11. Ode to Madeline: Revenge Tastes Like Candy

Ode to Madeline: Revenge Tastes Like Candy

The sun greeted my eyes before I could even wake up. I thought it was the alarm. However, I didn’t set an alarm. Never had to. No, the billions of watts from the solar radiance of the sun was my alarm. I blinked open my eyes, and—Ow! It’s so bright! I quickly threw myself to the other side, letting the warm sun bathe its rays across my back. The blanket felt nice and comfy. I hope nothing goes wrong this morning.

I got up and limped to the bathroom, blindly whirling around for the faucet, and splashed the fresh, cold water on my face. The bathroom clock read six. It was kind of early, but I’ve gotten used to it. I opened the cabinet behind the mirror and reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste. The tube was nearly empty. Well, let’s make a note of that for today’s grocery list. I squeezed the last remaining slimy substance onto my toothbrush.

Wait, slimy substance? Gosh, Madeline, you’re getting old. Barely pushing twenty and already sounding like a Facebook Mom. Like, who even says that?

I shrugged and closed the cabinet mirror. And found myself a grinning demon standing behind my reflection.

“Morning, Mr. BP. I see you’ve slept well.”

“...”

There was a flicker of movement as I looked away. When I looked down, I saw a brown rope around my neck. This guy, I swear.

“Say, those are some big ropes you got. You planning to hang yourself somewhere?”

“Hohoho, Madeline. You have quite the attitude! Oh, but still so dumb! OMG! My revenge’s gonna taste like candy! SAY YOUR PRAYERS, BITC—”

“You’re making me unhappy~”

“Oh, shit. WAIT—”

But he was already engulfed in the white flame. I ignored his screams and continued brushing my teeth. This is gonna be a daily thing now, isn’t it?

For today, I have two options: the white dress or the beige dress. Which one is better? Hmmmm. Technically, beige is a formal colour in fashion, but it’s also yellowish, which I’m not vibing with. But pure white will make me stand out more, so, well, I don’t know. I wonder if there’s anyone I can ask about this? Oh. I do.

“Hey, Mr. BP! Do you like the beige or the white?”

“Go to hell,” he pulled up the middle finger.

“Beige or white?”

“FUCK YOU!”

“Gosh, I’m gonna need to establish some ground rules around here.”

So while he was taking a bath in a tub of blessed white flame, I changed into the beige dress and twirled around a bit in the mirror. Looking presentable, if I say so myself. I guess tomorrow will be a white-dress kind of day.

Anyway, time for ground rules! I will not let this man run around messing things up in MY house! I quickly scribbled them down on a piece of paper.

“Mr. BP, for as long as you decide to stay here…” I held up the List of Rules.

The smoke trail behind his back made him look like a steam train. “Hoooo… Haaaaa… Hooooo…. Haaaa… Oh, my god. Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

“I’m unhappy.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! FUCK! STOP! AAEAEAEAEAEEIIEIEOEOOO!”

“Alright, I’ll give you some time to cool off because, clearly, you’re not taking me seriously.”

“CURSE YOU, MADELINE! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!”

“Actually, why haven’t you tried pouring water on yourself? It’s just a cute, tiny little flame. It shouldn’t hurt a big, strong warrior such as yourself!” I said in a singsong voice. This is quite entertaining.

“YOU THINK I HAVEN’T FUCKING TRIED, BITCH? HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET ACCESS TO DIVINE FLAME ANYWAY? FUUUUUUUUUUCK, IT HUUUUUUUURRRRRRTTTTTTSSSS!”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, it’s a secret!”

I went downstairs and made breakfast. Asha should still be in bed right now, and I wonder if I can send Mr. BP to get her. Actually, does the white flame spread when it’s active? Might be dangerous.

I made a quick note of the Divine Flame’s possible downside, and put the last smidge of butter in the pan. Yeah, looks like the grocery list will be long. The pan blazed to life with the sizzle of eggs and bacon as the burned victim crawled from the staircase.

“Madeeeliiinee… Help meeee… I’m soooorrryyyy…” He groaned.

