For the first time in a long time, Andrew didn’t have nightmares or visions. He peacefully woke up to a cat purring on his stomach. The sun kissed through the blinds, like a lover’s touch, while the sheets felt as warm as an embrace. By god, he wished he could have this warmth forever.
Wait, this wasn’t his apartment.
It took him a moment and a half to recollect what happened last night. He stayed over at the Sergeant’s place, mainly because he was scared of going crazy—he obviously didn’t tell her that—but she seemed to oblige him. The Sergeant cooked up some good fried rice with spam and served it with some beer.
So why was he in her bed?
Fortunately, the Sergeant emerged from the living room with her same grey hoodie and sweatpants. Even though she had a good amount of sleep, she had the same set of dark eyebags as usual—it might as well be natural mascara. “Hey Cheng, did you sleep well last night?”
That was when Andrew realized that the Sergeant took the couch, while letting him have her bed. It was a funny reversal of gender norms, but the Sergeant, herself, was a reversal. “I slept fine,” Andrew replied as he slid out of her bed.
For some reason, he had the idea that she wanted him to tag along a little longer. That was fine, since he felt the same. “Have any plans for today?”
“Not particularly. You?”
“No,” Andrew replied. “I can’t say I do.”
For a second, neither of them seemed to know what to say. Eventually, the Sergeant managed to yawn, “I’ll make us some breakfast.” Then she headed back to the kitchen.
Andrew followed and helped her with what he could. She was making some eggs and noodles, so he just helped in getting the packets. All while the television droned on about the bullshit it called news.
“Once again, the People’s Republic of China and the United States are at diplomatic conflict as to the status of the island of New Changan. In recent years, the island has been deemed as a self-autonomous state by both superpowers, though much of its structure connects to American infrastructure. With both countries competing for the city state’s influence, the future can only be…”
Yeah, whatever it was talking about, Andrew didn’t care too much. Those politicians rarely ever thought about demons, let alone the people who had to fight them. With the amount that Andrew’s seen, everything else might as well have been a blurb.
“Food’s done.”
The Sergeant brought the two bowls to the table for them to eat. They had it with some canned coffee, which tasted pretty decent. It was probably the only time Andrew saw the Sergeant drink something other than an energy drink.
“Shit,” the Sergeant muttered under her breath. Her metal chopsticks looked like bent spaghetti as her artificial fingers squeezed them. She had to close her eyes and take a deep breath before they relaxed. “It still happens every once in a while.”
“Don’t worry.” Andrew took a big slurp of the noodles; the Sergeant was a damn good cook. “I won’t tell the team.”
She smirked a little. It was the kind of look that said, I know.
In any case, it was a peaceful morning. A good sunrise, a good breakfast, and Kylo got to have his fill from the automatic feeder. He seemed pretty content with his new home, including the Sergeant’s shoulder. That seemed to be his favorite place to sit, even while she tried to keep eating.
“It’s a good thing we groomed him last night. Otherwise, he’d be shedding all over your bowl,” Andrew chuckled. “What do you think is his story? I mean, you found him looking filthy on some train tracks.”
With a new pair of chopsticks, the Sergeant finished her meal. “No collar, no tag, and no owner,” she replied. “With the almost unchecked immigration coming to New Changan, it’s inevitable for a couple animals to hitch a ride. Cats come from California, China, even Turkey. All I know is that this cat, like us, got a fresh start here. Hell, that’s why so many CDR members try getting stationed here.”
The Sergeant sat back. Kylo fell into her lap and she pet his head. “Even the CDRs are pretty diverse. We’re somewhat rare, for having most of our members from the ‘States. But obviously, things are only gonna get more hectic as more people come.”
“Think there should be border control?” Andrew asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know that for every couple of good people, there’s bound to be one bad one. Get enough bad people together, and they’ll start corrupting the good people.”
For the next moment, they just sat there in mutually enjoyed silence. Distant traffic whirred, billboards flashed, and Kylo purred. Surely, the city was growing behind them, like a giant beanstalk in hiding. But for this specific time, it was comfortably big and comfortably small. For now, at least.
“Do you have guests often?” Andrew finally asked.
“No.”
“Oh.” It felt like such a stupid question, by how quickly she replied. “Well, I know the team looks up to you, especially Kang, so I’m surprised you never have people over for dinner. I know we didn’t have steak and turkey, but it seemed pretty nice.”
