World Eater

8

“WHAT ARE YOU, SOME KIND OF OCCULTIST?”

Miss Hastur smiled, a gentle grin that made Alzar’s hands tremble. She absentmindedly pressed a pen to a sheet of paper, vibrant eyes burning on Alzar as she scribbled in circles. “Mr. Lorne, there are things beyond belief in this world. I do not believe in a singular God like most people in this school, but of guardians, monsters, and spirits. I believe there are grander things happening just above our mortal heads, higher powers waging more important wars than us.”

“Shut up!” Alzar barked, slapping his hands on her desk. Something brewed in his chest, or perhaps his head? “I'm already crazy enough, I don't need to be wondering whether all this crap is real or not!”

Miss Hastur remained composed, moving her hands to her lap. “You would only react this strongly if you thought there was a possibility I was right.”

Alzar’s heart dropped into his stomach, a cold feeling spreading through his body. He blinked, unable to speak or move.

Miss Hastur glanced at the clock on her desk. “Ah, it seems our session is over. I will see you tomorrow, Alzar.”

“Goodbye, Miss Hastur,” Alzar breathed, staring at her like she was a foreign entity.

She shook her head. “You can just call me Fancy.”

----

Alzar’s fingers flicked down the screen of his cell phone, scrolling through a social media post. Sitting in front of the school on a bench, he was protected from the hot sun as he waited for Sariel. All around him, students had broken off into cliques, but the lump in Alzar’s throat kept him glued to the bench, off in a corner. He was more comfortable this way.

A familiar black Altima pulled into the parking lot, and Alzar stood, pulling out of one his earbuds.

“You see that guy that just pulled in?” Alzar paused, a snippet of two freshmen’s conversation hitting his ears. He wavered, eager to eavesdrop.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“My mom told me that guy’s crazy, like the kinda crazy they put you on pills for,” the shorter boy murmured, a wicked smile on his lips, as if he was talking about some villain on a film instead of Alzar’s uncle. “He had some kinda psycho attack at a PTA event. Started screaming about hearing stuff. My mom told me to stay away from him.”

“Probably because he's gonna shoot up the school or something,” the other freshman snorted.

“You don't know anything!” Alzar suddenly screamed, flinging down his backpack. His cheeks were red, tears burning in the corner of his eyes. “Sariel wouldn't hurt anybody! He can't help that he’s sick!”

“Mr. Lorne, that kind of behaviour is not acceptable!” a teacher cried behind him, and Alzar froze.

All eyes were on him. He felt like he was going to throw up. Shaking his head, Alzar grabbed his backpack and darted into the parking lot, slamming the car door as he fell inside.

“Alzar, are you okay? Your face is red,” Sariel said, reaching across the center console and touching Alzar’s hand.

Alzar pulled his head up, staring at Sariel’s dull, cloudy eyes. He looked like he had just crawled out of bed. Alzar felt his arm spasm.

“Those kids were making fun of you,” Alzar growled, “I wanted to defend you but...but…”

“It's not your responsibility to defend me, Alzar,” Sariel murmured sadly, his voice even, “I'm sorry that happened.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”