by Randall Pine
“Cool. Got it. Thanks.” Simon grabbed Virgil by the collar and dragged him quickly down the hallway, into the darkness.
“Hey!” Virgil protested. But he let himself be pulled along.
They found the bathroom at the end of the hall, and Simon flipped on the light switch inside. The light was a sickly blue that reminded Virgil of a hospital room. He looked back down the hallway and saw Neil watching them.
As Simon closed the door, Virgil could swear he saw a second human-shaped shadow spread out on the wooden floor next to Neil’s, even though no one was standing there.
Then the door was closed, Virgil snapped back to his senses.
“Man, that kid is creepy,” he said. “Also, I know we’re friends, so don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d really prefer it if you handled going to the bathroom on your own.”
“I’m not going to the bathroom...we’re getting out of here.” Simon crossed the small room and stepped up onto the closed toilet seat. There was a small window set into the wall over the tank, a window that looked out over the backyard. Simon opened the window and was relieved to find there was no window screen. He poked his head outside and studied the ground below. “I think we can make it,” he decided.
“Are you crazy? We’re in the second story!” Virgil cried.
“There’s a metal awning over the kitchen window below. I think I can lower myself down onto that, then hop down to the ground.” He pulled his head back inside and turned around, throwing one leg out the window. “Give me a hand.”
“This is so, so stupid,” Virgil grumbled, but he stepped forward and took Simon’s hand.
Simon kicked his other leg out the window and sat on the sill. “This is going to work out great,” he said, nodding enthusiastically.
“Five bucks says it doesn’t,” Virgil replied.
“You’re on.” Simon spun over in the window so his belly was pressing against the sill. Virgil gripped his friend’s arm with both of his own hands, and he lowered Simon down the side of the house. He heard Simon’s sneakers scuff against the metal of the awning, and then the weight of his arms went slack. “I’m good!” Simon called up, and Virgil let go. He peeked out the window and saw Simon hop down from the awning and into the soft grass below.
Simon turned back up and motioned at his friend. “Your turn!”
“Who’s going to help me down?!” Virgil demanded. But Simon just glanced nervously around the backyard, then made impatient arm motions up at Virgil. He grumbled and turned around, sticking one foot out the window.
Virgil pushed himself out, holding onto the windowsill with every ounce of strength he could summon. He gripped it so hard, his fingers turned white. He eased his feet down, swinging them blindly, trying to feel for the metal awning. He hung there for a few seconds, like a cat on a screen door, until finally his toes scraped against metal. He exhaled a sigh of relief. He let go of the sill and dropped down…but he had only found the edge of the awning, and his foot slipped off of it, and he went tumbling down the side of the house. He hit the ground hard and collapsed in a heap.
“Ow,” he said weakly.
Simon frowned down at his friend. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do that,” he said. He reached down and helped Virgil to his feet. “You okay?”
“I’m invincible,” Virgil replied weakly. He swooned, and Simon caught him.
“Yeah. Pretty invincible.”
“Look, can we just go fight the demon now?” Virgil asked, steadying himself.
Simon opened his mouth to respond, but just then, the basement door blew open from the inside, slamming against the wall, making them both jump. Dense mist roiled up from the basement steps, spilling out into the yard, tinged blood-red by the flashing light radiating from below.
“Guess we didn’t catch him by surprise,” Simon said.
Virgil looked Simon in the eye and clapped him on the shoulder. “We can do this,” he said seriously. “We’ve been training.”
“For two whole days.”
“That’s more than we had the first time.”
“Good point.” Simon looked at the open door and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said finally, shaking out his hands and bouncing from one foot to the other. “For Abby. And for Neil. Let’s go send Asag back to hell.”
Chapter 24
They stood at the opening to the basement and peered into the blowing red fog. “Why is it foggy?” Virgil asked.
“I don’t know,” Simon shrugged. “For effect?”
The haze clung close to the steps; when it reached the top of the stairs, it spread out across the ground like a blanket. It was so thick that Simon and Virgil couldn’t see their sneakers.