“Well, how do I know it’s not just one of your acts?” I was frying eggs, so I didn’t look at him. But the smell from his body smoldering with smoke and ashes gave me an idea.

“Pleaseeee… Can I get a redo…? I promise… I won’t eat you… Ahhh…”

“Nope! A Blood Contract’s eternal!”

“You… tricked… meeeee…”

“Nah. I read you the terms of the contract,” I grabbed the pepper shaker and shook some on the sunny-side egg. “As long as you make me happy, you can have both my body and soul!

“You… lied…”

“Oops, did I not mention? As per the contract, if you ever make me UNHAPPY, you will be PUNISHED with Divine Flame! Easy to remember, right?”

“Nooooo… Not easy… at all…”

“Anyway,” I set Asha’s breakfast plate of bacon and eggs on the table. “Since I see you’re lucid enough to listen, here is the official List of Rules:

1. No harming Asha

2. No killing

3. No eating humans (similar to the second one)

4. No swearing

5. No shouting

6. No pranks

If you don’t follow these rules, I will be very, VERY... You know the word,” I stuck the list to the fridge.

“Yesss… Can I have… food?”

“What’s that? Can’t hear you~”

“Yes… Madeline… Now… Please… Food…”

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“Second rule of House Balcom states: No eating humans! Therefore, Mr. BP, you won’t get to cook or eat your usual delicacies! For as long as you stay in my house, you will eat what I cook!”

He looked very spaced out. So I crouched down and picked his head up by the horns, leaned in, and whispered:

“Am I clear, Mr. BP?”

“Yes, ma’am…”

“Good! Here’s last night’s cup of noodles,” I took out an expired cup of noodles next to Jimmy the dead rat. Extra flavour just for Mr. BP.

He snatched the uncooked noodles from my hand and started gobbling like it was his last supper, slurping and making really weird noises. Well, that’s another rule to the list.

“Rule 7: No making noises when eating!”

“What? C’mon… It’s tasty! Plus, in Japan, making noises when eating indicates you enjoy the food!” He continued slobbering over the noodles like a stray dog.

“No, Mr. BP. We are NOT in Japan. We are in MY house. Do I make myself clear?” I stood up from my chair and cracked my knuckles, for extra measure.

He stopped midway through the slurping. “Nahhh… You’re not gonna do it over… this…”

“I will. Don’t test my patience.”

“No, Madeline. Please, not when this delicious noodle calls for me!”

“I…”

“NO! PLEASE, NO! PLEASE!”

“... am…”

“I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I APOLOGIZE! DON’T DO IT! I’LL DO ANYTHING!”

“...”

“... I’m sorry. It won’t happen again! It’s just… This noodle’s incredibly tasty! And I got carried away!”

“Nice of you to understand where you stand, Mr. BP,” I smiled. “But you forgot one tiny thing!”

“Huh?”

“I just want to see you suffer!” I flashed my brightest, beaming smile.

“What? Wait… NO—”

“I’m unhappy.”

And we all know how that song and dance go. I mean, considering all he’s done to me? That little flame is nothing. Pssshh, it doesn’t hurt THAT much.

“IT HUURRRRRTTTSSSSS SOOOO MUCH!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Oh, he’s such a drama queen.

“Hey, Mommy!” Asha sprinted through the door. “Do we have bacon? Do we have bacon? Do we have bacon?!”

“Oh, yes, sweetie, how did you know?”

“I smelled something toasty!” She grinned.

“Yeah, well, something’s toasting, alright.” I glanced over to the burned victim.

“Yup, as toasty as a French toast.”

I glanced over her shoulder, and flinched at the purple, ugly, bulbous bruise on her neck—the product of yesterday’s accident. I already applied some ice on it, but… it will take a long time to heal. I… No, I don’t want to talk about it…

It’s just…

It felt like my heart was hammered with nails every time I looked at her hideous wound…

But at the very least, the demon will hurt her no longer.

I’m sorry, Asha. I will never let you get hurt again.

“Hey, demon!” I shouted while putting some wrappings around Asha’s neck.

