Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  I sigh before answering. “This was her idea.”

  Alyssa arches a disbelieving eyebrow. “It was her idea not to go out with you after she paid two hundred dollars for exactly that?”

  “Yes,” comes out as a petulant hiss. “She said I was to wait until I wanted to ask her out.”

  Her eyes bulge. “Then why haven’t you?” she spits through clenched teeth.

  “I can’t just ask her out,” I argue.

  “Why not?” Alyssa screams.

  “Are you really this dense?” I challenge. “This is a woman who wants to be wooed.”

  Alyssa stifles a laugh.

  “Laugh all you want, but Charlotte is an old-fashioned soul, most muses are. I have to get to know her–”

  “You already know her!”

  I roll my eyes at her argument and glance around. While we are off the beaten path, there are a few students within earshot of her screams.

  “This is supposed to be easy!” Alyssa continues with no care to prying ears. “You step in, sweep her off her feet, and voilà, our plan is back on track! I can’t get to him on the path we need him on with her in the way! You know her likes and dislikes, why are you making this so damn hard? The longer you wait, the more difficult your task becomes, which, in turn, makes mine impossible!”

  I throw my head back and roar at the sky in frustration. “Then trust that I’m using that knowledge to accomplish our mission. I can’t just barge into your dorm room, grab her by her hair, and drag her out! I need a reason to talk to her, preferably, when her friends surround her, but not in passing on campus. They have to like me, or I won’t stand a chance.”

  “Then what do you plan to do?” Alyssa huffs as she crosses her arms over her chest and pops her hip like the college girls we live with.

  “I plan to get to know her as Henry, the boy she doesn’t know, but wants to. Do I know her? Yes, I know her better than she knows herself, which is why I need a reason to talk to her. You want me to take her out?”

  Alyssa rolls her eyes, but nods her head.

  “Good, then find a way to get us together,” I demand, “with the friends, so they’ll endorse me when she asks their opinion about me. That’s the only way this works! That’s the only way we keep her out of his arms!”

  Chapter 4

  I forced my way into your life…

  “Look who I found while getting us hot dogs!” Alyssa’s voice hollers above the sounds of screaming students and the brass section of the band. The football team managed to pull out a first down.

  Three sets of eyes leave the field to peer up at me, but only two of the faces smile. The other furrows his brow and glares. I bite my lip to keep from laughing at his open jealousy. This is the guy who holds the power to tip the balance of good and evil?

  “Hey,” slides off Charlotte’s tongue as I take a seat on the bleacher bench beside her and hand her the other hot dog I’m carrying.

  Alyssa steps over us to squeeze into the nonexistent space between Charlotte and the boy sitting between her and Paige.

  “Hey,” I answer right as Alyssa jostles Charlotte into me, putting her face right in mine. Our eyes lock and she inhales sharply. “Only mustard, just like you like it.”

  “How do you know that?” she gasps. “I didn’t tell Alyssa.”

  Damn it! You’re not supposed to know that! I’m saved by the aggressiveness of her friend.

  “Who’s your friend?” Paige calls out from the other end of their small group.

  I glance over Charlotte’s head to catch a huge grin filling the redhead’s face. The boy’s jaw is set in a grim expression.

  Charlotte blushes, a beautiful rose color lit by the shining sun of this beautiful day. The thought shocks me. Since when do you find beauty in this prison you were sentenced to millions of years ago?

  She turns and gestures to the girl who accompanied her to the pledge auction. “Henry, this is my friend and pledge sister, Paige Lambeau.” Paige offers me a vigorous wave before Charlotte moves on to the boy. “This,” and I can hear the warm smile in her voice, “is my best friend, Wesley Breaux.” The blond boy shifts his gaze to the girl at my side, desire and love oozing from every pore in his skin, and she is none the wiser. “And you know, Alyssa Hebert,” Charlotte finishes before turning back to me and flashing a bright smile. “How do you and Alyssa know each other, anyway?”

