Ramy ended up returning to work before I did, since he had less PTO due to still being a newer employee. Rest assured, he has recovered nicely and is pretty well back to his usual shithead self.
(If you haven’t seen my previous updates, click here to see my life fall apart in real time.)
As for me, I am better than I was, thanks to following Aanya’s advice. The Girls have been a big help. It’s hard to feel anything but peace and love when you have two adorable chaos gremlins that spend the majority their waking hours playfully terrorizing one another.
Ramy’s also been doing his part to keep me in a pleasant headspace. Between those three sources of serotonin, I’ve been feeling a bit more like myself lately. I’m not exactly the way I was before the possession, but I know it’ll take some time. Just like with any injury, I have to be patient with myself and give myself time to recuperate.
When I returned to work on Wednesday, my first impulse was to check on Aanya. I kept thinking about how she looked the last time I saw her, how scared she’d been. Yeah, she’d been intimidated by Ramy, but when faced with her ex-husband, she’d looked like a completely different person. Smaller. Terrified.
Seated at the front desk, Aanya looked exhausted, resting her cheek in her hand, eyes sliding up unenthusiastically as I approached her.
After glancing around to make sure that no one was around to overhear, I asked her how the girl was doing. She said that the girl was as okay as she could be, given the circumstances.
“What about… you? Are you alright?” I asked carefully.
Her brows lowered, “Just because we had a little trauma bonding moment doesn’t mean that we’re suddenly besties.”
That came out of nowhere. I tried not to be defensive, not wanting things to escalate, “I-I was just trying to be nice.”
“Well, don’t.” She snapped, her hand leaving her cheek to drop noisily onto the desk. “Don’t think for a moment that I can’t see past this ‘I’m so awkward and quirky’ act.”
Now, I was confused and irritated. “Act? I have no idea what-“
“If you’re really the kind person you pretend to be, then why are you with him?”
I won’t lie. I got so frustrated that I began shaking, “You remember how we met? How you targeted me just because I smelled like Ramy, even though you knew that it’s because he put a curse on me? I followed you into that alleyway because I was desperate. I had no one to go to for help!”
Her face softened, but her accusation had unleashed the full flood of 28 years of isolation combined with riding an emotional rollercoaster for a month, so I kept going, “When you drank my blood, did you see those people walk right past me? I could’ve died right there and it wouldn’t have mattered. No one at this lab would’ve batted an eye except for Ramy. I’m not going to sit here and pretend like he’s a fucking saint, because we all know that’s far from the case, but at least he gives a shit. That’s more than what I’m used to.”
Aanya shrunk down into her chair, crossing her arms as she avoided my eyes.
After a bout of uncomfortable silence, I stammered, “So… about finding… that guy…”
Still not looking at me, she curtly replied, “I’ll meet you in the breakroom at midnight.”
I couldn’t get away from her quickly enough. After facing the embarrassment that comes from dumping the burden of your own bottled up vulnerabilities onto someone else, I would’ve rather been anywhere else, including my own grave.
Once it came to be about that time, Ramy arrived in the break room a few minutes after me, a victorious grin on his face, “We’re finally getting a new copier!”
I think I’m getting to know him too well. “I’m guessing you sabotaged the old one?”
His expression turned mischeivous. “You can question my methods all you like, but you can’t deny that I get shit done.”
Can’t argue with that logic.
Aanya’s voice floated in, “Sounds like your life motto.”
As soon as I heard her, an acidic discomfort seeped into my chest at the memory of our earlier confrontation. Ramy didn’t even glance her way, taking the seat next to me, resting an arm around the back of my chair.
Aanya pressed her back against the door to the breakroom. I wasn’t sure if this was to ensure that no one would interrupt us or if she simply wanted as much distance between herself and Ramy as possible.
I found my voice, muttering that Aanya was going to help us find the PPE guy.
Aanya quickly cut in, “Not ‘us,’ Lab Rat. Just you.”
Is she serious?
Ramy sighed, “Really? I thought we were past this.”
“My deal was with Lab Rat and Lab Rat alone.”
“What are you afraid of, exactly?” His smirk was devious. “I agreed to your truce. I’m not going to do shit to you. Unless you’re planning to break it, of course.”
