Demons Are a Girl's Best Friend (Good Girls & Demons)

by Allyson J. Myers

  If I took as many random turns as I could, maybe I could lose this guy in the labyrinth that was the museum. I heard more than one voice and realized that March had come through with him.

  Good. Buy me time, big guy.

  The rooms were in various stages of completion. Some were finished and ready with pieces on display already. The archaeologist part of me would have liked to have stopped to admire the artifacts they had acquired. The survivalist part squashed that part thoroughly. Some rooms were in progress, while others weren’t more than studs and drywall. As I ran from room to room with thumps, crashes, growls, and worse noises chasing behind me, my logic dictated that I would find the right room from one that was in progress.

  As I continued to search and stay ahead of the fight, it occurred to me that there had to be more security than just a scanner at the doors. My entrance wouldn’t have triggered them, but the broken window would definitely have tripped something. The more sensitive security systems like pressure plates in the floor, laser grids to detect movement as well as vibration monitors in the display cases wouldn’t have been installed yet or activated even if they had been set in place. The construction would break them too easily.

  There was no doubt in my mind that silent alarms were going off in some police station, and all of this was being recorded by cameras. It would make great viewing, and probably give the authorities migraines for days. If we’d have had time to plan, we would have been able to get around that. No use for that now. They would be able to identify me easily through the use of my ID card then visual confirmation. No way I could either go back to a real life or continue my pursuit in a career in Archaeogemology. I had just solidified their suspicions that I was a thief. March wouldn’t be able to argue this time unless he wanted to send me straight to jail. No matter what, we now had the arrival of Egyptian authorities to keep in mind, too.

  This just got better and better, and I felt as if my luck was running out.

  It seemed as if I had run through the entire museum before I found what I was looking for. The sounds of fighting were a bit more distant which was a huge relief. I just hoped they hadn’t broken too many relics.

  The room was partially complete with a few items already on display. I recognized a gold vulture pectoral as the one found in the Valley of the Kings KV55 from the 18th Dynasty. Before I realized what I was doing, I had slowed down to take a look. It was only for a moment before I chastised myself.

  “Not now.”

  Against a wall in the back of the exhibit room was a door with a plaque on it that read STAFF ONLY in four different languages, English being one of them, fortunately. Elation shot through me as I ran through the room. Before I reached the door, I had my ID card out and aimed for the security pad next to the knob. I let out with a quiet cheer when the light turned green then I hauled the door open.

  After I ran through, I pulled the door shut instead of waiting for it to close on its own. Hopefully, none of the fallen saw which way I went. If they still had to spend time looking for me that was more time I had to do what I had to.

  I found myself in an access hallway. Security lights gave it a Stephen King look, as if it stretched out longer than it was. At any moment, I expected zombies or other monsters to lurch out of the doors that were on either side.

  I gave a small whimper as I started down the hallway at a jog. I didn’t want to run right past what I was looking for, have to double back, and then potentially run right into a fallen.

  Here was where my luck ran out. None of the doors were marked to identify what was behind them. I would have to open them one by one, as I came to them.

  The first one was a janitor’s closet. Not what I was looking for. The next was an office. So were the next three I came to. Another was an office supply closet, then another a supply closet for the exhibition room containing clear acrylic stands, blank plaques for engraving information, things like that.

  I was getting frustrated, and words that would have made my mother gasp in indignation fell from my mouth. The next door I came to had another security pad next to it.

  “Finally,” I said in a harsh whisper. My ID card was placed to the pad, the green light came on then I was through the door.

  Here was another hallway, but this one was more clinical. Clean tiles made up the floor and the walls were hard laminate. Long fluorescent bulbs lined the ceiling, and only every third set was lit, probably to save energy and money after hours. These offices that I found had windows with chicken wire in them. All of them were dark, but they were not what I was looking for anyway. I ran right past them. The final door I wanted was at the end of the hall where one last security pad waited for me. I ran toward it and felt like I was in one of those dreams where no matter how hard you tried to run, all you did was slow down and go nowhere. It wasn’t true, but my sense of urgency wasn’t satisfied.

  When I finally reached the door, I repeated the whole process with my card, then tugged on the door before the light even turned green.

  “C’mon. C’mon. C’mon!” The lock clicked open, I yanked on the door and got through, but before I could shut it, I heard something excessively big and very solid slam into the door.

  I paused in fear and shock. The door was struck again, and this time cracks formed. The next hit would break it apart. That came just as I slammed my door. I knew it wasn’t March. He would have called out to me. One of the fallen must have gotten away from the fight to find me.

  That or something had incapacitated March, which was something I really didn’t want to consider. If he was out of this, I was doomed. Even if I managed to hide The Ingress securely, there was no doubt in my mind the fallen would kill me anyway.

