She stopped and turned to look at him. Recognition flashed in her eyes almost immediately. “Hello, Trevor. I did not realize it was you. Yes, I am returning to the dormitory.”

“Want a ride?”

She hesitated. Though she was learning to control her deadly touch, she was hardly ready to test it on a human, let alone the person she was supposed to be protecting. Still, the distance to her building was not insignificant, and having to walk that distance at the pace of a normal person was wearing on her patience. “Is it alright if I sit in the back?”

“You’re not gonna kill me like some crazy hitchhiker, are you?”

“I am not a hitchhiker. You know me. You offered me the ride. Why would you think I would do such a thing?”

Her response took him by surprise. “Yeah, I guess it was a pretty lame joke.”

“Ah, it was meant to be witty.” A small smile formed at the corner of her mouth. “I have not intention of ending your life, Trevor.” She paused for a moment as she opened the back door. “Not tonight, at any rate.”

Trevor smirked. “Good to know.” After Sarah closed the door and buckled her seat belt, he shifted the car back into drive and headed home.

Sarah found the weeks that followed to be uneventful. She continued to practice controlling the fire within her, and was polite to Trevor whenever she saw him in the hall. Though he still couldn’t muster up the courage to stand up to his roommate, he no longer found himself forced to sleep anywhere but his own bed. As the end of the semester drew near, he left his room only to eat or attend class. The panic that came over the students as finals approached made it easier to keep an eye on him.

Mark didn’t come back to his room the day he finished his last final for the semester. This was nothing exceptional. When he didn’t return for a few more days, word began to spread that he’d partied too hard and ended up in the hospital. By the time a week had passed, the prevailing rumor was that he’d overdosed at a frat party and jumped off a third-story balcony. Few people actually approached Trevor to ask what had happened, but if they had they’d learn that he couldn’t verify any of the rumors. He filed a missing persons report, and that was the end of his involvement.

It was times like this he wished he had a laptop. He was torn between wanting to surf the internet and he need to spend as little time as possible in the presence of his roommate. If he had a notebook computer, he could relax in the lobby and surf on the building’s new WiFi network. He checked the clock on his phone. The local bookstore would be open for another hour. If he hurried, he might be able to find a book that would keep him occupied for a few hours. 

Trevor’s pace quickened as he made his way across the vast parking lot. For a moment, he forgot where he parked. For situations such as this, he tied a small red ribbon to the top of his antenna. He’d seen his mother do it with a MADD ribbon, and though it was a great way to pick his car out of a crowd. The parking lot lights weren’t particularly bright, but it was enough. He’d walked right past his car at some point, forcing him to retrace his steps.

The car grumbled as it came to life, the various loose parts inside of it demanding Trevor’s attention as he slowly pulled backward out of his space. He kept an eye out for campus police as he built up speed, first five and then ten miles over the 10-mile-an-hour speed limit. By the time he made it to the main road, he was down to forty-five minutes to browse and buy a book.

Upon arriving at the bookstore, Trevor hastily parked in the first spot he could find and dashed to the store. He made a bee-line for the graphic novel section. He picked up a collection of comics from a series about detectives that work with superheroes, and an independent release about a young man who had to defeat his love interest’s evil exes before he could date her. Feeling proud of himself for not buying another X-Men collection, he paid for the books and headed to his car.

As he drove back to his dormitory, he saw a woman walking along the side of the road. As he approached her, he realized it was Sarah. He was in luck! Not only did he have an opportunity to talk to her, but he also had a chance to pay her back for letting him crash on her couch. He pulled up alongside her and awkwardly leaned across his car to roll down the window.

The experiment wasn’t complete. Not yet. Sarah had no idea how long she could control the fire within her. She hoped that at some point it would become second nature.

Trevor didn’t notice the sun going down in the window behind him. If he had, he would have bundled up his game console and locked it back up in his trunk. Lost in the magical world of an elfin adventurer, time became meaningless to him. Instead, the clanking of the cylinders of his door tugged him back to reality. He quickly paused his game to save it, but it was already too late. Mark swaggered through the door, and his eyes shot to the controller in Trevor’s hand.

“Dude,” he said, “when did we get this?”

“I’m borrowing it,” Trevor lied.

Mark glanced at the pile of game cases next to his roommate, and his face fell. “Aw, man, can you get Madden for it?”