I cut Aanya off before Ramy could bait her into a fight, “Whatever we find, I’m going to tell him anyway so just… the both of you just need to quit!”
She took a deep breath as if to collect herself before saying, “Can we at least have a five minute head start? There’s something I need to tell him.”
Ramy glanced at me, silently asking me what I wanted. Reluctantly, I agreed to it. He shrugged a shoulder, saying he’d catch up to us, stating that he wanted to caffinate before our search anyways.
As Aanya and I headed down to the animal facility, she did something I never would’ve expected from her: she apologized. Sort of. It was the flavor of apology that you can only receive from someone who is not accustomed to giving them. Or someone who’s had admissions of guilt weaponized against them in the past.
“I misjudged you.” She uttered, like pulling the words out was akin to prying out her own teeth. “I accused you without knowing the extent of your circumstances.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know if I should. Tense silence followed until she continued, “I know what it’s like to be desperate. To have no one to turn to. To trust the wrong people. We’ve got that in common.”
This prompted me to reply, “What makes you so sure that Ramy’s ‘the wrong people?’”
“As someone that’s also afflicted with an attraction to men, and seems to be more experienced in that area than you are, that jinn is a parade of red flags.”
I frowned at her, “That’s why you wanted to get me alone? To give me a half-assed apology and unwanted dating advice?”
She stopped in her tracks suddenly, grabbing my sleeve to make me slow down as well.
“I’m not good at this, alright? I just…” She trailed off, shaking her head with her jaw tight.
I attempted to stomach my own discomfort and irritation, trying to see things from her perspective.
I hazarded a guess, “Are you… worried that Ramy’s like your ex-husband?”
Her eyes lowered. Seeing that horrible old man again must have done a number on her. Perhaps too late, I realized then she wasn’t acting out of malice, but trauma. Even though she had her revenge, that wasn’t going to magically erase the horrors that she’d endured to have made her the churel that she was.
I hope I said the right things, though it probably would’ve been better if I hadn’t tripped over my words the entire time, “I… I appreciate that you’re concerned about me. I know you two didn’t make very good impressions on one another, so… I can see why you’d think the worst of him. But he does care about me. He just… he’s fucking weird, alright? I mean, so am I but-“
She suddenly interrupted me, “If anything goes bad between you two, promise me that you’ll tell me.”
That shocked me. As I gaped at her like an idiot, she quickly added, “Not saying that anything bad will happen or has happened, but just in case, I’m here… bro.”
The word ‘bro’ hung uncomfortably in the air between us, sounding so horribly tacked on that I almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity.
Nodding, I said with equal awkwardness, “Okay. Bro.”
So, I guess we’re bros now. Super Supernatural Bros. God, I need to be lobotomized.
Navigating around caution tape sectioning off the area Ramy had destroyed, I led her to post mortem, telling her that this was the last place we’d seen the PPE guy. Her gaze swept the room. Subtly, I heard her sniff, tilting her chin up, trying to get the magician’s scent.
“It’s hard to get anything in here.” She eventually said. “Where did he run to?”
I guided her into the hallway. Aanya knelt onto the ground, one of her backwards feet escaping the coverage of her long dress.
Five minutes must have passed since we’d left the breakroom, but it felt like it had been longer than that. In a blink, Ramy was leaning against the wall next to me, observing Aanya as she did her thing.
“Chemicals.” She eventually said, straightening up. “So many chemicals. They obscure his natural scent.”
“And what does that mean for us?” Ramy questioned coolly.
Her impish smile made its return. “Chemical smells tend to linger better than organic ones.”
She turned, seeming excited, not waiting for us as she marched down the hall. Ramy and I shared a glance, then followed her, me having to jog like a little kid to keep up with the two entities. We ended up in the same chemical storage room where I’d fended off the hoofed jinn the first time. She made a beeline towards the PPE cabinet, seizing one of the communal pairs of goggles while we lingered in the doorway.
“He wiped it down,” She announced, holding the goggles to her nose. “But not well enough.”
We were off again, this time to the elevator up to the second floor, which was where most of the upper management was located. Our final destination ended up being an office, the placard indicating that it belonged to a project manager, Omar Al-Masri. He was seated in front of his computer, a headset on, most likely in a conference call that he clearly did not want to be a part of.
