RED HOLLOW ROAD
By Chloe York
Chapter 1
Instead of sleeping with Cassandra Smith, I killed the devil in front of her. Cool air whistled through the basement’s ceiling vents, tightening the bare skin on my stomach while Cassandra mumbled some confused protestations over my sudden departure from the sofa and her arms. I couldn’t hear her words, not over the familiar snarls and thunks coming from the ornate wooden trunk beside the long-defunct air hockey table. I raced to the trunk—to him—my prepared excuses dying before they passed my lips. I couldn’t worry what Cassandra might think. There wasn’t enough time.
I found my shirt on the ground and wrestled myself back into it. Upstairs, the phone was ringing.
“What are you doing, Blythe?” Cassandra asked, crossing to me while she fiddled with her eyebrow ring. Shuddering at a violent jolt from the trunk, I finished buttoning my shirt with clumsy fingers and regarded Cassandra with as much calm as I could.
Gorgeous Cassandra Smith with her blue hair and the little birthmark on her temple I had long fantasized pressing my lips against. And now she was here. Actually here with me after all the anxious texts, stammered flirtations in front of my locker and invented excuses to see her after school. After all the agonizing uncertainty, she was actually here. This perfect moment, our first kiss, my first time laid bare with someone I cared so much about and I wasn’t even present for it. The entirety of me was in the shuddering casket with the red-skinned monster. I wouldn’t let him ruin this. He’d taken enough from me already.
Inspired, I gestured for Cassandra to kneel with me on the thin carpet. After all, there was always a chance she could see him and if she could see him, then she would understand why I never went out, why I kept everyone at a distance and why I was so afraid—
But beneath that fear, a selfish part of me longed for her—for everyone—to know that I had given up my life to protect theirs. That I was a damn hero. Because without Mom and without me, our devil would take the world.
“Can you hear that?” I asked, voice shrill. I cleared my throat.
Her shoulder brushed mine as she joined me in front of the trunk. After a beat, she shook her head. “What should I be hearing?”
“I’m going to open this,” I said, placing a hand on the trunk’s lid. Even in the dark room, the wooden surface gleamed with fresh oil. I was certain Mom had polished it that day. Stuck at home monitoring our devil all the time with nothing better to do, she cleaned incessantly. “I need you to hang back and give me some space. And whatever you um… Whatever you see, don’t be scared. Okay?”
Cassandra kissed the corner of my mouth as she rose.
“All right, I’ll play. As long as we can get back to…”
I stopped hearing her. The devil’s shrieks were louder than I had ever heard them before. The coffin’s lid flew open and slammed back down, making Cassandra jump.
“Get back!” I shouted and in the same breath, I pried a pointed shard of wood from the nearest cigar box on a shelf above my head and heaved the trunk’s lid open, facing the devil as I had done so many times before. While the sight of him awake should have instilled a primal fear that hastened the killing, I could never resist taking a moment to study him before I did.
The monster’s skin was a pinkish red, a color I used to love before I learned of his existence. Multiple horns crowned his bald head and he had pointed ears like an elf or a pixie. He had no nose. Instead, he breathed through two slits above his tusked mouth. Thick dark fur covered his lower half, the hair tapering off around the ankles. His eyes were entirely black, inky and gleaming. As those eyes took in my approach, I could see myself reflected in them, Cassandra close behind me with a dazed look on her lovely face.
“I don’t see anything,” she said.
My heart panged. No. Of course she couldn’t see him.
The monster’s bisected tongue stretched behind his sharp teeth as another animal cry emanated from his throat.
“What are you holding?” Cassandra asked.
The devil thrashed as I grasped one of his arms and pushed it aside to reveal a black X tattooed across the monster’s chest.
“Blythe?” she pressed.
Before he could stop me, I plunged the stake through the X, careful to release my grip before the stake glowed orange and disintegrated into black ash. The devil’s scream was equal parts animal and human, a sound I could never wash out of my head. That scream lived inside my chest, a constant buzzing itch. I never asked Mom if she felt it, too. Like the headaches she always got when our devil awakened, we must have experienced him differently.
With a shudder, his chest caved in, his skin dried out, and every bit of him shriveled like a mummy. Within moments, the monster lay still—a desiccated carcass in a pretty carved trunk inside the basement of a middle class, suburban home.
After it was over, I stood panting over him, my blurred vision snagging on the couch over Cassandra’s shoulder. The demon’s emaciated husk shifted, making a leathery scraping sound I flinched against. Eyes locked with Cassandra’s, throat bobbing, I reached down and closed the lid, sealing my monster away until the next time he woke.
Cassandra blinked while I held my breath. While I’d put my devil to sleep countless times, no one had ever seen me do it. I knew Dad had watched Mom stake our monster on several ill-timed occasions, but he had no memory of any of them. Whatever magic made the red demon invisible to anyone outside of some old bloodline dating back to my great-great grandmother was very good at keeping secrets. And tonight, that suited me just fine. It meant Cassandra and I could pick up where we’d left off, like nothing happened.
“Um,” I started, then stopped.
“Were we just—” Cassandra murmured with a tilt of her head. She hugged her shoulders, studying me with an odd sort of blankness.