  Alyssa catches my eye and smirks, leaving it to me to make up our false history, because the truth is not an option.

  How do I know Alyssa? Well, for one, that actually isn’t her name. I don’t even know what her real name is, to be honest, though I’ve known her since right after the fall. We weren’t friends before I fell, and I wouldn’t call us friends now, but I report to her. I am the dagger to her cloak, the method to her madness, and I am powerless to stop it. Not because she is stronger than me, but because I don’t want to. I want to watch you all burn. I want to see your kind punished for the hell my life has become, all because I didn’t want to take sides.

  Do I say any of that? No. Instead, what comes out of my mouth is, “Alyssa and I have common friends through the fraternity.”

  That seems to appease Charlotte and she nods her head in acceptance. “How have you been?” The emotion behind her words is the awkwardness of people who haven’t seen each other for years not weeks, or even that one of saddened exes.

  The nudge of my shoulder to hers accompanies my broad smile. “You bought me for a reason, my dear, and I think you’ve been avoiding me since.”

  She casts her eyes downward to her lap, that blush erupting in her cheeks again, and I notice for the first time in our five-year history that it changes the shade of her ears as well. “Maybe I am,” she confesses in a whisper I’m not meant to hear over the cheers of the fans and the notes of the brass section.

  I lean into her ear. “Why?” I whisper.

  She flinches from the question, her shocked gaze darting over to me. “You heard me?” she gasps.

  “I tuned in,” I say to cover myself. “I’m interested in what you have to say.”

  Bright green, doe eyes fill my vision when she turns her head. The amazed wonder swimming in their depths clouds my mind and the noise of the football game vanishes. I exist in a vacuum, with her as my only companion.

  “Why?” the inflection of her question matches the emotions shining out of her eyes. “You know nothing about me.”

  I inch closer, unable to break the hold she has on me. “I know enough to admit that you intrigue me. Charlotte, if any other girl had purchased me, we would have gone out by now, had a good time, maybe shared a kiss.”

  She arches an eyebrow at that, and I can’t help but chuckle. The wind sweeps the hairs not secured by her ponytail across her face. I’m tempted to brush them aside, but fight the urge.

  She chews on her bottom lip. “And then what?”

  I shrug, a crooked smile turning the corners of my mouth up. “Honestly?”

  She nods in assent.

  I lean back into her ear and her body tenses under my breaths as they waft over her skin. “Probably nothing.”

  Her laughter peals through the stadium, joining the cheers of the school for the team’s touchdown. Everyone around us is on their feet. Plastic cups fly through the air. Yet, none of it distracts me from enjoying the melody of her humor. Joy radiates from her face, which is upturned towards the heavens. Her eyes are squeezed shut with moisture in the corners. Her nose crinkles and her whole body shakes with her amusement. I’ve never witnessed a more pure emotion.

  Her friend Wesley hears her and arches back to look down at her. “What so funny, Char?”

  Her face pinches for a brief moment before a hand shields her eyes from the sun as she looks over at her friend. “I hate that.” The tone is a mix of a tease and a warning.

  He flashes a friendly smile and shrugs off her frustration before turning back to the game. Charlotte takes a deep breath and huffs it out. The sound catches Alyssa’s a
ttention and she turns towards me, “Have you asked her yet?” clear in her expression.

  I shake my head and recapture Charlotte’s attention by cupping my hand around her cheek. “Char-lotte.” I put purposeful emphasis on the last syllable of her name. “How about you and I get out of here?”

  She purses her lips and glances over her shoulder in Paige’s direction. As if connected by something I don’t understand, Paige turns, eyes sweeping over me, then nods. Charlotte focuses back on me. “Yes, that would be nice.”

  Chapter 5

  You awakened something within me…

  We leave the high-decibel level chaos of the football game and wander through the near empty campus. The second we dumped our hot dogs in the waste bin at the base of the stadium stairs, Charlotte stuffed her hands in her pockets. She hasn’t taken them out. We walk up the hill outside the stadium and make our way to the Indian Mounds, neither of us saying a word.

