The Unfortunate Story of Roddy Mayhem by Julie Steimle (e ink manga reader .TXT) 📕

I looked to Spastic. I liked Spastic, but… Piranha really had been my anchor to the other half imps. And as the unflappable wonder, I knew he didn’t need me at all. And if Wispy did not come back, what reason did I really have to stay? I was failing most of my classes. I wasn’t a genius like Tom was. This life just wasn’t working. It was already so messed up.

I wanted to go back to my beach. I wanted to return to California where it was warm most of the time and I didn’t have to spend every day indoors. I wanted out.

Fourteen

When they released Spastic and myself from detention, I was in a dark state of mind. I’ll admit it. I was done. Done with Gulinger. Done with playing nice. Done with waiting for things to get better. Just done.

I said nothing when Mr. Wilderman lectured Spastic and me about ‘containing the rage’ and ‘controlling the imp-side of us’. I never had rage before here. I never really let loose with imps either until here. I hadn’t known that the imps could be my army until here. Meeting Tom had changed everything. And in the back of my head, I understood more how Tom was aptly named Trouble. Everything he touched cause trouble. I was happy in California. He had taken me away from it. Piranha was with me and on my side back then. Now, she was leaving me.

But then my mind went to Wispy. She had been miserable in the gang. Tortured. And I hadn’t known. No. I had been ignorant. I had been in the bliss of ignorance on a lot of things back then. And now my bliss was gone.

After the lecture, I returned to our dorm floor with Spastic. He seemed no worse for wear. He nearly skipped in his step on his way to his room—or perhaps to hang out with Quinn. I, however, trudged up the hallway into my room and kicked the door shut.

Morgan stared at me from where he was. Then, silently, he rose from his desk where he had been studying and walked to the door, opened it, and went out. Probably to tattle.

I no longer cared.

I swore. I cursed. Then I let out a raging storm of all the foul words I could think of. But that wasn’t enough. Pouncing on the mattress, I tore off all the blankets and dug out the remaining so-called ‘evidence’ those girls had stashed in my bed. Dropping all the stupid panties and bras as I would any garbage, I then ripped into the ceiling to see if there really were any of that trash in there.

Yep. There were. Along with porn that I never owned. It was stupid too, because most people if they wanted porn just got if off the internet. It wasn’t hard to find. And if I really had wanted to stash something like all of this, it would have been in Valhalla.

I shouted to the imps: “Give these back to their owners!”

Like pouncing jackals, the imps grabbed the magazines and lady’s underwear, tearing through the floors and walls to dump them. I then climbed into my hammock bag and curled up into a ball, wrapping my arms tightly across my stomach.

I didn’t bother with dinner.

I ditched class the morning after and went straight to Valhalla. I had wanted to see Wispy, but I didn’t know how to get to the hospital from there. Instead, I just felt like screaming. That Officer Johnson wasn’t just losing the trail of would-be mafia, but was also messing with my sense of direction. I think it was on purpose. I wasn’t in the best state of mind after all. I hated everything.

Up in Valhalla, I stared at our empty haven. Then I stared at the bloody bathroom floor. The stark image of it struck me so hard, I screamed out loud in anger. Fists clenched, hands and face sweaty, heat and fury surged through me. My imps were silent, though the ones with the larger horns grinned at me with teeth shining.

“Go away!” I screamed at them.

But they did not move. They were enjoying this.

I chased after them.

They dodged. They were always faster. Imps were.

But then I actually got hold of an ankle—from a fat one with larger horns. Tightening my grip, I swung him around by his foot, swatting the other imps with him. He screamed in sheer horror of it, and I finally, finally! got my revenge. It was those imps fault just as much as it was the fault of our stupid classmates that Wispy had attempted suicide. They kept shouting foul, loathsome things at her, convincing her that she was trash. She was not trash! Like a rock in a sling, I eventually let that lousy demon imp go. He went through the ceiling to the outside—and good riddance.

Staring at that empty wall—as I was now alone—I drew a breath.

Outside.

There was an outside. I did not have to stay in here. I was sick of being inside. What was the point anyway? No one wanted me here. Piranha was leaving. Spastic did not need me. Wispy was most likely never coming back. I figured those cops would see to her getting into a nice quiet psych ward where at least she would be left alone. I had nothing now.

