The Devil & Me

Chapter Seven: The Sixth Ring

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I started having nightmares every single night. Tonight, I remembered one. Cassius Ambrose, with goat horns and feathered angel wings, sat at my feet. And he said, "if you let me, I'd do anything to you." But those white wings were stained in blood. And I knew immediately the things he could do were terrible, devilish things. I knew not to call on strange powers, and I knew not to beg the beings that live in the dark. Yet he was still bowing, head on my thighs, as if I was the one in control. I knew I was not. I knew from the way he looked at me that he could've destroyed me, if only he was able. But since he wasn't, he was satisfied to just have me instead.

Then I woke up. My phone rang. Instead of messages from drunk boys, I found pictures of the "terrors" going on around the school. In the night, an unidentified group of boys vandalized someone's Porsche, breaking all the windows, the mirrors, and spraying it down with red paint, before sticking the dick picture he sent me to the interior. Another person had a presentation in their science class, only to find it had been deleted in favor of the dumbass snaps they sent me. Unfortunately for them, their teacher's computer froze, saving the images and the words, "it's short now, but I'm a grower," for the next class to see. One boy was beaten in the stairwell, in the blind spot where the cameras couldn't see, and one girl had a dead rat stuffed in her locker. Yes. When I read this, I had to double back and check again. But it was true. Christ, the Ambrose Devil was vicious.

On a blustery December morning, I picked up my coat and my backpack and walked with Luce to my first-period class. Jack had "mysteriously" been removed from my English group. He'd opted to do his own project. I guess he was getting bullied so badly that he withdrew from the world. Serves him right.

The hallways of the main school building were sparse. It was strange; it wasn't that early. By now, there were usually plenty of people, sipping coffee by their lockers, talking in the time before the bell rang. Luce ran a hand through her braids, now vibrant Christmas red and green. "Is there a field trip today?" she asked.

"I don't think so." We turned to go down the main staircase when we were caught in a storm of traffic. People were pressed body to body, stuck together like strips of licorice in a pack. "What is going on?" I asked around. A girl strained her neck to see whatever was going on below. I looked at her. "Hello?"

"Cassius Ambrose is beating the life out of Giovanni Marquet."

"Jack Lyns's friend?"

But the girl was too engrossed to answer. If the Ambrose Devil was fighting Giovanni Marquet, who was attached at the hip to Jack Lyns, then he may as well have been conducting a whole purge on the old money boys. Looking back on it, all his attacks were on them. He wasn't lying when he said he felt it was his responsibility to whip them into shape. I wondered if he would stop here, and he didn't, who he would fight next.

"Come on." Luce grabbed my hand and pulled us through the crowd. When you saw a girl nearly six feet tall, wearing platforms that made her three inches taller, you tended to want to move. We came to a stop three steps up, with a clear view of the fight circle and everyone standing in it. Leon was at the fringe, watching with a cellphone recording and that slimy smile on his face. Ambrose Devil was on the ground, tearing into Giovanni Marquet with his left first, and Giovanni—good God! Someone had to get him out of there before Ambrose Devil killed him. Blood painted the ground around his head. He groaned and moaned, but nobody came to help him. Everyone stared mystified, including me. I thought Jack Lyns's defeat was bad. But this was worse. And what had he done...

You probably don't even want to know, I told myself. With these types, born with platinum spoons and raised with no manners, it was none of my business what they did to each other.

"Please," Giovanni cried out. "Please, I—" Ambrose Devil backhanded him across the face, before standing and wiping his fingers on a towel Leon brought him.

"Listen here, all of you. In the last few months, there have been some sour behaviors. Moral indiscretions. Mishaps. Your ancestors would be ashamed of you. They built this school, sent their generations here, and you want to bring your nonsense here to destroy it. Leave the scholarships students be—maybe even asked to be tutored and pass your math class." He looked at Giovanni. "And didn't I tell you to stop sending messages?"

Giovanni gripped the floor and slid backward, even through his own blood."I didn't think you meant it. I didn't—"

"I tell you to stop and you stop. This is my school. So why were you sending lewd pictures to my girl?"

"Your girl? I just sent them to Camille!"

Ambrose Devil put his head back and laughed. "We're talking about the same person."

If somehow, you could hear the turning of heads and the blinking of eyes, then in this moment, it would've been very, very loud. Luce gripped my arm. "Is he talking about you?" she asked. I couldn't respond. My whole body had broken into a cold sweat. A shudder had my teeth clacking against each other. His girl? His girl?

"No," I said, turning away. But the crowd had closed shut like a brick wall, and I couldn't force my way up.

"Where is she? Camille, come here." I pushed harder, but now the crowd worked to push me backward. I almost tripped down the stairs, before Luce grabbed my shirt. "There she is."

Ambrose Devil walked forward, and the girls in front of me ducked out of the way as his bloody hand reached out and looked for me. I twisted, but he reached me first and pulled me off the stairs.

"Did I resolve it enough?" he whispered, eyes sparkling. His palm left a rust-red print on my school blouse as he held my waist. I watched the horrified eyes of the crowd before me. Luce was trying to fight to get to the bottom of the step, as were the teachers, and the principal. He rubbed his mouth against my ear. "Did I?"

Before I could answer, the principal wrenched him away, and a teacher pulled me in the other direction. The crowd scattered, and the hall fell into chaos as people ran into each other, past each other, and maybe over each other. Violence had come to Fortuna. And now—dear god—I'd been swept up in the center.