Santi: The Devil's Pioneer

Chapter 11 - The Morning After

    "Anyway, I don't think my friends are here. Those doofuses know better than to get arrested before the first day of school." Emily hugs her knees to her body and sinks into her chest. "I am so dead. Dad is so gonna kill me."

She grabs the bonnet on her head and covers her face with it. Santi didn't understand it.

"Why?"

"I'm not supposed to do stuff like this."

"Why?"

The alcohol must've worn off Emily for she was talking more seriously this morning.

"You don't get arrested on your first day to school. Especially on senior year." She muffles under the bonnet.

"Why?" Santi asks once again.

"Damn, girl, why you gotta ask all these questions? No daddy wants to see their daughter in jail. Not for the first time, and hella not for the fourth time." She answers, shaking her head at herself.

Santi could feel the self-disappointment radiating off Emily. It was an emotion she remembered as often associated with humans after doing something horrible.

"Then, why'd you do it?" She asks as she finally understands the conflict of emotions Emily felt.

"I-I don't know. It was fun. It was a party. Look, would you just shut up? I get enough crap from my father. I don't need a stranger weighing in on my problems." Emily snaps and gets up on her feet, walking away from Santi.

This was another concept Santi never understood about humans. Their need for fun. Such neediness that they sacrifice everything they have for so little of it.

As Santi looks around, she notices a group of weird goth kids hanging out beside her. There were three girls and a boy. The boy kept looking at her. He was probably around Emily's age. As the group talked more, the boy finally approached her bravely.

"Hi, I'm Marcus. I have something to ask you."

Marcus was a tall lanky, white kid. His hair was jet black and spiky. His nose and mouth were pierced. Santi looks at him seeing the poster boy for hell worshippers. His face screamed her father's name in worship, no doubt. His lips were painted black. His eyes were covered with sheer white contact lenses.

"That girl that you were with? Emily Hilton? She owes me money. Are you her friend?"

Santi hesitates. Hell wasn't a place for friendship. She stays silent and Marcus continues to speak.

"You're gonna give me back the money she owes me or your friend gets slit." He threatened as he stands up and looks around to see if any of the other detainees were looking at them.

Santi was taken aback by this brazen young fellow. Clearly, he didn't know who he was dealing with. Angry, she stands up and grabs Marcus by the chain sewed on his collar.

"Listen here, you little punk. She is not my friend, but she will not be giving you your stupid-faced paper bills." She spews as she throws his back to the wall. Santi turns around to see the three goth girls looking their way. Their eyes were cautious but fearless. As was the situation for most girl groups. They draw their strength from the fact that they come as a pack. Pick with one, you pick with them all.

Santi glares past them, but the blonde-haired goth yanks her back by the arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" The blonde asks

God, Santi's first week on Earth and already she was terrorized by blondes. She yanks her arm back strong enough for the blonde to scrunch her face in pain.

"Marcus was talking to you." The jet-black-haired teen whispers, avoiding calling the attention of the cop looking around. "Why'd you have to be so tough? He only wants the money he's owed."

By this time, Marcus had already fixed himself up and was walking towards the group.

The jet-black-haired girl who sent threatening glares to Santi meets him halfway and kisses him sloppily. Must've been a girlfriend. Santi rolls her eyes at them. Were they so self-conscious and insecure they feel like they had to make out publicly in a crowded jail cell?

The two lets go of each other and faces Santi with their arms linked.

"Let her go, guys. We'll get Emily Hilton somehow. She'll trip herself up one of these days and she'll be spiraling down on us." Marcus tells the girls and instantly they leave Santi alone.

Santi, unbothered but humored, makes her way to Emily who was chatting up with an older man. He had a young and fit physique, but his face held lines and rough white stubble.

"Hey, friend. Guess who I met here by accident?" Emily chats her up, grabbing her arm, making her stay by her side. "This is Sid, was it?"

Emily's fake smile was so evident, her mouth must've hurt from smiling too much. Santi reads this as a sign of danger, as she had her share of dangerous pricks on Hell. It was not a place for friendly demons.

"You really should give me your phone number and address. I'll look you up when I get out. I just have to patch some things up." The older man says with a creepy smile plastered on his face. By now, his hand was brushing up and down against Emily's arm. Emily winces but ignores it.

"Yeah, I would, but I definitely forgot my phone. I wondered where it is by now. I swore to have brought it with me after roughing up the po-po."

As Emily says this, the man slightly angers and grabs her arm, obviously unsatisfied with her answer.

Now, this was a scenario Santi was definitely familiar with.

"Sir, please get your hands off her." She says, not looking up.

"Why do you care, princess? Is she your girlfriend?" He mocks and laughs as he pinches her arm tighter that Emily winced in pain. Santi sees her reaction and slaps the man's hand off Emily's arm.

"Ow, hey! That hurt." The man points a finger at Santi. "You have got to learn to respect your elders, young lady!" The man curses as he aims a punch at Santi.

Emily who stood beside her ducked to avoid the fist coming their way. Santi, fearless as she was, met his eyes, and without wincing, stopped his fist midway.

"Well, you bitch." The man mutters under his breath before lunging at Santi. Santi manages to avoid his body dropping on hers by stepping aside just in time. The cop by the cell hears the commotion and slams the jail cell with a metal chair.

"No fights!" He said as two other cops scramble to open the cell, separating the people who were gathering around Santi and the man.

"You!" The cop points to Santi, "Leave now. Your 24 hours is up. You," He turns to the man, "stay for 5 more hours, that's two more for starting a fight."