Can I get it? Trevor thought, Why? Why would I buy a game for you? “Well, I’m not really planning on buying games for a console I don’t own,” Trevor said, continuing his ruse. “I’m only borrowing it for a couple weeks.”

“You work at a game store, don’t you? Why don’t you use your discount and get us some games?”

This was precisely why he didn’t want Mark to know he had a console. Without thinking, he was willing to appropriate someone else’s property as his own. In his first week living with Mark, he’d lost a TV and a DVD player to him. “I use that money for food,” Trevor explained. “I just play games on my break. I don’t usually have time to finish them anyway.”

“Fine, whatever, be a dick,” Mark ceded.

Trevor sighed and began packing the console up. He was no longer able to hide it from his roommate. His only options at this point were to sell it just to spite him, or keep it and say he’d bought one. Neither was ideal, as either one would meant giving up control to Mark. As Trevor packed the game console back into his trunk, Mark took control of the TV and began his nightly ritual of channel surfing.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just thought I’d stop by and say hi. I was wondering if you wanted to join us for lunch later, but…”

“As I said, I am busy. Perhaps another time.”

“Yeah, sure. See you around.” He walked away from the door and into the elevator. When she was sure he was gone, Sarah left her room and returned to her makeshift lab.

Once the elevator doors closed, Trevor sulked. He couldn’t place his finger on it, but there was something about Sarah that drew him in. She was cute, no doubt that was part of it, but the school was full of cute girls. Something else about her kept him captivated. He tried not to dwell on it, and returned to his room. Mark had class most of the day, which meant the space was all his. He locked the door, then moved to the foot of his bed and unlocked the chest that rested there. He lifted the lid and  removed a video game console. The power and video cords were wrapped around it, and atop it sat a single controller.

If he had been a few years younger, having a game console would probably have made him all sorts of unwanted friends. Now there were incredibly common. It was more likely to attract opportunistic thieves than bored crowds. Between that and his roommate’s “What’s mine is mine, what’s yours is mine” outlook, its presence was better kept a secret. Trevor didn’t enjoy sharing, particularly with Mark.

After pummeling a steady stream of opponents for an hour, Trevor turned off his game and moved to his computer. The World of BLARG was practically silent, so he decided to take what was left of this rare silent moment to study.

In her musty basement, Sarah finally found the key to making physical contact. Though se had disintegrated two of her three subjects during the experiment, it was a success. Now, her challenge was learning her limits and then moving beyond them. Free from the constraints of the Erelim Collective, Sarah was now capable of doing something no angel had done in thousands of years: she could touch a human without destroying them in an instant. She realized something else, as well: she was capable of feeling pride.

She repeated the test a few more times. Her results remained the same. As soon she came within a few centimeters of her subjects, the heat within her burned them. Actual contact was out of the question, and until she broke that barrier should could not move on to the second phase of her experiment. Seeing that they could take no more of her tests, Sarah left the vampires in the basement and returned to the dormitory.

There were no factions of the Bene Elohim nearby, though a few people had taken up what the organization referred to as “freelancing.” The need to avoid them, as well as the Erelim, made traveling in the open difficult. Being disconnected from the angel’s collective meant she was unable to sense them when they were nearby. It also meant that no one knew she was here, and that could not change. She had been able to disappear from their radar once, but it would not happen again. 

It was nearly midnight when the revelation dawned on her: she was going about the experiment completely backward. She was focusing on her hand, trying to push the energy within her away. What if she were to channel it elsewhere instead? She spent the evening attempting to channel the heat from her right hand into her left. She wanted to be ready to try this new development as soon as the freelancers went back to their day jobs.

“Have you ever known me to lie?”

“Suppose not.” He collected his belongings and swung his backpack over his shoulder.

“Perhaps now you will be able to sleep in your own room.”

“Aww. You’ll miss me a little bit.”

“I will still see you around the building,” Sarah said.

Trevor smiled. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

Sarah shut the door behind Trevor as he left. If she felt frustration or relief, she might have sighed. Instead, she returned to her desk and listened to the bustling of the dormitory. When the majority of the students filtered out of the building and headed to their classes, Sarah left the building and headed into the residential area of town. She’d rented a house there. It was smaller than the other homes on the block, but it was on a sizable plot of land. She was cautious as she entered, making her way slowly through the house as she headed into the kitchen. From there, she walked into the basement.

The space underneath the house was unfinished, its walls bare cement. Bound to the walls with steel chains were two men and a woman. They were emaciated and pale, their cracked dry lips hiding blood-stained teeth.

