Page 13 of My Roommate from Hell
A ripple of pure fear goes through the crowd. Some of them stagger, horror etched into their features. Zarmenus takes a step forward. There’s a moment of quiet, and then someone screams. The protesters break rank, and chaos breaks out, with many of them running away as fast as they can.
I look behind me, and my breath catches. Something impossible is happening.
Zarmenus might look human, but the shadow he is casting onto the building behind him is not. It’s the shadow of a tall, winged monster. Curved horns poke out from the top of his forehead, andhis hands have transformed into talons, with long, pointed nails that look razor sharp. Tentacles burst from his back, flailing through the air. While Zarmenus is standing perfectly still, his shadow looks like an enormous eldritch monster.
“Boo,” says Zarmenus.
Most of the protesters turn and run screaming, leaving only a few horror-struck stragglers.
As they run for their lives, Zarmenus’s shadow shrinks, returning to its normal size. I notice the ruby pendent of his necklace is glowing. Only a few of the protesters have stayed in place, including the guy who threw an egg at me. He slowly puts the egg back into the carton and closes the lid.
Zarmenus smiles at me. “Shall we?”
With that, we walk onto the path that goes past the dorm buildings and leads to the main part of the campus. Unlike Clark Hall, the Point campus looks just how it did online. It might even be prettier than it looked in the pictures. As we’re walking, I notice a group of people following us.
Only they aren’t protesters. They’re dressed in black and have cameras hanging around their necks. Paparazzi.
“I’ll deal with them,” says Zarmenus. “Give me a second?”
He approaches the group of paparazzi and speaks to them. A few seconds later, Zarmenus rejoins me, and they leave.
“What did you say to them?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “They work for my dad, part of the whole ‘show mankind we’re not monsters’ thing. I asked them for one afternoon where I can be normal, and I guess they felt bad and obliged.”
There’s an unmissable note of sadness in his voice.
“Does press usually follow you around?” I ask. “Back in Hell, I mean.”
“Unfortunately, yeah. I’d tell you I’m used to it but then I’d be lying. It’s one of those things you never really get comfortable with. And don’t say you’re sorry, it’s not your fault. Humans always do that and I find it off-putting.”
We reach the quad. In the middle of it is a tall white obelisk with a bronze plaque on the bottom. Zarmenus and I approach, and we walk around it. The plaque is dedicated to Sir Henry Point, the school’s founder.
“Hey,” says Zarmenus. He offers me his phone. “Can you take a picture of me? This lighting’s good.”
I take his phone, which is the newest make of iPhone, and he poses in front of the obelisk. I take a few, and when I swipe through find he’s remarkably photogenic. As I take photos, I notice we have a few onlookers. They aren’t paparazzi and don’t seem like protesters; instead they seem like other students who recognize him. I can’t blame them, I’m sure I’d be curious if I saw a demon on campus.
“How are they?” he asks.
“You look good.”
He scrolls through the pictures, and I find myself hoping he likes them. “Nice. I need new pictures for the apps. Are you on any of those, by the way?”
I blink, startled. “Er, no.”
“You should be—you’d clean up. You’ve got this clumsy-little-lamb vibe. It’s cute. There are guys back home who would full-ondevouryou.”
“I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Just take the compliment.”
“Thank you?”
He claps me on the shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
Around the obelisk are a bunch of classrooms as well as a coffee shop called Brewed Awakening, a convenience store, and a bookshop that also sells Point apparel. In the distance is a modern-looking building with gleaming panes of glass, and it’s stunning in a different way from the brick buildings. I recognize it: it’s the Anderson Center, the science and engineering building that houses the Square, one of the biggest interactive screens in the world. Point is obsessed with the Square—almost every brochure about the campus mentions it. I think it’s because Point has a bit of a reputation for beingold-fashioned, and things like the Square show they aren’t stuck in the past. Completely, anyway.
I take a picture of it to send to Ashley.