The Sergeant smiled again. It was the same smile she had back in the hospital, when she was visited by the prosthetic boy. “I appreciate that. But, needless to say, I don’t like being seen like this.”
Andrew sat up with curiosity. “Seen like what?”
In turn, the Sergeant pointed outside, where they could both see the CDR station. “When I’m in there, I’m Sergeant Yang. I’m like Captain Hook: leading my gang into hell with my fake hand. I don’t have weaknesses. I can’t afford weaknesses. I see a demon, my first response is to beat the shit out of it with my bare hands. I have my team. I have my APE. I have my gun.”
Then she pointed back to her apartment. “But here, I don’t have my team. I don’t have my APE. I don’t have my gun. In here, I just have an underused television, a stale bed, and photos of a life I don’t live. Here, I’m just Jessica Yang.”
The Sergeant took a deep breath before downing her can of coffee and crushing it. “You always were curious about what goes on in my head. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was what inspired you to stay in my hospital room, or to actually help me out with this random cat. But, the truth of the matter is that I have a condition.”
“What’s the condition?”
She pointed to her eyebags. “Insomnia.”
For a second, that didn’t sound as bad as what Andrew had been expecting. For a woman who had seen hell in war and in the CDRs, she must’ve been plagued by countless nightmares. From what he knew, she somehow pulled through.
“It’s a mix of not being able to and not wanting to sleep,” the Sergeant added. “I usually don’t want to sleep, since I have so much work to do. But the moment I try getting shuteye, boom, something fucked up flashes in my mind. I end up seeing a demon, a dead kid, or a past subordinate of mine. I found that smoking cigars helps me stop thinking about it. For a bit, at least.”
Andrew didn’t know what to say. Sergeant Yang had too many years under her belt. She’d seen too much death to remain so rational. With such a dirty world hidden underneath her clean image, it was no wonder she didn’t usually invite people over.
“Now,” she continued, “I told you about my demons. Now it’s high time you told me about yours.”
“Huh?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” the Sergeant asked. “I want you to remember what happened in the last mission. You started walking around on your own, looking like you were seeing ghosts. I had to snap you awake multiple times. That’s without mentioning how we ended up finding you.”
Andrew paused. What was he supposed to say?
“Look,” the Sergeant sighed, “it’s no surprise that the CDR teams are full of fucked up individuals. Every one of us probably has some disorder of some kind. But what you did there was almost get yourself killed. While I couldn’t give a rat’s ass whether or not I make it back to my shitty apartment, I’ll be damned if I get another sobbing mother crying on my uniform while–”
Her phone rang. Her rant was forced to the side as she growled and picked up the call. “What?” she asked in an irritated voice.
Andrew didn’t hear the other end, but he heard her reply with nods. “Yeah. Understood. He’s right here. I’ll bring him over. Got it.”
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She ended the call and stood up. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, we gotta get in uniform and head to the labs. They want you to talk to the demon we captured in the mission.”
Andrew didn’t know whether to be thankful or sorry. Part of him wanted to spill the truth out, while the other part would rather spill his guts out first. If his Sergeant found out that he was possessed by a demon—the Beast of Envy if Dr. Myers’s note was correct—then she’d probably snap his neck right there.
Andrew wasn’t afraid to die. He was afraid of dying by his own team.
***
Lieutenant Bates was waiting for them at the labs. He poured out paragraphs upon paragraphs of information, until the Sergeant simply had enough. “Okay, I get it. There was a groundbreaking discovery. Cut to the chase and just tell me what it is.”
With a smile, the Lieutenant said, “We found the motherbase of the Pentagramists.”
The Sergeant, with Andrew right behind her, immediately stopped. Standing in the hallway of the classified space, she gave him a sharp look. “Are you serious? How reliable is our information?”
“Pretty damn reliable,” he answered. “Thanks to our undercover agents from the NCAPD, we got fresh eyes on their location. It seems to coincide with weapons trafficking reports as well.”
“Tracking,” the Sergeant replied. “And, in what way does Cheng play into this?”
“Simple: the demon known as Emily is our only intelligent captive who can actually speak in complete sentences. The problem is that she’s uncooperative, insisting that she speaks with her best friend. From the report you sent me, it seemed to be him.”
