by George Fry
“So... table for two?”
“No.” Drifter answered. “Just one.”
“Fucking what!?” Dale objected. “What do you mean, one!? What about me!?”
“What am I, your caretaker? Get your own food.”
“What!?”
Angered by Drifter’s crassness, Dale was forced to pull out a special trick he saved for just such an occasion.
Taking advantage of his youthful appearance and putting his acting skills to work, Dale begun his performance.
“What kind of brother are you!?” He cried. “Ever since Mum died all you do is push me around! Call me names and treat me like crap!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Drifter couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of brain disorder was suddenly afflicting this weeping child.
“You are awful!”
From nowhere, Drifter was suddenly slapped by the infuriated waitress.
“First you insult me and my restaurant, with your literal shit talk and now you’re neglecting your poor, emotional brother!? You disgust me!”
“But, he’s not…”
“There’s no way I’d serve someone like you!”
Drifter looked over to Dale, who was trying to hide the smarmy look on his face. He hoisted the pompous little prick with a single arm, for an intimate discussion.
“Bet you think you’re real funny, you smug cunt.”
“Is there a problem?”
He immediately dropped the boy on his arse. “Fuck this noise, I’m going somewhere else.”
“Dude, it’s Sunday. You’ll have a hard time finding any other place that’s open.”
“Goddammit…”
Before he knew it, they were already at a table ordering their food. Drifter wasn’t used to dealing with people for long periods of time, they were either too scared or insulted to hang around him for long, but this kid was different, he seemed to have built up a tolerance for terrible personalities and against all odds, has somehow stuck around.
When you have nowhere else to go, you find ways to make the best of a bad situation. This line of reasoning was the only justification Drifter could come up with for Dale’s actions.
A dumb kid bluffing his way through life, dealing with the shitty cards that he'd been dealt. He’d be impressed, if those shitty cards weren’t being played against him.
The waitress returned with their meals, a simple order of burger and chips. She was nothing but sweet and kind towards Dale, but shot dirty looks at Drifter, dropping his plate on the table before leaving.
Again, he was used to people treating him poorly, but somehow the reasons being the result of someone else’s actions made it extra insulting.
While Dale stuffed his face, Drifter took a more conservative and restrained approach to enjoying his meal. As he ate, his mind wandered and he soon grew concerned over the lack of people in the restaurant.
In fact, he, Dale and the waitress, were the only ones in the room, not even other waiters or chefs. It was eerily quiet.
To make matters worse, he could feel a disturbing presence around him. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it exactly, but he felt surrounded, like he was being watched from all sides.
Something was off and the more he thought about it, the more it bugged him, until he got out of his chair and started investigating, leaving Dale to continue eating, obliviously.
He lumbered over to the waitress, who was minding her own business cleaning the tables and grabbed her attention.
“Hey!” He called. “Where the hell is everybody?”
She spun around, slightly shocked. “Oh… we don’t normally have a lot of business on Sunday, sir.”
“Right…”
Drifter was certain something fishy was going on, but he needed more information.
“Don’t touch my food.” He ordered. “I need to check something, real quick.”
He left the restaurant, immediately stepping into a slippery substance outside. The curb was covered in the same disgusting trail he discovered in the alleyway. Against his better judgement, he touched it with his fingers. It had an oily texture and a putrid smell.
“Oh, god…” He gagged slightly. “This better not be demon... juices…”
He followed the trail back to the cash machine from earlier.
The machine had been left completely untouched since he interacted with it. He figured the damage would have at least drawn some attention by now, but no one seemed to have been near the shop in the past half hour.
There wasn’t a single person on the street, which seemed to make sense, given the Sun had already set, with the evening creeping in, but then he checked inside the newsagent. It was open, with equipment running and all the lights on, but devoid of any life.
Drifter’s suspicions were slowly escalating, there was definitely demonic activity afoot. He exited the shop, but not before cheekily snagging some peppermint gum. To help cover up the awful burger onion smell.
Once he was back on the street, he caught a woman running past the restaurant. She looked distraught, sprinting like her life depended on it.
“Hey, lady!” Drifter yelled after her. “Where are you going!?”
The woman turned to face him, but his intimidating stature only scared her into running faster.
“Dumb cunt…”
Drifter’s body emanated a white glow, as he dashed across the street to block the woman’s path in just a couple seconds, as she bumped into him.
“Could you not run away when I ask you a question?”
The woman was scared silent, petrified by the man, who magically zoomed in front of her. His face obscured by his long hair frozen by his aggressive tone.
“Oh God, please don’t!” She begged.
“What?”
“Don’t hurt me! Just let me go home! Please!”
“What the hell are you running from!?”
Drifter’s frustration only made the woman more paranoid, as she was still shaking from whatever ordeal she had just escaped from.
“Dude, are you gonna eat that burger, or what?” Dale asked, exiting the restaurant. “Uh... am I interrupting something?”
