eldritch portal backlit the contents of my stomach, but I had sent the demon packing. Again. The demon slunk back to the pit with its tail between its legs. Azazel would be furious; first with the demon for failing and then with the warlock for almost destroying such a prized asset. The thought made me chuckle weakly.

The glow of the summoning circle grew, making spots appear behind my closed eyelids. I almost threw up again at the intensity of the radiance. Then the glow faded, becoming softer and softer until it had vanished completely.

I was alone in the unnatural quiet of the time-frozen bathroom.

Even with my eyes shut, I knew what would be happening. It was the same thing that had occurred last night. The bathroom would be reconstructing itself. In total silence, bricks would be returning to their rightful place in the wall. Mortar, blasted to powder by the assault, would return to their lonely vigil. The obnoxious tiles would hang themselves upon the walls, silent testament to me sending the demon packing.

The only thing that remained was pain. I had done the breaking of my ribs. Magic ensured that my victory meant the demon had never been. The same could not be said for the consequences of my actions. I sobbed quietly as I lay on the floor next to a spray of sick and my strewn about possessions. My shirt, my wonderful shirt, was festooned with rips and tears. I’d have to find some new way to bribe Jake. It might just be easier to get a new shirt.

Much as I would like to complain about where I was, the only real emotion coursing through me was gratitude. My fellow students were safe. Even Karen. There would be no explosion for the police to try and explain away. No grieving parents who would never again hold their children.

I was on the verge of passing out when I heard the lock scraped back open. The frozen sink flowed once again as time grabbed the wheel and drove everything onward.

I lay on the floor, time flowing in jumps and starts as I ducked in and out of consciousness. The bell sounded. The ringing came to me as though from a great distance, muted and unreal. I tried to gather my wits and push myself to my feet, but my body had decided that it had moved enough. So I lay there, my chest on fire and my brain full of fog.

That was how Officer Davis found me a few moments later when he cautiously pushed the door open.

Spewfully,

The Unsheathed Quill