They made it into the basement of the building where the armed guards stood as usual. Equipped with the latest weapons, they each had a set of wireguns, thermite grenades, and heavy-duty machineguns. Though they didn’t have APEs, since that would require an impossible amount of energy, their numbers made up for it.
They led Andrew into a quiet room that looked a whole lot like the mental institute cells, except with the walls being made of black titanium-like metal instead of white padding. On one end was Andrew’s seat, while the other was barred off with layers upon layers of ballistic glass, opaque metal, and even an experimental energy field—it glowed red.
“Alright, this is a mic check. Can you hear me?” the Lieutenant asked on the intercom.
“Yeah. I hear you.”
There was a second of rustling, probably as senior members started heading into the room. Pretty high tense situation, but Andrew knew he had to stay calm. Given the weirdness of it all, it was probably best to speak only when asked to.
“I’m going to read you some guidelines for the following interview between you, Officer Cheng, and Subject #932. You’ll also find them on the packet on the table, specifically the first page.”
The packet must’ve been thick enough to stop bullets. Andrew made sure to read along as he sat himself down. It was definitely gonna be a long day.
Guidelines:
Interviewing officer is instructed not to touch the safety field. Failure to do so will lead to the interviewing officer’s own injury, as well as a brief recess.
Subject #932 is to remain constrained in electronic wire and thermite explosives. If the interviewing officer observes a failure in the mechanism, they are instructed to press the red-button underneath the table. This will signal an end to the meeting.
Should there be any emergencies, the interviewing officer is instructed to press the red button underneath the table. Once again, this will signal an end to the meeting.
There were a hundred or so lines of basically the same sentence written over and over again. Andrew stopped listening by the fifth time he heard red button underneath the table. At that point, he wanted to press it just to get this whole thing over with.
“Okay, that was a mouthful, but that’s it,” the Lieutenant finally exhaled. “Any questions? Concerns?”
Andrew didn’t say anything. He looked ready to fall asleep, after hearing an earful of red button.
“Remember–”
“Press the red button if anything goes wrong?” Andrew yawned.
Lieutenant Bates chuckled over the intercom. “Yeah. You got the idea. Alright boys, send in the demon. We get this done quick enough, we’ll make it back before dinner.”
The sound of a rolling gurney echoed from the other end. The hydraulic door opened to reveal Emily laying on a secured chamber. It was a strange sight, seeing a little girl wrapped in wires and encapsulated in a metal coffin. It must’ve been pumped full of cold nitrogen gas and anesthetics, because she was out cold.
The guards placed the coffin at the other end of the room before clicking a button. Gas coughed out like exhaust. Then, after a couple seconds, the girl’s eyes came right open.
“Ah! Mister! You’re no longer in a metal suit!”
Andrew was slightly glad to see that she was still smiling. A demon, but still a kid, she didn’t deserve anything cruel. From what Andrew knew, she hadn’t killed anyone.
“Hey Emily. I’m sorry to tell you, but I think you have me confused for someone else. You see, my name is Officer Andrew Cheng,” he calmly said. “You can call me Andrew. Is that okay?”
He prayed to God that she wouldn’t mention Doctor Myers—since he was probably her one guardian in that mental institute. Considering the taboo topic, any mention of him around shadowy seniors sounded like suicide.
Thankfully, she didn’t mention it. “Okay Mister Cheng!”
“Andrew is fine.”
“Okay Andrew!” she giggled.
One of the guards cleared his throat. Obviously, they wanted to be done with this sooner rather than later, since they were standing only a couple feet from a living, breathing demon. Whether Andrew liked it or not, he was here to ask questions; nothing else.
“Okay, I’ll start asking you some questions.” Andrew flipped the packet to find countless addendums. Sweet Jesus, this packet was long. He wondered how long it was going to take. “So, to begin, what do you call yourself?”
“What do I call myself? Oh, you mean my name!” the demon giggled. “It’s Emily. You know that!”
Next question. “Do you remember anything from your time as a human? If so, please tell me everything you remember.”
She looked up at the ceiling. “Hm…” Emily mumbled, “Do you mean before I changed?”
“Yes, before you changed.”
