Saving Them by Viola Tempest

Author:Viola Tempest
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Viola Tempest Publishing

Chapter 7

BELLA NOVA’S POV

I can’t stop seeing it.

I regret, immensely, having agreed to do anything with Draven. And still, I wonder if Draven is even real.

“Is it possible that… I mean, can we talk more about hallucinations?”

Dr. Schultz nods, taking a sip of his coffee and putting his pen down.

“Ms. Nova… I think I do need to acknowledge the irregularity of this circumstance. Are you struggling with the medication? With the current dosage? I do have flexibility in my schedule for instances like this, but I wasn’t expecting to see you until next week.”

I scratch an itch behind my neck.

I can’t stop seeing it.

Lamb to a slaughter, lamb to a slaughter, lamb to a slaughter. And so many times in my life, I was the lamb to a slaughter. There are so many things becoming abundantly clear to me as I think about it more. That teacher’s assistant that my mom had gotten fired—was she also a demon, possessed? Are female demons gentler?

And what about the other boys? What about all the strange instances in my life, where strangers got a bit too close or waiters lingered a bit too long, and my mom barked or snapped or pulled me up by the elbow to lead me away? Were they also just demons trying to get something from me?

What do they want?

Except I’m worried that I do know what they want. Draven has made it clear that he wants his family released from the Underworld, but the research I did at the library a few hours ago doesn’t make it seem that simple.

Portals are easy to get through once they’re open. For millennia, people have been sent to the depths of Hell. They’re packed in there, like sardines in a can, ready to burst out of the first open portal. How did Draven even get out without more people escaping? How had the other demons?

There are some things they know that we don’t. They, the demons that is, know the workarounds that humans cannot understand. They know, too, the politics of Hell. The way they must please their lord, Lucifer.

But do they know what we know? Do they know about how we use pentagrams for protection, how yellow and color and florals and happiness are their kryptonite, how a little essence of lemon may drive them mad? Do they know this? Are they prepared for it?

I’m pedaling through these thoughts, and Schultz is still looking at me, head tilted. He wants me to answer him. But I don’t know how.

Because even through all this research and all these realizations, I’m hoping with my entire being that this is all just a manifestation of my guilt. That I’ve only broken through my own consciousness and gone into psychosis because I just feel awful for killing Brick. I’m hoping that I created this demon thing, this whole story, just to make everything make sense.

I’m hoping I’m just insane.

“I just needed someone to talk to. Maybe the pills aren’t working.”

Schultz nods. “Okay. Tell me how you have been feeling over the past few days.

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