“If I lift up my leg, and I don’t have a foot anymore because this hell-fog has eaten through my shoes and dissolved it away, I swear…” Virgil held his breath and picked up his knee.
His shoe was still intact.
“Phew.”
“We should have brought the candle,” Simon said, kicking himself for being so thoughtless. “The one spell that worked, and we didn’t bring the candle that we need to do it.”
Virgil tilted his head thoughtfully. “Do you think this would work?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter.
“Why do you have a lighter?” Simon asked suspiciously.
“I swiped it from Squeezy Cheez.”
“That’s stealing,” Simon pointed out.
“Oh, come on...that’s what’s bothering you? The fact that I took a lighter after a yarn-dummy tried to murder me and then exploded all the glass out of the windows? What you should really be concerned about is why on earth a place like Squeezy Cheez offers lighters as a prize to kids.”
“Huh. Yeah, that is pretty strange,” Simon admitted.
“Do you think it’ll work?”
“Instead of a candle? I don’t know,” Simon said doubtfully. “Worth a try, I guess. You still have that spell on your phone?”
Virgil pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. A few seconds later, he had brought up the protection spell. “Bingo,” he said proudly.
“Great.” Simon swiped the phone and cleared his throat. Virgil flicked the lighter to life, and Simon stumbled through the words a second time. When he reached the end of the spell, the flame of the lighter exploded into the giant fist of fire. Virgil cried out in pain as the flames, now comically oversized against the tiny metal lighter, licked at his fingers. The flame spun through its color wheel, yellow to orange to blue to red to green to purple, and then it settled back into its regular size, flickering with its blueish-purple fire.
“Well, I didn’t enjoy that,” Virgil said miserably. He checked his arm for burns, but he appeared to be okay.
“But it worked,” Simon said, nodding at the flame.
Virgil frowned down at the lighter. “How are we both supposed to hold this thing?” It was a good question; even holding it by just his fingers, the lighter was completely swallowed up by his comparatively large size.
“I guess we don’t,” Simon said. “I’ll walk behind you. Just…don’t break away. Don’t leave me uncovered.”
Virgil nodded. “Got it.”
They stepped cautiously into the stairwell, Virgil leading the way, and Simon crouching close behind him. They eased down the staircase, feeling for the next step down with their toes. The mist continued to roil up past them. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the door above slammed shut behind them, and they both jumped and screamed.
“Why was I not ready for that?” Virgil said, trying to regain control of his breath.
Simon was about to respond, but another voice filled the gloomy red basement then:
“My young disciples have returned.”
As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they could see the familiar sight of Asag, sitti
ng in his chair. He was still wearing the same suit, and he still had the baby mask fitted over his face.
They couldn’t see beyond him, though, to the far end of the basement; the sourceless, pulsing red light made it impossible for their eyes to adjust to the darkness of the far end of the room.
“Disciples?” Virgil said, his voice trembling. He was trying his best to sound even, and fearless, but it wasn’t quite working. “We didn’t come here to follow you; we came here to destroy you.”
“Hm.” Asag seemed to be considering this seriously. He noted the purple flame dancing on top of the lighter. “Is that true, Simon?” he asked, tilting his head.
It was creepy, watching the expressionless mask turn to the side like that.
“Of course,” Simon said, forcing himself to speak.
“You didn’t come here because you couldn’t resist our reunion?” the demon asked, sounding honestly intrigued.
Simon squinted in confusion, peering at Asag over Virgil’s shoulder. “Our reunion?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
The demon sighed. He leaned back in his wooden chair and crossed his legs. “I’ve been calling you. Haven’t you felt it? Haven’t you seen it?”
Simon thought back to the strange flashes of Asag he had seen…first out at Llewyn’s tent, then again last night, out in Mrs. Grunberg’s front yard. “No,” he lied, but he could hear his own voice falter. “I didn’t see anything.”