Emily froze for a moment. Then she started crying. “Mom and dad were so mean to me! I thought I was just sick, so I ran to their room, but they started screaming! Dad even got his gun and aimed it at me! I was so scared, I jumped out the window and crawled away.”
“And this was in 2030?”
“2030? No, I think it was last year.”
Andrew paused. The rest of the room settled in cold air, like a ghost phased through their bodies. For the longest time, they had all thought that the transformations were done only in 2030. This girl was the living counterpoint.
“When and how were you admitted into the New Changan Mental Institute?” Andrew continued.
She shrugged. “I don’t know when. I was sleeping on the street for a while and then, poof, I woke up in fresh clothes and a bed. It was pretty nice. They even gave me a nice man as a roommate. I thought you were him—sorry.”
Once again, Andrew was relieved that she wasn’t spelling everything out for the superiors. While he was sure it wasn’t on purpose, he also knew that one mistake could cost him his life. “Continuing to the next question…”
Wait, that couldn’t be right.
The next series of questions were in the realm of the macabre. It was a series of philosophical, psychological, and abstract queries that not even a normal girl could answer, let alone a demonic one. “Um… how do you view the act of… killing…?”
She looked reasonably surprised at the question as well. It took a second for her to actually register what Andrew had asked. “I don’t know. I think everyone can be nice and everyone can be mean. I don’t think I want to kill anyone, unless they’re a really bad guy.”
The next question didn’t make things better. “How did you feel when you took life?”
“Take life? Are you asking me if I killed anyone?” Emily giggled. “I don’t think I ever have. The doctors said I was dangerous, and the nice Mister did too, but I don’t think I ever killed anyone. I did accidentally hurt Mister sometimes when we played together, but that was it.”
Of course, Andrew understood part of what she was talking about. He still had the scar of the pincer underneath his uniform. “I’m so sorry for these weird questions,” Andrew sighed. “Do you know the ultimate goal of the Pentagramists?”
“The who?”
“You don’t know who the Pentagramists are?” Andrew asked.
She shook her head. “Are they some kind of band? They didn’t really show us anything like that in my room. I started to kind of miss TV, but the nice Mister would play with me in the gameroom. We’d play cards all the time and–”
“Emily,” Andrew interrupted, “would you like me to skip this question?”
She nodded. “Are they bad guys? I know Mister would warn me of bad guys who would grab naughty kids at night. He said that if something like that started happening, I should hide. That’s why we played hide and seek all the–”
“Emily.”
She giggled. “Sorry. Mister also said that I sometimes talk too much. Are you going to ask me another question?”
Andrew looked back at the packet. Most of these questions were stupid pieces of bullshit that hinged on the idea that Emily was some kind of psychotic demon. But from everything Andrew had seen, she was hardly that. “There is a question that I personally have,” he started. “When we were in the institute–”
“Oh! When we were playing hide and seek?”
“Yeah, when we were playing hide and seek,” Andrew nodded. “You said that they wanted me to kill God.” He knew that asking something like this was surely going to get his neck cut, but he didn’t care. “What did you mean by that? And who’s they?”
Once again, she was looking back at the ceiling. It was probably her habit when she was in deep thought.
“I don’t know,” she finally replied. “The Mister would talk in his sleep, and he told me to keep reciting it to him when we played. He said that the bad men were trying to make him dumb, which was why he had a bandage around his head, so I should repeat as much as I could before he forgot it all.”
“So, the Mister told you that they wanted me to kill God?”
Emily shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t know what God did wrong, since he’s just a nice guy in the sky, but apparently bad men want to kill him.” Still inside the coffin, she stretched her arms.
The wires began to activate. “Oops, I think I clicked something.”
Everything went into lockdown as the wires mercilessly electrocuted her. Her screams were hardly muffled by the metal covering as the guards escorted her back outside. It took a minute or two for it all to blow over, including the sirens along the walls.
“Welp, sounds like that’s all we could cover,” Lieutenant Bates sighed on the intercom. “We’ll debrief everything outside. It’s a little past noon, so the Sergeant’ll get you some lunch before we brief you and the team on the upcoming raid. One thing after another, eh?”
Andrew stared at the closed door in front of him. Whoever Doctor Myers was, he seemed like a really nice guy. Death after a lobotomy couldn’t fit such a kind man. “Yeah. One thing after another.”