  “What were you doing in the student section?” she asks after we reach the peak of one.

  I take a seat and reach out a hand for her. She smiles at it, but sinks into the space next to me without taking it. The distance muffles the echoes of the game.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you frat boys purchase seats along the thirty to fifty yard lines to take all the simpering sorority girls on dates?”

  “Tell me how you really feel,” I laugh and am delighted when she joins in. “Are you pledging the only sorority absent of simpering girls?”

  She shakes her head. “Oh, there are plenty of those among my would-be sisters,” she counters as she draws her knees to her shoulders and wraps her arms around them. “But, there are plenty of those outside the Greek life as well. It amazes me the number of women on campus, in this day and age, who come to school to find a husband more than forge their own way.”

  I twist and give her an appraising once over. She’s too young to be so jaded. I fought to make her life easy, void of the petty dramas most teenagers face. I trailed her through high school, deterring boys who hoped to manipulate and use her. There is a purity to her, an innocence that demands protection. Why did you accept the role of protector in the shadows?

  “You sound bitter for a freshman,” I finally say.

  She smiles and fidgets with her hair. “Not bitter, just disappointed. College isn’t quite what I expected so far.”

  “What did you expect?”

  She shrugs, drops her hair, and lays her head on her knees, turning her face to me. “Higher learning, I guess. I certainly didn’t expect the same games from high school.”

  I chuckle in spite of myself. I loathe mankind. In time, she’ll learn that even years don’t change a person, that generations don’t change a species. Yet, I find it humorous that she thinks a few months can make such a difference in the lives and minds of children.

  “That’s naïve, even for a girl like you.”

  Her head snaps up and her eyes bore into mine. “A girl like me?” she snaps. “What is that supposed mean?”

  What did I mean by that? I keep my mouth closed while I think. I’ve spent my immortal life on this dismal planet, following orders and manipulating every political coup since the dawn of man. I may wear a different face each time, I may whisper in a different ear, but I have always been the same exiled angel. An angry, vengeful creature dead-set on seeing the rule of man come to an end. The consistency of my orders to influence the key player to chaos, all to keep true peace from ruling the world, grounds my existence. It used to be as simple as whispering the right words in the ear of the right assassin. When the world was small, getting rid of the right man, or woman, made all the difference and could break a nation. The last few hundred years, where no one individual holds that much sway, require more decisive and drastic measures. Bombings, genocide, and more recently, biological warfare. The butterfly effect of any one act can last for generations.

  “Henry?”

  I leave the confines of my mind to focus back in on the girl sitting next to me. She’s not innocent, I tell myself. She’s not pure or good. No one is, so she can’t be. Every babe is born to selfishness. Sure, they know no better, but there it is. Life could start differently, with enough self-awareness to realize no one person’s needs outweigh another’s, but it doesn’t.

  “Is everything alright, Henry?”

  How is it that she is more concerned with me? “I’m fine, Charlotte,” I whisper, my voice having grown hoarse from the depth of my thoughts.

  She smiles, instantly lifting my spirits. “You aren’t one to play games, are you?”

  “Not with you, it seems.” The truth of my answer shocks even me. I hadn’t meant to give even that much away.

  A thoughtful expression engulfs her features. “What does that mean?”

  What does that mean? The question echoes inside my mind. I look out over the campus and watch the breeze rustle the magnolia trees. I’m a self-admitted gamer, not of electronics, but of real life. Everything I do is strategic. Everything has an ulterior motive. Nothing is what it appears to be, not even my face or my voice. It’s all a mask, a character, dependent on the role required. This muse before me wants a clean-cut gentleman, a romanticized version of class and morality that she probably read in some book. Had her tastes been different, then so would I.

  A hand cups my cheek, and she turns my face back to hers. “Who are you?” she asks, looking not only into my eyes, but also deep into my soul. “I mean, really?”

