“See ya tomorrow,” Robert said to Invisigal. “No spoilers.” Then he took off his headset and texted Blazer back: ‘Sorry, can’t tonight. Rain check?’
She answered, ‘Yeah, no worries!’ so quickly it was like her eyes were glued to the phone. Robert put his phone away, grabbed his bag, and headed for the elevator, Beef trailing at his heels.
When he exited out of the building, he found the night’s air cool and refreshing. The parking lot was mostly empty, but sitting on a low concrete wall and reclining back on her hands was Malevola. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed and she was staring up at the night sky, her head tilting rhythmically from side to side as her tail swayed behind her like a metronome. Robert realized she had earbuds in and was probably listening to music, also noting she probably couldn’t wear over the ear headphones on account of her horns.
He was walking in her general direction and he offered her a casual wave. She looked down, returned the gesture, and looked back up at the sky, head still bobbing.
Must be really into whatever she’s listening to, Robert thought.
As he got closer though, he noticed she was actually singing along, a low, guttural sound coming from deep in her throat and chest. It was more like a vibrating growl than traditional singing, but there did actually seem to be words of some kind.
Probably something demonic, he assumed.
But right as he was passing by her, it clicked in his brain and he realized he recognized what she was singing. He froze in place right next to her, his eyes still forward as he tried to figure out if he had truly recognized it or just imagined it.
Malevola pulled an earbud out and looked at him with mild amusement. “Everything okay, Dispatch?”
Robert looked over and squinted at her. “Was that fuckin’ Sugaan Essena?”
There was a brief pause and then she let out a small laugh, pulling the other earbud out too. “Didn’t think you were a fan of Mongolian throat metal.”
Robert shrugged. “I mainly liked the game they made that song for. But I do like some hard jams from time to time. Helps clear the noise out of my head.”
“Oh yeah?” She smirked. “Like what?”
“Recently it’s been the newest Sleep Token album. Shit’s got me in a chokehold, I’ve just been listening to the whole album on repeat.”
Malevola let out a surprised laugh. “Okay, Dispatch. Respect. I see you.”
Robert nodded to the empty lot. “Why are you sitting out here in the dark all by yourself?”
She let out a little sigh and gestured vaguely toward the city skyline. “Sonar’s off pursuing some bad habits so I’m just killing time until he inevitably needs me to bail him out of whatever trouble he decides to get himself into.”
“Why don’t you just go stop him?”
“Shit, way it used to be, I’d go join him. But…” she looked a little sad for just a second. “Trying to be better. And trying to help him be better. Sometimes he needs to feel the consequences of his actions—if I jump in too early, he doesn't learn.”
“That’s… surprisingly responsible,” Robert said. “You’re a good friend, Mal.”
She gave him a playful look. “You are too. So why aren't you hanging out with either of the women who are so obviously interested in you?”
Robert let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping a bit. He looked down at Beef, who was sniffing Malevola’s foot. “I dunno. They’re both a little too… noisy. One keeps throwing me mixed signals and the other keeps literally throwing herself at me, almost aggressively. It’s a bit chaotic.”
Malevola almost scoffed and cocked an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong with chaotic?”
“Oh yeah, forgot who I’m talking to,” he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I feel like I need control. Or maybe not control, but structure. My life’s become a bit messy recently. I’m just trying to keep from spinning out.”
“Nah,” she shook her head. “You need to loosen up. I’ve thought you were uptight ever since that first shift.”
“Thank you?” Robert said, genuinely unsure if he should be offended.
She just laughed and stood up. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift home.”
She raised a hand and a portal opened nearby. Through the swirling vortex of red and black energy, Robert could see his own empty living room.
Robert stared at it, then at her. “You know exactly where I live. I’m not sure if I should be scared or not.”
“Only a little,” she winked.
Robert whistled for Beef, who happily trotted through the tear in reality as if it were a doggy door. Robert followed and Malevola stepped through behind him. The portal zipped shut with a pop. He set his backpack down on the floor and Beef immediately circled his bed three times, then collapsed.
Robert heard a new portal open behind him and turned to say thank you before she left, but paused. She was just waiting at the portal, watching him.
“What?” Robert asked.
“Come on,” she jerked her head toward the portal. “Let’s go clear the noise.”
He watched her hesitantly before taking a cautious step forward. Then another. And finally, he followed her through the portal, entering into the back corner of a dimly lit dive bar. The air was thick with the smell of cigarettes and stale beer, but underneath it was the distinct electric hum of amplifiers being pushed to their limit.
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“Welcome to The Pit,” Malevola said. “I know the owner. And the band owes me a favor.”
“I’m not sure if I want to know what for,” Robert muttered, taking the scene in.
She led him to a booth in the back with red vinyl upholstery that had seen better days. Robert slid in, feeling the bass of the current track vibrate in his chest. Malevola returned a moment later with a pitcher of something dark and two glasses. She poured, handed one to him, and then they clinked their glasses together.
Robert threw the first drink back into his mouth and had to stop himself from spitting it out. He forced it down with a burning choke and coughed at her, “God, fuck—what is that, pure gasoline?”
She just laughed with an evil smile and said, “Don’t ask, just drink.”
They spent the next hour working through the pitcher until Robert felt a buzzing numbness that took the edge off the day and possibly flirted with alcohol poisoning. Malevola was surprisingly easy to talk to. She told stories about her days before Z-Team that were horrifyingly funny, and he found himself laughing more than he had in months.
