Page 13 of Heavensent & Hellbent

Once upstairs, I took out my laptop, sat crossed-legged on my bed, and googled “jinn.” One article piqued my interest:

In Islam, humanity starts with a jinn’s rebellion when Shaitan, the devil, refuses to bow to Adam. He is consequently expelled from heaven, sparking his conflict with God and humanity. Shaitan later deceives Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, resulting in their banishment from paradise.

Shaitan and other jinns are created from smokeless fire and share a spiritual similarity with humans, as they possess the capacity for independent moral judgment and free will. Not all jinn are strictly evil. In fact, many have acted as friends and supporters of mankind, although interactions between the two are discouraged.

I opened my window a crack to let out some of the dead air in the room and stop the sudden suffocating feeling within me.Then, I got back onto my bed and searched the street the diner was on for news of any murders or crime. Nothing.

The translucent face and black eyes were seared in my mind. Even so, I couldn’t help but doubt my memory. Was the person just pale? Had I imagined the pattern of veins on his face? And were his eyes simply dark rather than black? In my gut, I knew that what I had seen was not human. But was that because it was easier to think that than accept that I had just witnessed a person be killed? In self-defense, but still.

I checked the time; it was late for both Nic and Azar. I knew Azar was at a party anyway, and likely wouldn’t reply, but I chanced it with Nic. When I FaceTimed her, she answered on the fourth ring.

“Why are you up?” I asked, even though I was the one calling her.

“I can’t stop scrolling on TikTok, and now I need to try Everything Bagel seasoning. Do you have a Trader Joe’s near you?”

“Um, I’ll check,” I began, and the next words spilled out of me so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to back out. “Can I tell you something and you won’t think I’ve gone mad?”

“Obviously.”

And then I told her exactly what had happened outside the diner. I word-vomited, and there was a long silence afterward.

“Are you being serious?” she asked, her tone flat.

“I mean, yeah.”

“You saw a demon get their neck snapped?”

“Yes.”

“By the boy from your nightmare?”

“Yes.”

“And you think he might be a demon, too?”

“Possibly. I’m not sure.”

Silence.

Then: “I think you’re still really jet-lagged and met some strange people down an alleyway.”

I sighed. “I know what I saw.” My voice wavered, contradicting my words.DidI know what I saw?

Her face softened. “Okay. Have you called the police?”

“What could they do?” I asked, as though the question was ridiculous.

“I mean, you were physically attacked. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, impatient now.

“Okay, that’s good. And the person who was attacked—did you just leave him there?” Her voice told me she was not judging but assessing.

“Well, no, he sort of…” I trailed off.

“He sort of what?”

“He disappeared.”