  Her acuity astounds me because I have no answer to that question. Who am I? What have I become and why have I become this? “Isn’t that the quest of the college student?” I say in an effort to deflect her from digging much deeper. “Aren’t we here to find ourselves? Learn about the world and our place in it?”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a philosopher,” she admits, “but I can see it now.”

  “How so?” I ask, getting swept up in the less dangerous conversation we are having.

  “There is an intensity about you, Henry. You’re a thinker, a watcher. You see everything, don’t you?”

  My heart beats in-sync with every word she utters. I have never thought of myself in those terms before. A thinking being. A seer. For the first time in my very long existence, I want to stop pretending to be someone, and actually be someone.

  Chapter 6

  Suicide might have been better…

  “Henry!” a woman shouts from behind me, just not the one I hoped to hear.

  I want to pretend I don’t hear her. The strength of her voice says she’s across the quad, and there is a cacophony of jabbering students between us. If I were human… The thought fades away, because bottom line, I’m not human, and she knows that.

  I stop walking to the building holding my next class, and turn to face her. Alyssa’s perfectly styled bob bounces with each casual step she takes. It bothers me the way time holds no meaning for her. Sure, it really holds none for me either, but that is beside the point. If you are going to shout from a few hundred feet away, then you should show more urgency in making your way over.

  “Where are you headed right now?” she skips over the pleasantries to ask.

  I roll my eyes and adjust the strap of my stupid backpack on my shoulder. I can’t wait for this mission to be over, or at least for Charlotte to outgrow schools and textbooks. I’d much rather carry a briefcase than a book bag.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I all but snarl. “Where does it look like I’m headed, Alyssa? To the movies?”

  The false pleasantness of the vapid expression she wears when slumming with the humans disappears. She steps up closer to me and hisses, “Don’t fuck with me, Henry. It’s been four days since the football game. Charlotte hasn’t stopped talking about you, which is somewhat working in my favor, as he bristles at the mere mention of your name. But, if you don’t make a move soon, then he might! Why haven’t you called her?”

  Some of the passersby turn to gawk at the petite girl snarling at
the boyish image I project, which is a good foot taller than she is and twice as thick. If they only knew, she is equivalent to a viper and eager to strike. Alyssa commands exiles–not because she is a superior being, as she is an exile herself–but because she is a ruthless being. Life means nothing to her. Freedom means everything.

  “I don’t have her number,” I hedge, which is stupid.

  She voices my following thought with malicious inflection. “You have my number!”

  I stuff my hands in my pockets to keep from punching her in the face. Bitchy freshman, or not, that won’t fly this deep in the south.

  Hostility wafts from her flesh as smoke from a fire. That threatening burn smolders beneath my skin. “You know the consequences of failure,” she seethes.

  My backpack hits the ground as I step up to her. “Go ahead!” I snap, the words drenched in my fury. “Do it!”

  Students stop in their routes to class and form around us, but leave a wide berth. Alyssa not only looks ready to kill, everything about her screams that she is capable of killing, and I know I’m not any less intimidating to these lesser creatures.

  “Burn me to ash, Alyssa! I wanted no part in this! Any of it!”

  There’s no risk to exposure if she does. Memory loss of the burning individual is the only side effect of using the ignes iudicii. They’ll all be frozen in place, forced to watch me implode into nothing, surrounded by the green flames of justice, and the second I blink out of existence, their lives will just return to normal. They won’t remember me, or the supernatural fire that erased me from the history books.

  A humorless laugh peals from her lips and echoes through the quad, maybe the entire campus. “I’ll not make it easy on you, you fucking coward! I may be a spiteful bitch, but I am not a stupid one. You will do as I say, or else–”

  “Or else what!” I cut her off, bumping my chest against hers.

  She stumbles back, eyes growing saucer wide with enraged shock. The images behind the eyes of a few of the surrounding students suggest they want to intervene, but they all seem to know better than to do so.