So, I stepped through the wall into the open air.

My body dropped a bit, but I immediately went immaterial and mostly invisible, and recovered my light-as-a-bubble weight as my wings flapped open. I floated down to the ground into the alley. My mind was humming, my ears ringing as I set foot on the filthy ground. It wasn’t LA. But it wasn’t mid-winter here either. I could head south, go on foot, then follow the coastline westward and make my way back to my beach.

Yet my mind told me that was a bad idea. Dervish would be waiting for me. So would Eve. And Eve would not be happy with me returning.

Frowning to myself, not willing to meet up with those two dangerous demon types again, I wondered what Florida was like this time of year. Florida had a beach. It had tourists too with places where people could easily lose money and not even notice it. It was a perfect destination.

So, following my feet down the road, I eventually found a bus stop. I pawed around my pockets for loose change—but then I saw a subway entrance.

Subway.

That’s was underground and mostly automated. I could just walk in and out and nobody would be able to know the difference. So I went in.

Everything went smoothly. No one batted an eye at me. No one noticed I hadn’t paid. No one noticed that I had walked through a solid turnstile without it moving. And I stepped onto a subway car, going… well, nowhere in particular.

I just rode the subway cars.

And rode them, changing from one train to another when I tired of going in one direction or was sick of a singular person staring at my horns the entire time. My head was still buzzing, numb and lost. And I was still angry. The noise of those millions of imps around me surged like loud cries of partiers. The sound made me feel mentally drunk, swaying in their riotous glee yet unable to focus on one thing. I didn’t really know where I wanted to go really. I just didn’t want to go home.

Home.

Did I even have one now? I wondered, while barely holding onto a pole. More eyes followed me, watching me. It was stifling. I got off that subway car and wandered again.

My feet stupidly found their way up an escalator, through an unmoving turnstile and up a set of stairs. Honestly I was desperate to get out from under a ceiling. That was why I had gone outside, right? And all those hours down below was just as bad as being in Gulinger. I nearly ran out the last few steps just to look at the sky.

The blare of car horns reached my ears, and the clomp of feet. My feet stumbled over concrete, and I had bumped into someone. One person yelped. But another said, “Cool cosplay.”

 I looked back with a vague snort. I was a freak after all, but normies never believed the truth when it smacked into them.  

I lifted my eyes to the sky again, staring at my surroundings. I was still walled in—this time by buildings. This wasn’t LA. No wide open skies. No warm cheerful sun with yellow haze over it. This sun was covered by smoggy greyish city haze. This haze was also filled with curse words and harsh talk, car horns and Prada shoes hitting pavement in front of fancy buildings with old names. This place was foreign and cold. I wanted Home. Not this.

Eventually I found myself stumbling near more open air—perhaps instinctively. And then I saw it. The trees. So many trees on the other side of a broad road. It was beautiful. In there would be fresh air.

But I also saw a death angel standing on the corner across from me.

He had huge black wings and wore a thin pinstripes suit—as if he had been a gangster in a former life. He stared back at me, arms folded, like he was waiting for me.

“Roddy!”

I turned around quickly, prepared for a fight.

But what I saw was a surprised Rick Deacon in a casual jogging hoodie and knee-high shorts. He was wearing earbuds and looking sweaty. In his leg I noticed an old bullet scar.

“What are you doing so far away from Gulinger?” He asked it, but he was smirking as if he wasn’t too surprising to see me out.

I had two choices: escape to the park now or answer him. His imps were teasing him to go peek in a local café to see if a certain girl was still working there. He seemed hardly clued in to what had been going on in Gulinger with us imps. He wasn’t even mad at me.

I said, “Nuthin’.”

He blinked at me, reading my body language. His keen wolf eyes raked over my head especially. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he said, “Needed to get away, huh?”

I stared. How did he do it? I knew the dude wasn’t psychic.

Nodding, he gestured for me to follow him. “I know the feeling. Come with me. I’ll buy you lunch.”

My stomach gurgled at the offer. I hadn’t even had breakfast, so I followed him. I didn’t have to stay with him, after all. He was only a wolf. It wasn’t like he could drag me back to Gulinger against my will.

I noticed some death angels start to follow us. There were three now. One was a stoic looking woman.

No. They were