“It is a poor thing that I must do to you,” Sarah said as she stood at the bottom of the stairwell. “Know that your suffering serves a greater purpose.”

Sarah approached the man to her left. His shirt was in tatters, his torso charred black. He shrank in fear as her hand approached his chest. He could feel the heat radiating from it. She held her hand close, but did not touch him. The skin near it began to grow red and blister. At first, he simply glared at her and breathed heavily, but the pain grew as his skin began to crack and peel away. When he could no longer take it, he began to growl, and Sarah pulled her hand away.

“Please, stop,” the female begged.

“Once I have mastered the fire, you will be set free,” Sarah returned.

“At least… at least have the decency to feed us.”

“When I am done, you will have no need for such a thing.”

The female was darker-skinned than either of the males, and had more exposed skin than either of them. When Sarah caught her, she was wearing a bikini. Capturing her without turning her to dust had been difficult. Sarah moved a hand toward her waist, careful to stop just before making contact. Again, she held her hand near the captive’s skin, this time until it began to singe and smoke.

“I am progressing too slowly,” she observed.

As he took the plate from Sarah, he asked, “You sure you don’t want a roommate?”

“Quite positive.”

“There’s something about this room. I wake up feeling better than good. I can’t explain it.”

“Perhaps you should put forth the effort in obtaining a space of your own,” Sarah suggested. “At the very least, you will not have to worry about roommates making advances toward the girls you are attracted to.”

Trevor chose to eat some of his orange rather than respond to Sarah’s comment. When he was done, he stood up and handed the plate to her. “Well, I appreciate your hospitality,” he said.

“Let us hope I need not offer it again.”

There was a knock at the door. Sarah rose from her seat and opened the door, and before she could speak a girl stormed in. Her hair was dyed a bold shade of red that did not occur normally in humans. Sarah quickly stepped out of her way.

“How dare you,” the girl started, prodding Trevor’s chest with her forefinger. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, trying to make Mark feel like shit just because I don’t want to fuck you. And here you are, shacking up with the weird chick. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

This might have been the first time Monique acknowledged his existence outside of class. “We’re not shacking up,” Trevor replied. “I just needed a place to sleep. And fuck you, she’s not weird.”

“Look at this fucking room. It’s like a hospital room. Or an insane asylum. There isn’t even a TV or a computer. No wonder she’s easy, she’s obviously fucked in the head. She’ll probably kill herself when you stop fucking her.”

“We aren’t having sex,” Trevor reasserted.

“Please,” Monique said. “I know a slut when I see one.” If the insult had any effect on Sarah, she did not show it.

“Even if we were sleeping together — which we aren’t — what business is it of yours?”

Monique sneered at him. “As much business as my sex life is yours.”

“Well, it kind of becomes a problem when I can’t sleep in my own bed for days on end.”

“You found somewhere to sleep.”

“I will not allow him to stay here every night,” Sarah interrupted.

“No one asked you, weirdo. Mind your own business.”

Trevor opened his mouth to speak, but Sarah beat him to the punch. “I suggest you find a new place to spread your legs,” she said, “before Mark discovers you have given him gonorrhea.”

Monique’s jaw dropped. “How dare you—”

“Word spreads quickly in a small community such as this. If it has already reached someone as introverted as myself, I imagine it is only a matter of time before Mark discovers it.”

“Fuck you weirdo. I keep my shit clean. Anyone who says different is just jealous of all the guys that want me instead of them.” Monique glared at Sarah and stormed out of the room.

As the night’s events picked up steam, activity in the lobby died down. Realizing this was his best chance to get some rest, Trevor put away his game and positioned his backpack under his head. Drifting comfortably off to sleep was impossible given the circumstances, he made the best of it. In no time, he was asleep.

In his self-pity, Trevor forgot the cruelty of drunk students, and would have been the victim of any number of pranks if it weren’t for the intervention of Sarah. She had taken to scouting the halls of the building at least a few times a night, making sure that the spawn of the Nephilim did not gain entry. She began her first patrol shortly after midnight, and found Trevor curled up on a small loveseat.

“You have a knack for choosing poor places to sleep,” she mused.

Though she did not speak loudly, her voice broke through the veil of dreams and found its way to him. Although he was up in an instant, waking felt as though it was gradual and relaxing. “Having shitty roommates will do that to you.”

“You will have to find a better way to deal with your problems than running from them.”

“I’m not running from anything.”