The woman locked sights onto Dale, noticing his more, approachable, innocent and less creepy appearance. She rushed over to the young man, holding him close for comfort.
“Please, we have to get out of here, before they get you too!”
“Um… Drifter? What’s going on?”
“You’re the one she’s glomping on, you ask her.”
“Uh… hello… ma’am. What’s… up?”
“Smooth.”
“Shut up! I’m not used to girls grabbing me.”
The woman calmed herself down and told them everything she knew.
“They’re lurking the streets… I don’t know where everyone is…. I was just walking home when they started stalking me… and I just ran…. Please help me...“
Drifter could already feel their presence all around him. There was no doubt that demons were hiding in the neighbourhood. The oily tracks were their trail.
He headed back inside the restaurant.
“Wait, where are you going?” Dale asked.
“Finish my burger.”
“What about this woman?”
“Don’t care. Leave her.”
“Are you serious!? It’s way too dangerous out here! She’s safer with us! You know? With the guy who can slice titans in half with a single swipe of his sword?”
“If you want to protect her, then go right ahead.”
“Fine… dickhead…”
Drifter returned to his seat where his burger awaited him. Dale sat the distressed woman down, helping her get comfortable.
“So, are you friends with that creepy guy?” She asked.
“We’re more… acquaintances…”
“Is he always so rude?”
“As far as I know.”
“He’s not a demon, is he?”
“What? J
ust because he looks scary, acts scary and smells scary, doesn’t mean he’s some kind of monster.”
“But, he used some freaky magic, like a demon. He practically teleported across the street to catch me.”
“Oh…. that. I don’t know… He kills demons, so I doubt he's on their side. I'm actually just following him right now. Trying to figure out what his deal is, you know?”
The woman looked over at Drifter, who was just casually eating his burger, completely ignoring the potential demon threat lurking outside.
Something deep in her subconscious was nagging at her. A vague memory, of stories she heard, videos she’d seen. Glimpses of a white flash that slaughtered demons in the blink of an eye… and then it hit her.
She got up from her chair and marched over to Drifter, determined to wring the truth out of him. She slammed her hand down on the table, catching his attention.
“What?” He asked, still with food in his mouth. “Get your own burger.”
“You…” She exclaimed. “You’re the man in the white coat, aren’t you?”
“I do, indeed, have a white coat.”
“Those weird powers. I thought you were just a myth, but the stories are true, aren’t they? There really is someone in a white coat, slaying demons with superpowers.”
Drifter stayed silent.
“You even have a sword, just like in the videos. You have to be him, right?”
“What’s your point, lady?”
“My point? There are demons out there! Why aren’t you slaying them!? Why are you just sitting there, with burger sauce dribbling down your face!?”
“Because, I’m hungry.”
“Why aren’t you out there helping!?”
“Since when was I under any obligation to help anyone?”
“What!? But, you’re the only one who can help! You have to do something!”
Drifter stood up, but not before wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“I'm not a superhero and I'm not here to fight the big bad, evil monsters. Those stories you heard, of this mythical demon slayer, or whatever shit their spouting. They're just stories. I’m just some guy trying to survive, like everyone else, that’s all.”
The woman was heartbroken. The one man that could save her, the whole town, maybe even the country, refused the call to action and for such a blasé reason. He felt so needlessly cruel and unfair.
“But… what am I supposed to do…?” She lamented.
“Get the hell out of town, I suppose.”
“What kind of solution is that!?” Dale yelled.
“She can’t go out there! They’ll kill her!”
“You got a better idea?”
“Obviously, she’s safer with us! She can stay in the restaurant with me, while you go deal with the demons. Hero or not, you’re not just going to let those demons roam around freely, are you?”
“She's not staying with me. End of discussion."
"But, what do I do?" The woman asked.
“You’re an adult, make your own decisions.”
The man in the white coat didn’t seem very helpful, or likeable, but Dale on the other hand had an innocent yet strong presence. He was more like the hero she imagined than Drifter ever was. With night time in full swing, she didn’t feel like trying her luck on her own, so she opted to stay.
As Drifter sat back, finishing his meal, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure silently watching him from outside the restaurant window. A blackish, grey blob creature, covered in liquid secretions that hid its true form.
The creature’s eyes lit up. Without even acknowledging its presence, Drifter lifted his finger and fired a speck of light that pierced through the window and upon contact with the creature’s body, set it ablaze with white flames.
The spontaneity of the attack caught Dale and the woman off guard, shocked by the sudden screams of anguish coming from outside, with the entrance engulfed in fire. Thankfully, the flames died down before the whole building ignited.
“Jesus, fuck! What happened!?” Dale cried. “I looked away for like, two seconds and suddenly the whole place was on fire!”
Drifter got up from his seat and headed for the door.
“Where are you going, now!?”
“Our friends are getting impatient. Think I’ll go say hi.”
“You mean, you’re going out to kill those demons?”
“Well, duh.”
“What? Did you have a change of heart?”
