"Did you find anything useful?" Abigail asked.
"Not yet," Mitchell said. He reclined on his beanbag chair with his water bong and stared at the ceiling.
Abigail had been here for two days, and as yet, hadn't seen a single customer come into his shop. He alternated time smoking his product and looking through the binder and making notes.
Luckily, the store had a fully stocked fridge and a microwave, probably in case Mitchell got the munchies. She waited as patiently as she could, under the circumstances, but any more time spent lazing around grated on her nerves.
"What have you found?"
"Just bits and pieces," Mitchell said. "But, most of the words don't make sense. I ordered a dictionary, and it should get here in a couple of days."
"More days?"
"Things like this take time," Mitchell said.
Abigail groaned in frustration, rubbing her face with her hands. "You need to stop smoking so much."
"It helps me think."
"No, it doesn't. It helps you get high."
"And that's when I do my best thinking."
"I'm getting impatient, and that's not a good thing for you."
Mitchell sighed, and then held out the bong toward her. "You want a hit?"
"No," she said. "I don't smoke."
"It'll help you settle. You need to step back and relax for a minute."
"How can I relax? I have people hunting for me and just found out I'm turning into some demonic creature bent on killing people.
"In fact," she added after a short pause. "I'm not sure how you can relax. You said yourself that I'll get worse over time. What happens when I decide I need to kill again?"
He froze in his chair, staring at her with his mouth hanging open.
"Is that like … are you feeling … I mean, is it something …?"
"No," she said. "Jesus, relax. I'm not going to kill you."
The tenseness rolled out of his muscles, and he chuckled. It sounded forced. "Yeah, of course not … why would you? I'm the one that knows Latin."
"Exactly," she said. "I still need you. For now."
He coughed and set the bong aside. "You know, now that you mention it, I did find something interesting when I looked through all the stuff."
"Oh?"
"I translated some things and realized, after a while, that it had nothing to do with what's going on with you. Turns out that the binder has way more stuff in it than just the ritual that Frieda did."
"What do you mean? What did you find?"
"Some sort of an elixir you can make. It doesn't bring people back from the dead, exactly, but it can help them stay."
"Stay how?"
"No idea. But, maybe like if a demon wanted to take over a body and preserve it, it might use this."
"How does that help me?"
Mitchell shrugged. "No idea. I said I found it interesting. Not useful."
Suddenly, a beeping and buzzing sounded. Abigail jumped up, hand shooting to the gun on her hip.
"Hey, relax, it's just my phone," Mitchell said.
"What the hell was that sound?"
"My ringtone? R2D2."
"You're kidding?"
"I know, right? I didn't think it was in the store, either, but when I found it, I knew I had to download it. Do you want me to show you where it is?"
Abigail just stared at him.
"I'll take that as a no."
He read over the message, and then put his phone away.
"What is it?" Abigail asked.
"Nothing." Mitchell looked at the floor, and his voice rose a notch. "Just a funny post from one of my friends. You know, a cute cat meme."
"Give me your phone."
"Hey, you know, I think it's time that I get back to work. Do you mind hanging out up front in case I get a customer?"
Abigail narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't make me ask again."
With a sigh, Mitchell retrieved the phone and handed it to her. She glanced it over, frowning. "What is this?"
"A notice from a friend," Mitchell said. "He sent one for your trial as well, letting me know why I hadn't had any business."
"This says they're holding Frieda?"
He nodded. "They arrested her."