Asag clicked his tongue, sounding his disapproval. “Now, Simon, don’t lie to me. I serve the Lord of Lies. I can pick a lie out of the air as if it were a speck of dust floating lazily by.” He brushed a piece of lint from the shoulder of his suit. “We have a connection, you and I. You’ve seen my true face. That’s not something many people can say.” He chuckled quietly to himself. The he slapped his palms down on both of his knees, uncrossed his legs, and stood up from the chair. “Well, you’ve piqued my interest. If you’re not here to serve me, boys, why have you come?”
“We’re here for Abby,” Simon said, taking a step out from behind Virgil, and away from the protection spell. He realized his mistake almost instantly, and he hopped back into place, peeking out over Virgil’s shoulder. “Let her go, and we’ll think about letting you live.”
Virgil turned and looked at Simon with surprise. “Dude. Nice,” he said admiringly.
The demon began to walk...but, Virgil noticed, not toward them. The protection spell seemed to be working. He decided to try their luck, and he took two steps forward, following Asag toward the front of the basement.
“Abby?” the demon asked. “Poor Simon, I think you’re confused.”
“I think you’re a liar,” Simon spat. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulders and began to steer him toward the back of the basement, walking with the flame facing Asag so that they were stepping carefully back into the darkness.
“When I have to be,” Asag admitted. He ran a scaly hand over his bald scalp. The porcelain mask shifted on his face. “But I find it would give me no advantage at present.”
“You have her,” Simon shot back confidently. “We’re setting her free and taking her home.”
“Hm. And I have her chained up in the back, is that it?” Asag asked, his voice curious.
“Of course you do,” Simon growled. He and Virgil continued to step backward, away from the demon, into the darkness. The purple lighter flame provided little light, and they each had the sense of being swallowed by a giant mouth.
“Poor Simon,” the demon said, his voice now bright with glee. “What will you do when you reach that back wall and find that it’s only the three of us down here?”
Virgil turned and looked over his shoulder. “Simon…?” he asked nervously.
“He’s bluffing,” Simon said, stepping backward through the darkness.
Then his heel touched the concrete of the far wall. They had reached the other side.
Simon pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight. He shined it into the corner.
Abby wasn’t there.
They were alone with the demon in the basement.
And they were in the far corner, far away from the stairs.
“Simon,” Virgil said again, this time with more urgency. “We should get out of here.”
“Yeah,” Simon nodded, sweat suddenly beading up on his forehead. “Let’s go.” They started walking back toward the stairs.
“One second, if I might,” Asag said from across the room, bathed in blood-red light. And even though there was a gulf of open space between them, and even though Virgil had the flame that would protect them from his approach, Asag’s voice was so commanding that Virgil stopped dead in his tracks. “You brought a lighter this time instead of a candle, is that right?” he asked. He took a step closer, and Virgil held the flame up higher, as if it might make the protection spell stronger. Asag held up his hands innocently and shuffled to a stop. “Candles are made to burn for hours at a time. Do you know how long a small, cheap, toy lighter will stay lit?”
Virgil looked at Simon. Simon shook his head. “Move,” he whispered.
But Virgil couldn’t. He was suddenly rooted to the ground with fear. “No,” he said in answer to the demon. His voice was small and terrified.
Asag lifted his left arm and made a big show of looking at his watch. “I’d say you probably have until about…now.”
As soon as he said it, the flame burned through the last of the lighter’s fuel. The purple light sputtered, sparked, and disappeared.
“Oh, no,” Simon whispered.
The demon moved like a power surge. He exploded from the far side of the room, moving toward them so fast the air screamed as he tore through it. Virgil screamed too, and he dropped the lighter, throwing up his hands to protect himself. In the darkness, two bright, orange platters spun to life from the palms of his hands, and the demon collided with the shields. Virgil was knocked backward, and he and Simon slammed into the back wall. But Asag fell backward, too, stumbling back from the force of the collision, losing his own footing and falling onto his seat.