Instantly, I turned around, not wanting to be spotted. Ramy appeared to have the same idea; he’d fucked off back to the breakroom. When we were alone in the elevator again, I asked Aanya if she was sure that Omar was who we were looking for. She shrugged, simply saying that was where the scent trail had lead.
I remembered exactly what Ramy wanted to do to the PPE guy once he found him. The thought of an innocent person being subjected to that type of violence made me shiver.
Her role fulfilled, Aanya left me to return to her station at the front desk. I made a beeline for the breakroom, my first words to Ramy being, “We need to be sure. If it’s not him-“
“Yeah, I get you.” He agreed. “Feel like stalking him a bit?”
He said it so casually, as if he was asking me if I wanted to get Italian for dinner.
“You have the most unique date ideas.” I remarked.
But of course, I agreed to it, wanting to make sure that we weren’t making a horrible mistake. I know Aanya has a good nose, but what if Omar had simply been wearing the same goggles as the PPE guy? The goggles were shared amongst personnel, after all.
But why would a project manager be wearing that PPE? That’s a desk job. They mostly communicate with all of us through Zoom or email. They don’t typically venture to the labs in person. However, even with that little thing not adding up, a smell wasn’t enough to implicate someone.
Before we went on our stalking date, Ramy got Omar’s address by abusing his IT access. The plan was to go to his house and look for anything suspicious. It was located in a suburb, which prompted us to park the PT Cruiser a block away to avoid rousing suspicion. With it being so late, there was no one out walking around except for our us, but you can’t be too careful.
Ramy had vanished once we got to the back fence, reappearing to hold open the gate from the other side for me. Omar had an in-ground pool, the lights from which bathed the patio in a serene, blue glow. That made me wonder bitterly about how much this dude must make to sit at his desk and send emails all day. Definitely more than Ramy and I did.
“I can’t get into the house.” He informed me. “You know what that means.”
Talisman.
“I’ll look for it.” I offered before he could say anything more.
He looked astonished, “That didn’t take any convincing.”
I explained, “He’s the only one that I’ve seen that can actually hurt you. After seeing you like that, I don’t want- I just don’t that to happen to you again.”
With a strange, soft look in his eyes, Ramy cupped my jaw, pulling me into a deep kiss. After we came up for air, he stayed close, his eyes shut, forehead resting against mine.
With great reluctance, I whispered, “Uh, you should probably let me go before Omar gets home.”
“Probably.”
He assured me that he’d be outside if anything went wrong, seeming just as hesitant to release me.
As I used my debit card to break into Omar’s house, my last neuron announced, ‘Now that I’ve been gay, it’s time to do crimes.’ This is your brain on 2018 Tumblr, kids. And if you’re wondering how I know how to pick locks, it’s because I’m a dumbass that’s locked myself out of my own home more times than I care to admit. No cool explanation or dark, criminal past for me, just pure idiocy.
Once I was inside, I steeled myself, taking a deep breath before exploring the place. Using my phone flashlight, I slowly searched around the living room, then froze when faced with a stiff, gangly figure in the middle of the living room.
The hoofed jinn.
I hurried to turn my light off, but then promptly realized that it wasn’t reacting to my presence at all. It was standing with its head bowed towards the floor, long, bony arms dangling by its sides. It reminded me of a broken doll that had been left propped up by the child that had destroyed it.
Gingerly, I approached the stationary jinn, trying to swallow back the lump that had appeared in my throat. Deep scratches lined its arms. As I followed the scrapes down to its fingers, I noticed that its fingernails were cracked, darkened with dried blood. It had self-immolated. When I leaned down a bit to look at its face, I saw that it had clawed at its cheeks as well, leaving ghastly trails from just beneath its lower eyelids to its jaw.
Is this what happened to jinn that’ve been enslaved? Do they lose their minds? Or did Omar make it do this to itself?
As I observed the hoofed jinn in its mutilated state, it remained completely immobile. Afraid to turn my back to it, I sidled away, keeping the creature in my sight as I found a set of stairs leading to the second floor. Instantly, my heart sank. In elegant calligraphy, scripture was painted onto the wall, the characters similar to the ones that Matthew’s simple wooden medallions had inscribed on them.