“Your sleeping quarters would say otherwise.”

“Whatever.” Trevor turned his gaze to the ceiling and tried to go back to sleep.

“I will let you sleep on my couch again,” Sarah said. “Though I must point out that I have no intention of letting it become a habit.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Trevor smiled and leapt to his feet. He grabbed his backpack and followed Sarah back to her room. He was beginning to enjoy her company a great deal. The short journey back to Sarah’s room was silent, but upon entering her room, Trevor asked, “Why don’t you have a roommate?”

“Because I do not want one.”

Trevor pulled his blanket tightly around himself. “I don’t want one, either, but I still end up with one every year.”

“I am better at negotiating than you.” Sarah turned off the light and silently moved onto her bed. It seemed to Trevor that her hair shimmered in the moonlight that shone through her window, but he shrugged it off and went to sleep.

Frustration boiled within him. The semester had barely begun, and already he deplored the person he’d be living with for the next nine months. Trevor regretted not moving off-campus. At least then he wouldn’t have to deal with sleeping next to someone he wanted to beat to a pulp.

“Hey, man,” his roommate said, “what’s the deal with you knocking on the door last night? Didn’t you see the sock on there? You know that means I’m bangin’ a chick.”

“Mark, you were fucking someone I really had a thing for. You know that. I’ve mentioned her before.”

Mark shrugged. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense. It’s not like someone is forcing you to play ‘the game.’” Trevor flexed his index and middle fingers in the air as he completed the sentence.

“Who the fuck still uses air quotes, man?” Uninterested in conversing any further, Mark plugged his ears with headphones and began spinning the wheel on his portable music player. Trevor could hear the music pouring out, the sound becoming tinny and indecipherable at such a distance.

“By the way,” Mark shouted over the sound of his headphones, “she’s coming over again tonight, so it would be a good idea if you made yourself scarce.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Trevor spoke at a normal volume, which was not enough to make it past the tiny speakers blaring in Mark’s ears. “This is my room, too, you know.”

Mark removed a bud from one ear. “Huh?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” Trevor began packing an overnight bag while he thought about what friends might let him stay with them on such short notice.

“Stop being such a bitch, maybe you’ll get laid more.” Mark pushed the tiny speaker back into his ear and went back to ignoring his roommate. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and smiled. After making sure he had his cell phone and charger, Trevor slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out of his room.

By this time, most students were done with class for the day. The halls were bustling with people on their way to bars and parties. Trevor scanned the crowd for a friendly face, but found none. Resigned to his fate, he made his way to the ground floor, where he might at least find a couch to lay down on.

Trevor kept an eye out for Sarah as he walked back to his building. He stopped on her floor to see if she was in her room before heading to his, but when he knocked on her door he heard nothing. When he finally returned to his room, he found it was in more or less the same state he’d left it. If it weren’t for the fact that half of the laundry on the floor had been removed, he might have thought his roommate hadn’t come back at all.

After placing his backpack on his bed, Trevor sat down at his desk and tapped the space bar on his keyboard. After a few seconds, it woke from low-power mode. Its screen lit up and requested his password. He typed the twelve-character string with practiced ease, then fired up his web browser and headed to the small message board he and his band of internet friends maintained.

The World of BLARG had started as a joke on USENET, and eventually blossomed into his own little corner of the web. Although most of the software was free, he and his friends prided themselves on the massive collection of emoticons and hacks they’d shoehorned into the system. At the end of the day, no matter what had happened, this was home.

There were a few interesting posts that had come up during the day, but nothing of importance. His friends in Europe were all in offline, even the usual night owls. Most of the people currently online were newer members, a third generation of “BLARGERS” ushered in by the old-in-internet-terms second generation. The site was never advertised, which maintained an air of exclusivity, but they never turned away anyone interested in joining them.

Trevor wasn’t particularly interested in conversing with newbies, but he also didn’t feel like leaving his room, so he entered the main forum and created a new topic: “My roommate slept with the girl of my dreams last night.” It wasn’t that he wanted pity. BLARG was a place to vent frustration as much as it was a place to have nonsensical conversation.

Within a minute, he had two replies. The first was from a girl he knew only as “AuroraBorealis,” who simply replied, “Awww.” Next to her comment was a frowning smilie. The second, from “Comrade Infinity,” said, “Did you video tape it?” His smilie gave a wink and a thumbs up. Following that, in parenthesis, he wrote: “For the people, of course.”