Idealism, sits in prison,
Chivalry fell on its sword,
Innocence died screaming,
Honey ask me, I should know.
I slithered here from Eden,
Just to hide outside your door...
--Hozier

My arms burn by the time I'm done dragging Eden's body to the fence. The girl is small, but I swear she weighs as much as a sumo wrestler. Terry is of no help, not with those slender arms.

"Okay," I huff at the fence, waving my hand. "Do the disappeary-thing."

Eden, face still a mess of agony, grunts as she sits up against the steel wire. Taking a few giant breathes, her features relax to look almost serene, and her skin starts to waver, as though she were just a mirage this entire time.

But mirages don't weigh that much, so I can't convince myself that her body, which is now turning into wafting color and seeping through the fence like smoke, is just a trick of light.

Soon, the girl is just smokey color, moving to the other side of the fence. Once all of the substance is gathered in one spot, it melds together to solidify, reconstructing her body.

However, my jacket and her gown did not make the trip over, and Eden materializes naked on the other side. I hear Terry's inhale and immediately turn around to punch him in the arm. "Be a gent and turn around, would ya?" I chide.

He wisely obeys, averting his stare and turning away. I make the gruelling climb back over the fence, my thighs and arms screaming out their resistance. My wounded shoulder only makes matters worse, the bite mark sore and stinging.

I fall to the ground more than I land, flinging the clothes off my shoulder and redressing Eden back to rights. It is a slow process due to my exhaustion and her pain.

I take in her bunched up, sweaty face, her arms clutched around her stomach.

What could be wrong? The effects of the anesthetic should have worn off by now, surely?

Terry drops down next to us. " My car is just over here," he says, pointing to a gathering of trees. "We taking her to a hospital?"

I throw him a sharp look. "Absolutely not."

"Why?"

I groan. "Terry, what the hell would we even say? And she is not normal. She has to be an anomaly of some sort. They won't know how to help her anyway."

"What do we do with her then?" he asks.

"She goes with you."

"Me?! What'll I tell mom and dad? They won't let a girl wearing nothing live with us!"

"Well she can't come with me!" I counter. No fucking way.

"Why?" he tilts his head at me. "You live alone, right?"

I open my mouth, but close it when I realize that my place is the only suitable option. I look down at Eden, whose head is bowed in pain.

Ah fuck. Why? Why me?

"Okay, fine. Help me carry her to your car." Terry looks like I've just asked him to rock-climb Mount Everest. "Hey, you wanted to do what I do, right? Well this is what I do, Princess."

"I'm not a princess," he whines, taking Eden by one arm as I take the other.

We move her into the trees, to the car, lowering her gingerly into the backseat.

"Please don't throwup in here. It's real leather interior," Terry tells a barely conscious Eden.

I roll my eyes at him. "Are you fucking serious?"

He shrugs, shutting the door. We climb into the front and speed off. I look over my shoulder out the back window, agonizing over Viktor.

He shot his own foot. Why would he do that? Who is he trying to fool... to protect me from? Who is that woman who was ordering him around? His client? Is Viktor helping the Demons harvest humans?

"Hey, you okay?" comes Terry's voice. "You're shaking a lot."

I want a damn drink. A strong one.

I can feel the cleansing burn in my throat now -- need it. I need something to curb the prickling of my nerves, to fuzz the edges of my psyche. To make me forget the girl ripped open on the table and the sight of Viktor's blood.

Like so many nights before, tonight I will have to drink myself into oblivion to get a restful sleep and to keep the nightmares at bay.

"I'm fine," I bite out, trying to keep the shaking from my voice.

...Just a little longer, and I can have a drink...

After driving in tense quiet for a bit, Eden starts to gargle softly. I turn in my seat to see what is happening.

She is kneeling forward, gripping the edge of her seat, eyes jammed shut. Rivets of sweat slide down her face, veins protruding all over. The gargles start becoming more violent, turning i nto full-on wretching.

"Pull over!" I exclaim.