The entire wall was a talisman.
Under my breath, I uttered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Could I cover it up, somehow? Would defacing it remove its protection from the house? Even though I’m not religious myself, the idea of vandalizing something sacred didn’t sit right with me. Maybe I could just use a pen to change one of the characters up ever so slightly. That wouldn’t be too disrespectful, would it? If I’m wrong about that, please forgive me.
The hoofed jinn continued to remain still as I went back into the kitchen, thinking I had seen a set of dry erase markers on the refrigerator. I passed the patio, seeing Ramy’s eyes reflecting the pool lights from where he’d reclined on a lounger outside, watching me through the window.
After retrieving a black marker, I headed back towards the scripture on the wall. My nerves must have been getting to me because I was relieved to see that the hoofed jinn hadn’t moved. I had expected it to be gone when I returned, stalking me from somewhere else in the house.
I went up to the middle of the stairway and uncapped the marker, unsure if I was doing something blasphemous.
A tortured, wheezing noise from behind me was the only warning I had before the hoofed jinn suddenly came to life. Its movements were twitchy, jerking along as if its limbs were acting independently of their owner’s will. Its insect-like movements brought it to the bottom of the stairs, blocking me from going down. Mouth dry, I pressed the marker into the wall, apologizing silently as I quickly added a small tail to one of the characters at the end of the scripture. Hopefully, that’ll be enough to change the meaning.
As the hoofed jinn drew closer, I gritted my teeth, heart beat echoing in my ears as I held my ground, putting complete faith in my second wish. Its slender fingers stretched towards me as its hooves thudded on the stairs.
In a rare bout of courage, or possibly dumbassedry, I smacked its hand away. The smell of burning skin assaulted my nostrils, but the hoofed jinn pulled me away from the scripture, its flesh beginning to bubble as it held on to me. Throughout the duration of this, it remained speechless, it’s face devoid of expression.
As I tried to pry its wiry wingers off of my wrist, my hand slipped with a wet ripping sound that I will never forget for as long as I live. I was holding a strip of the hoofed jinn’s melting skin. Gagging, I threw it away from me, still struggling to get free of the creature’s grip. Its flesh continued to redden to a sickening shade of crimson. I kept pulling, trying to ignore the feeling of its skin peeling off from the bone as I tried to get it off of me.
The entire time, it was still silent.
With a chill, it occurred to me then that the hoofed jinn had no free will anymore. It couldn’t even express something as banal as pain without its master’s consent.
With a shout, I launched myself at the hoofed jinn, sending us both tumbling down the stairs. It finally let go of me as we landed at the bottom of the stairs, my shoulder hitting the ground painfully. At least it was carpet.
Without hesitation, I dragged myself away from the hoofed jinn, scrambled towards the kitchen and patio doors. It wheezed, lifting its head as its flayed fingers twitched uselessly. The smell was unbearable. I managed to get my feet under me by grabbing the nearby kitchen table to stabilize myself. The hoofed jinn crawled on its belly after me, leaving a trail of its blood and pieces of blackened skin on the floor.
I threw the patio door open, stumbling as I felt fingers graze my ankle. Ramy was by my side instantly. He reached for the hoofed jinn, then paused, suddenly retracting his arm as if he’d touched something hot.
The hoofed jinn layed in the door way, staring at us with glassy eyes. Similarly, it extended its hand towards us, only to pull it back with a jolt.
“The entire wall is a talisman.” I hurriedly explained.
Ramy rolled his eyes, “Of course it is.”
He stared down at the hoofed jinn. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
After a sigh, he said, “Well, I can’t get in, and this guy can’t leave. There’s nothing left for us to do here.”
The marker hadn’t been enough. The scripture would either have to be completely covered or destroyed to lift the house’s protection.
It took two laundry cycles to get the smell of burnt jinn out of my clothes. I think I used an entire bottle of shampoo trying to get it out of my hair, but even then, it still lingered. Maybe it was in my head.
In the meantime… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the condition that the hoofed jinn was in. How empty it was. Was that what Omar wanted to do with Ramy?
As confident as ever, Ramy assured me that we’d figure something out. He joked that we could simply burn Omar’s house down. At least, I think he was joking. When that happens (not arson, an actual solution), I’ll let you all know.