“Nope, I just really hate demons.”
At the front of the restaurant, Drifter examined the demon's corpse, or what was left of it. It was impossible to determine the creature’s appearance now that it was just a pile of ash.
He took note of the trail the demon left behind, which seemed to have ignited along with him and carried on around the building.
Once Drifter turned to the street around the back of the restaurant, the first thing he was immediately struck by was the horrible smell.
Of all the god awful things demons had committed, this dumpster fire smell was the most unforgivable. His boots splashed, as he noticed the entire street was smothered by the revolting substance.
Soon, another dark figure confronted Drifter in the middle of the street. It spoke, with a raspy, reverberating voice.
“We sensed your presence, human.”
“Damn… I need to work on masking my powers.”
“They are not your powers. A lowly human does not deserve the right to wield our world’s greatest achievement.”
“You dumbfucks have had over five years to reclaim your powers. Perhaps you’re the unworthy ones?”
“The insects you’ve grown so accustomed to swatting are, but fools. Arrogant and simple minded. They are nothing, compared to Lucifer and his followers.”
“A cult. Cute. So, what’s your plan then?”
“We prefer more indirect methods.”
Multiple figures suddenly crept out of the darkness. From street corners, doorways and even upper storey windows, some of which were keeping humans securely held to their oozing bodies.
“Hostages?”
The townspeople were terrified by the dank, swamp spewing monsters, except for one woman who seemed to have her priorities elsewhere.
“Lord Anderson! I’ve been chosen!”
Drifter wanted nothing to do with whatever she screaming about.
“Give up your power and we will spare these people.” The demon bargained.
“I’d rather just kill you.” Drifter counter threatened.
“These humans aren’t the only ones we’ve seized. I’m certain our insider at the restaurant is dealing with your friends as we speak.”
Drifter held his head down. Shaken.
“Upset? Then give up your powers and we’ll let them live.”
Drifter shook even more, but not out of fear or grief, but laughter. Amused by the demon’s ridiculous threats.
“Fuck me, man...” He smiled painfully.
“Hostages? Friends? These people were dead the moment you got them involved. As if a demon would ever stay true to their word, you'd kill them regardless. It doesn’t matter how many human shields you bring, none of you monsters are leaving here alive.”
Dale and the woman were left alone in the restaurant, as they waited for Drifter to finish his business.
“Are you finished with your meal?” The waitress asked.
“What?”
Dale had completely forgotten the waitress even there.
“Uh, yeah, sure…”
“Wait a minute.” He suddenly asked.
“Do you even know what’s going on out there?”
“I’m just here to collect your plates, sir.”
“Where the hell have you been anyway? You just up and vanished.”
“I was just in the kitchen, sir.”
“You sure you weren’t putting out the trash, because you reek.”
The waitress said nothing, frozen as she reached for the plate
.
“And… why are you bleeding grease down your arm?”
The waitress ignored Dale’s plate, as her arms dangled lifelessly, until they snapped off, hitting the floor with a dead thump.
“Oh... shit…”
From out her sleeves, new arms burst forth. Bones covered in a disgusting liquid substance.
“Oh, fuck…”
The skin and muscle peeled off of her legs, as more of the repulsive ooze covered her bones, sullying her uniform in the bizarre filth.
“That’s nasty…”
“Why are you just standing there?!” The woman yelled. “Run!”
The two dashed for the exit, only for the doors and windows to be covered by hideous demonic energy. A barrier taking on the visage of wailing spirits and skulls, reaching out their phantasmal claws to anyone foolish enough to stand near them.
The demon waitress slowly crept up behind them.
“My orders were to keep you hostage, but acquaintances of CORE's wielder pose just as big a threat as he does.”
“CORE!? The fuck does CORE mean!?”
“Pleading ignorance won’t save you. Your lives are just obstacles threatening our rejuvenation. Make peace and perish!”
Despite the demon’s slovenly appearance, it darted forward like a rocket, forcing Dale and the woman to separate as they dove out of it’s way.
The monster turned its attention to Dale, who was panicking. He didn’t know the first thing about fighting demons, but if he didn’t do something, he would surely die.
As the demon leapt at him again, Dale grabbed a chair and slammed it into the demon’s body. He successfully knocked it of balance as it crashed into the table behind him.
He got lucky, the demon weighed a ton, yet he somehow managed to just barely evade it’s assault, but it took all his strength pull it off.
Recovering quickly, the monster immediately pulled itself out of the wreckage. Thanks to the liquid covering its body, it was capable of absorbing the damage from any kind of physical beating, providing it with the perfect protection.
Dale readied his chair, but the monster slapped it aside, batting it into the wailing barrier, which held it in its distorted hands and ripped it apart, dragging the pieces into parts unknown.
He was staring death in the face, as the demon rested its long, slender claws, on his throat. Before his esophagus was slashed open, the demon was caught off-guard when the woman leapt at it, jamming a knife in its eye.