Terry swerves to the shoulder of the highway, repeating over and over panickedly, "Not my car!"

I bound out of the front seat, swinging around to the back with Eden. I pull her out and help her kneel onto her knees on the side of the road. Her whole body is quaking, the back of her hospital gown damp with perspiration. Her wretching throws her body forward each time and sounds so painful that I cringe after every one.

Finally, she starts choking up bile, vomitting into the ditch. I hear Terry begin to gag and hop back into the car where he is safe from the nasty sight and smell.

I stay by her side, patting her back and holding her while her body attacks her. I am used to this. I've held my mother just the same way, and have been held like this too as I have emptied myself of all the rejected alcohol my liver refused to handle. Poor Viktor...

I try to take my mind from him, focusing on Eden, who I am convinced is dying here. I see the exhaustion and pain on her face, but she just keeps on wretching. After a full five minutes, finally, something long and metal drops out of her mouth along with the bile. A little silver cylinder.

"The hell?" I grunt, repulsed.

Eden sags, shoulders collapsing, the wretching over just like that. She almost falls forward into the mote of puke she has created in the ditch, but I catch her and lay her back. She pants laboriously, vomit dripping off of her chin.

I call for Terry. He peeks his head out cautiously, covering his mouth and nose with a hand. "Is it over?"

"You got a bag or a napkin in your car? Or both?"

"Both," he says, surveying the scene. "Is she even alive?"

"Bring them to me," I command, studying the cylinder.

"Mine," Eden croaks out almost unintelligibly.

"What?" I ask, leaning over her.

"It's mine..."

I tilt my head at her. "Okay. I'll leave it alone. I'm just gonna bring it with us."

Her eyes roll back into her head, and a small breath escapes her lips. I check her vitals to see if I've lost her, but she has just passed out.

Terry brings me the bag, which I turn inside out and grab the cylinder with, like I'm picking up dog crap. Terry gags again as I do this and I order him to return to the car before I have to take care of him too.

I wipe Eden up as best I can, free of vomit and sweat. Then I take on the herculean task of lifting her back into the car. Once she is settled and buckled in sufficiently enough, we head back onto the road.

It's getting late. Oberon is expecting me to be all ready by tonight, but that will be impossible if I want to drink. I have to choose his wrath or going without.

As we reach town, I ask Terry to pull over at the liquor store.

"What?" he drones, "Now?"

"Just do it."

He isn't even parked before I gun it out of the car, practically sprinting to the store entrance.

It's been hours since the wine, and so much has happened since then. I need to numb myself back into being a tool again. This is the only way I have ever been able to switch off my emotions, and right now, they are wreaking havoc on my mind. All those people, that guy with the exploding head, that girl with her innards spilled out of her, Eden, Viktor. I can't even process it all, all the suffering. I need a drink. I need a drink.

I buy a twelve pack of beer and two Jack Daniels. The cashier observes my shaking hands, her eyes openly judging me. She barely says a word as she rings me in and I wring my hands in anxious anticipation. I race back to the car, pulling one of the bottles of Jack out and twisting the top off with my teeth as I climb into the Prius.

From my peripheral vision, Terry is looking at me like I have two heads, but I could care less. The only thing that matters is downing the liquid as fast as I can. I just want the dull warmth, the dizzying rush, to take back my mind from all the cold doom battering it.

"Seriously? You can't drink that in here! Couldn't you wait?" Terry yells in bewilderment.

I drag a hand across my dripping chin, panting after my breathless gulps. "No," I say honestly... sadly.

Terry looks at me some more for a moment, and I can practically hear his thoughts.

This is who I wanted to train me?

Take a good hard look, Princess. This is The Company you so badly want to join.

With half the bottle in me, I start to feel like myself again. I can deal now.

"I'll get you home then," Terry mutters. "Both of you."

I look over my shoulder at Eden, who is still out cold.

Eden. Paradise.

I hope she is ready for anything but. My life is a little piece of Hell afterall, and with Oberon entering it... well, I feel we will both soon have a snake in our midst.