“… Please… no… more…”

”I’m unhappy. VERY unhappy.”

“FUC—”

After a nice, hearty breakfast, we had some time left before Asha had to go to school. It was just first grade, but she must get into the habit of early attendance if she were to succeed in academics and future careers. For today, I told her to not speak of the injury, but I can’t deny I died inside every time I saw those wrappings on my baby. You just have to do better, Madeline.

Also, she had a lot of questions about the toasty Mr. BP.

“Mommy! Were you hurt? How did he escape? How’s he here? Why’s he burned?”

“Okay, one question at a time, sweetie. I wasn’t hurt, but thanks for asking! I and Mr. BP had a long chat, and he promised to be a good boy. That is all! And from now on, if he ever tries to hurt us, Madam Witch Mommy will punish him!”

“Isn’t that right, Mr. BP?”

He smoldered in silence.

“He’s just a bit under the weather. Anyway, Asha, are you ready for school?”

“Yes, Mom! I got the pencils, the eraser, the books, the notebooks, the backpacks, the shoes, the…”

“Nice, nice! Okay, then get ready! We’re going in five minutes!”

“What about Mr. BP? Can he come with us, Mom?”

“Sure, he can! Right, Mr. BP?” I crouched down and whispered to his unconscious corpse.

“...”

“He said yes!”

☆☆☆

We parked in front of Wood's Canary Elementary. Asha quickly grabbed her stuff and climbed over Mr. BP’s sizzling body to get out, staining his black coat with her dirty bootprints. She accidentally kicked his face while she was almost out.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m sure he won’t mind! Go, have fun!”

She waved goodbye and blew kisses my way. Then, she dashed inside the brick building. Gosh, I know I’ve done it many times before, but every time I see her run in, I can’t help but miss her.

A hushed rustling sound emerged as Mr. BP awoke, looking utterly confused, and dare I say, a bit scared.

“WHERE AM I, MADELINE? Are you kidnapping me? NO, NO, NO! PLEASE! PLEASE DON’T DUMP ME IN THE LANDFILL! ANYWHERE BUT THE LANDFILL! I’VE SLEPT THERE BEFORE. THERE WERE SO MANY RATS!!!!!”

“Relax. We’re at Asha’s school.”

“ ‘Wood’s Canary Elementary’. Damn, what a stupid name.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“FUCK! WAIT, NO. I MEAN, FUDGE! FUDGE, MA’AM, IS THE CORRECT WORD!” He raised his right hand and saluted me. Hehehe. I like this feeling of power.

“Anyway, we’re going to buy some groceries now. You, mister, will carry the bags,” I turned the key and kicked the car into gear.

“Heh, this is a sweet four-wheel you got here, Madeline. Toyota?”

“Yup.”

“And you keep it spectacularly clean! Wow! As expected of the one who bested me!”

“Wasn’t that hard to best you,” I smirked.

“Tch. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gosh, women can’t take a compliment.” He muttered.

“What was that?”

“NOTHING, MA’AM!”

“You’re shouting pretty loud, mister. What was Rule 5?”

“What? Uhh… No swearing?”

“Close. No shouting.”

“Shit! WAIT! NO! I MEAN SHOOT! Yes! Shoot!”

“Yup. Otherwise, I will…”

He immediately sat straight up, squeezing his eyes closed to mentally prepare for the immolation.

“Say the word!”

He flinched in response. But nothing happened. No white flame emerged from inside his body.

“Hah! Got you!”

He growled under his breath, glaring with bloodshot eyes toward the smirking me. But he knows he can’t do anything, and he knows that I know that he can’t do anything.

“Ughhh… Alright, whatever,” he slumped back in his seat. “How did you even know how to do a Blood Contract, anyway?”

“Secret!”

“Tch.”

We drove the rest of the way in silence. But my silence was quiet satisfaction. His was suppressed boiling rage. Heh, served him right. No one hurts my Asha and get away scot-free. I’m gonna enjoy watching him suffer for as long as eternity lasts.

Revenge tastes like the sweetest candy.