For a few moments, no one spoke. Simon and Virgil was surprised to be alive, and the demon was just as stunned to have been rebuffed by the mortal’s energy shield. Asag scrambled to his feet and kept a safe distance, regarding them curiously. He paced before them like a tiger in a cage. “You’ve learned some new tricks,” he said, his voice coming out grating and hard, like two stones rubbing together. “Studying with a kinesthetic?” he surmised.
Simon’s brain slowly began to unstick itself from the shock of having been rushed by the demon. His thoughts began to tumble more clearly into view. “Virgil,” he whispered. “Open your vault.”
“My—?” Virgil began, sounding confused. But then it clicked, and he actually grinned. “Right. Got it. Give me a second.”
“I’m going to give you a window. Ready?”
Virgil closed his eyes. “Quiet, I’m opening my vault.”
“Great.” Simon gritted his teeth. He let the anger and sadness and joy of his life well up in his chest. He pictured Abby, and his mom, and the Appalachian woods, and the blank space that was his dad, and the gravestone with Laura’s name.
Then he took all those emotions, and he set them free.
He lunged toward Asag with his fists glowing with hot orange light. He screamed a warrior’s cry as he let loose with his right hand, then with his left. Two huge energy balls burst forward; the first sailed over Asag’s shoulder, but the second caught him in the neck, exploding in a fiery burst, and the demon fell backward, howling in pain. Simon dropped to one knee and clapped both of his hands together. He pushed his magic back down his arms, and with the energies combined, both of his closed fists began to radiate a white-hot light that filled the room. Asag looked up from the floor, holding out his hands to block the strike. Simon let the energy loose, and it explod
ed out like a comet, leaving a long trail of kinesthetic light. Asag crossed his arms in front of his face, and the blast hit him in his big, meaty forearms. The force of the energy shoved him back, and the demon went sliding across the floor.
“Virgil!” Simon cried. “Now!”
He ducked out of the way, and Virgil stepped forward. He held the glowing wooden ball in his hand. “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever done,” he said as he took three steps, windmilled his arm behind him, and threw the ball at the demon with as much underhand force as he could muster.
The ball rocketed across the room, and it caught Asag square in the face. He screamed in pain as the porcelain mask shattered, its delicate shards tinkling to the concrete floor like pieces of a broken window. The force of the impact spun the demon around. He was huddled on the floor on his knees with his back turned to the two young men.
Simon and Virgil stood uncertainly, not knowing what to do next. The demon breathed heavily with anger, his shoulders shaking as he clutched his injured head. “I don’t think you should have gone for the face,” Simon whispered, a deep sense of dread spreading through his stomach.
“I didn’t. The ball did.” The wooden weapon pulled a U-turn around the room and zoomed back into Virgil’s open hand.
“Keep that handy,” Simon advised. “I don’t think this is over.”
Asag pushed himself up to his feet. His shoulders heaved with anger. He turned slowly in the pulsing red light, his hands covering his face. He continued to turn until he was standing directly before the two young men. He seemed somehow larger; his head was actually scraping the floor above, and his shoulders were so wide that they took up half of the room, at least. The light reflected off his scales, producing a fiery, shimmering effect that rippled across his skin. The porcelain baby mask lay shattered on the floor.
The demon lowered his hands, revealing his true face.
Virgil screamed.
Simon was so scared, his throat choked out any sound before it could escape.
The demon’s face looked like it had been bashed in with a stone. It was concave, with sharp, broken bones protruding through scaly skin. A lightning bolt-shaped splinter of rock had been stabbed through each eye, and the jagged ends of them protruded from his sunken eye holes, dribbling wet, black bloody mucous. The middle of his face had been jammed back through his razor-sharp teeth, which dripped with the same viscous black blood. Each tooth was as long and sharp as a needle. They were fully exposed down beyond the dark, wet gum line, to the bones that connected his jaw to the back of his skull. They could see through the ragged hole in his soft palate on top when he opened his mouth, to the space where off-white maggots squirmed in his caved-in sinus cavities, feeding on the rot of his flesh that had been dying inside for millennia.