By the time the pitcher was empty, Robert was feeling loose. His tongue felt a little heavy in his mouth.
“You know,” he gestured at her with his glass. “You’re everyone’s taste.”
Malevola paused, her glass halfway to her lips, and just stared at him as her brow slowly crept upward.
Robert’s eyes widened as his brain caught up to his mouth. “No—shit. Sorry. I meant… you’re not like everyone else. But you do have good taste. In music. That’s what I meant.”
She stared at him for a beat, then let out a sharp laugh and leaned back, draping an arm over the booth. “I may not be everyone’s taste, but I am a lot of peoples’ fetish. Like, a lot. Too many.”
Robert opened his mouth to respond, maybe to apologize again or stumble through a compliment, but his brain felt like it was buzzing too much to form words.
Then she abruptly stood up.
“I’ll be right back,” she said with a wink. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Robert watched her walk away, disappearing into the crowd near the stage. He nursed the last of his drink, letting the atmosphere wash over him. A melancholic electric piano melody began to play and he let it pass through him like a massage. It was thirty seconds into the song before his attention snapped into clear focus and he realized he knew exactly what was playing: Sleep Token’s song Look To Windward.
His head whipped toward the stage just in time for his gaze to lock onto the yellow eyes of the red demonness. She was center stage, microphone in hand, the stage lights causing her horns to cast long shadows against the wall. She raised the mic to her lips and purred into it:
“Will you listen, just as my form starts to fission?
Losing this war of attrition, just as I drift away.”
Her voice was raw and haunting, stripping away the dry growl the song normally held for something dark and smooth. Robert stared at her as she maintained eye contact, singing directly to him. Over and over, she was softly chanting,
“Will you halt this eclipse in me?”
He stood up from the booth, drawn forward like a moth to a flame. As he approached the stage, the crowd parted around him.
“With the shadows, longer to me than a light-year,
Moving so slow, I could die here,
Say you can hear me say,
Will you halt this eclipse in me?”
The music began to swell as she pulled the mic away and let out a higher-pitched chant that sounded like an angel call, completely contradictory to her demonic look. She began beckoning to him, curling one finger to invite him up on stage. Robert shook his head, smiling nervously, and tried to wave her off. But her eyes were locked on him, and she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
She took a deep breath and leaned into the mic, her voice building intensity with the song. As she started repeating that same line, she took a step closer to the edge of the stage. The music kept building, stronger and stronger, and then suddenly:
Everything went quiet, and she whispered the last: “Will you halt this eclipse in—
The beat dropped.
Malevola screamed “MEEYYY!!!” so loud that the glasses in the bar shook, a primal, ten-second demon roar letting loose as the guitars rang and the drummer hammered like thunder.
Over the next thirty seconds, the music built and swelled like audible lightning, and Robert found his feet moving again. The entire time he climbed up on stage, she never broke eye contact, and when he finally got up to her, she handed him the mic.
The music went quiet, and ten seconds of silence seemed to stretch for ten years. He still felt unsure—he knew the lyrics, they were right there in his throat and he felt pressure in his chest begging to get out.
But he still hesitated.
Malevola stepped behind him and placed her hands over his eyes, blocking out the crowd, the lights, and the world. She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear, and whispered, “Just let it out.”
Robert took a breath, seeing only black, and as the music crested, he let the dam break.
“I've got eyelids heavy enough to break diamonds,
You pray for sound and I pray for silence,
Damn right faithless, I can't deny,
You'll find me with half a mind to get violent.”
The pain he hadn’t processed yet—the explosion, losing his suit, being sidelined and possibly never being able to fight again—it all poured out of him into the mic. Malevola pulled her hands away but Robert kept his eyes squeezed shut, lost in the catharsis.
“Am I walking with gods, or merely stumbling forth?
Until there's fire at the gates, until I fall to the floor.”
He opened his eyes and saw she was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view of anyone but her. Their eyes locked together and stayed there.
“Even in this garden of gardens, I am the god of the gaps,
I am the demon of Sodom, I am the blood of an angel,
The fate of the fallen, nobody knows where I came from, even I have forgotten,
How can I already lose my way like this?”
Malevola produced a second mic with her tail and took it with her hand. She stepped beside him, tilted her head back, resonating her own voice with his as they both sang high:
“Oh, and I!
I used to know myself!”
They stood back to back, leaning against each other.
“Oh, and you!
You used to know me well!
Oh, and I!”
The music hammered down once more.
“I wish that I could leave myself alone!
Oh, and you!
You wish that you could make me whole!”
The heavy instruments cut out, leaving only the haunting ambient track. Robert was breathing hard, sweat beading on his forehead. He turned around, facing her again as he raised the mic and whispered:
“Will you halt this eclipse in me?”
She stared back, her chest heaving as he whispered it, over and over.
The music dropped hard one last time as she smirked a little, then she turned to face the crowd, took a deep breath, and let out another roaring demonic scream. The drums and guitars pounded hard as she looked over her shoulder at him with a grin. And just as he knew the music would cut out, leaving them in silence—
She lifted her hand up, gave him a firm shove to the sternum, and he stumbled backward. He tripped as he went through the portal, falling onto his butt in his apartment. Malevola looked down at him with that damn smirk, winked, and the portal closed.
Robert collapsed onto his back, still breathing hard, and did nothing to stop Beef from licking his face.