“Sorry about that,” I said to the floor. I tousled my hair, dark and curly with some fuschia highlights I’d gotten to impress Cassandra, a feeble attempt at edginess.
“About what?” she asked.
I inhaled, forcing my gaze up.
“Nothing,” I smiled.
Everything was fine. We were going to be fine.
But when I approached Cassandra, she stepped back, eyes flicking to the stairs leading up to the living room. We’d been up there a short while ago eating pizza rolls and watching bad reality TV before the power went out and we moved to the basement to trip the breakers. Devil or not, we’d soon forgotten about the power outage, opting to paw at each other in the dark. With Mom at work all night, this evening should have been perfect. But then, like my devil sensed how much this night meant to me, he decided to wake up and ruin everything.
“We should slow down,” Cassandra said, leaning forward to straighten her stockings.
“Oh,” I said, breath hitching. “Okay.”
Before I had a chance to get the flush out of my cheeks or offer any more monosyllabic apologies, the front door clattered open and Mom burst into the basement, flawless blonde curls bouncing as she clomped down the steps.
“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” she snarled. Cassandra fidgeted, shuffling her stockinged feet on the carpet. “Why are all the lights off?”
“The power went out,” I said.
Shoving past us, she gave the devil’s casket a meaningful look as she crossed to the breaker box. My breath hitched at the sight of my bra on the floor. Subtle as I could, I kicked it under the couch and out of Mom’s sight.
The door to the breaker box gave a metallic thud as she opened it and switched the breakers on. There were several clicks and beeps from upstairs as all of the kitchen appliances came back on and the television blared to life. Mom switched on a lamp. I blinked at the sudden luminescence, feeling my face grow hotter. Thankfully, I had my dad’s olive complexion instead of Mom’s fair one. Not that anything ever made her blush.
Finally noticing Cassandra, Mom plastered on one of her beauty queen smiles.
“Hi, there! I’m Andie,” she said, opening her arms wide. She never shook hands. She hugged.
“Um, hello!” Cassandra replied, her hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. Mom’s energy
made you want to match it. “Is that short for Andrea? Cause I have an aunt named Andrea and she likes people to call her Andie. Mine’s Cassandra.”
Mom grimaced and rolled her eyes. “My full name is Andromeda. My daddy loved Greek mythology. Andromeda, leader of humanity. I never liked it. Your name’s Greek too, isn’t it?”
“I think so,” Cassandra replied.
Still holding Cassandra’s shoulders, Mom looked over her while I died of embarrassment. She knew I liked girls even before I did. Accepting my pansexual identity was nothing. A shrug instead of a gasp. But this was the first time I’d ever dated anyone and Mom was appropriately, humiliatingly ecstatic for me.
“You’re as cute as a bug’s ear,” Mom said. “I’m sorry if I spoiled y’all’s evening. I just get paranoid when I can’t get ahold of my baby girl.”
Mom shot me a look that I withered beneath.
“So do you have to go back to work now, or…?” I asked.
“Nope. Got off early. Thought I’d catch up on my reading. But I’ll get out of y’all’s way.”
She gave Cassandra another squeeze.“It was so nice to meet you, honey.”
Then she padded upstairs, giving me another hard look on the way.
“I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “She can be a little intense.”
“No, no,” said Cassandra. “Your mom’s nice.”
“Well listen, would you um… We can put a movie on. I’m sure Mom’ll be asleep any minute. The night shift always wipes her out.”
“Actually, I… I better get going,” Cassandra said, avoiding my eyes.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“No, yeah! I just feel really tired all of a sudden.”
“Oh, um… Okay. I understand.”
Unbidden, my mind went back to Cassandra’s lips on mine, her fingers on my bare skin, touching me in places I’d never been touched in my whole eighteen years of life. I pushed my lust down, defeated and confused, and walked her upstairs.
“Text me tomorrow if you want to meet at the bookstore or something,” I tried. “I’m free all weekend.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she said, staring at the ground. With great hope, I kissed her cheek. That’s when she finally looked at me. Her expression told me everything. Whatever happened between us had ended no sooner than it had begun. Whatever she’d seen or remembered I would never know, but one thing was certain.
Cassandra didn’t want me anymore.
Mom stayed up with me until I fell asleep, rubbing my back and letting me sob into her shoulder.
“You’ll never forget your first heartbreak, baby girl,” she said softly. “But I promise, it’ll get easier.”
“Does it still hurt when you think about Dad?” I sniffed.
I wanted honesty from her, not the empty cliches all mothers told their jilted daughters.
“Yes,” she said with no hesitation. “I will always miss our old life. I’ll always miss him.”
“It’s always gonna be like this, isn’t it?” I said quietly, dread growing in my heart to displace the heavy ache there. “We can’t have both.”
She knew what I meant. As long as we had our devil, we couldn’t have a normal life. A part of us would always remain hidden from any partner we chose. I supposed I should be grateful for learning it from Cassandra, like I should have learned it from my parents’ failed marriage. This life with my monster was a life I could never share.
And I knew that for once, Mom had no comforting words for me. Because she had none for herself.