  They seemed just that stupid.

  If they were smart, they’d keep me alive, torture and/or threaten me to force me to reveal the location, and give it to them. I was glad they were stupid. A quick death would be better, in my opinion.

  The fact that my life had come to making these kinds of decisions was a horrible reality.

  I turned with relief to find myself in a storage room for the antiquities. All of the items in the room were already cleaned, preserved, identified, and tagged, waiting to be put on display in the appropriate exhibit. In this case, they were all in the 18th Dynasty. There were at least a dozen rows of shelving, six on each side, most of them held items ranging from vases to larger items like chairs, and even pieces of a chariot. Any jewelry would’ve been locked away in a safe somewhere. But there were specific items I was looking for, and I had no doubt I would find them.

  I rushed along the shelves and located them just as the first heavy crash hit the door. It took a little work to accomplish my mission, and just as the fallen broke through the door I had come back out from between the shelving.

  I took one look then screamed. I had expected to see a large, angry man with a sword. Instead, what stood menacingly before me was well over seven feet tall and nothing like a man. It still bore a humanoid form, but that was where the similarities stopped. Instead of feet, it had cloven hooves that left dents and cracks in the tile floor. Tufts of wiry hair emerged from the knobby knuckles above the chipped and ridged hooves. The legs had reversed knees above which more of that course hair grew thicker. Its thighs held the girth of tree trunks with powerful muscles beneath the hair-covered, almost black skin. It looked weathered and dry, as if one wrong move would make it crack and bleed, but its hide just moved with each step.

  It must have ripped or shed its clothing when it transformed because it was nude. However, there was no genitalia to be seen. Its groin was smooth and led to its abdomen muscles which were so solid they seemed artificial. Its chest and shoulders showed the threading of the muscles, and it’s arms bulged grossly. The creature’s joints were bulbous on the elbows and wrists. Instead of hands, it had claws and talons like a great bird of prey. It shouldn’t have worked with the rest of the anatomy, but I was far beyond trying to puzzle it out.

  The worst was
its head and face. The creature’s broad skull resembled a large steer, complete with spiraled horns protruding backward. But its face was the worst. Its eyes swelled out from the sockets; whites showed around human looking eyes that glowed that golden amber light. Nostrils that would be the envy of any gargoyle flared with each breath and dripped a slime down around a grotesque mouth. Its lips seemed too large and flapped loosely around broken teeth that were stained brick red, from what source I did not want to know. Finally, a long, narrow tongue lolled out of its mouth to wag around in a vulgar manner.

  All in all, it was a sight that would haunt me for the rest of my life. But as if that weren’t bad enough, along with it came a stench of burnt sulfur. The smell emanated from its body, and with each exhale, rotting meat joined it.

  Its very existence seemed to assault all of the senses, including what the mystics would call the spirit, because the feel of absolute evil filled the storeroom. Take every phobia there is, blend them together then experience them all at the same time, and that was what being in this thing’s presence was like. I had no idea how I wasn’t reduced to babbling insanity in a corner. Somehow my wits held on by a thread.

  The fallen must have picked up on my fear. It grinned as it let out a sound that was its version of an amused chuckle. It sounded more like a bad starter in a 1972 Oldsmobile. As it took a large step in my direction, I backed up to between two rows of shelving.

  “Do you like what you see?” Its voice gave it the complete demonic package. Deep, stone grinding and slithery.

  Ick.

  “This is what you laid with.” Its eyes closed and its nostrils flared as it took a deep inhale. “I can smell him on you.” A hum seemed to come from it as its talons raked over its chest and abdomen. “And you seemed like such a good little girl. What a pleasant surprise.”

  I kept walking backward. All that seemed to do was encourage the fallen to follow after me. It was too big to fit between the shelving, but it also blocked the only escape route I had. This was all kinds of fucked, and not just because of what it said.

  It stretched out an arm, claw up as if it beckoned for me. “Be a good girl, now. Give me The Ingress, and perhaps I will give you better than what he did.” It flicked the tip of its tongue in rapid movements.

  “Okay, ew,” I said. “Do you practice that in the mirror or is dorky frat boy just your nature?”

  I couldn’t help it. It just came out. Provoking demons who wanted to eviscerate me seemed to be part of my nature.

  Self-preservation apparently wasn’t.

  And since it had stopped, I had, too. My hands were placed on the shelves on either side of me as if to keep me steady on my feet.

  Evidently, it didn’t like being taunted. It let out with a lesser version of the growl I heard outside.

  “Enough games. Give me The Ingress. Now,” It snapped.

  “I don’t have it.” A smug grin formed on my face. It was true. I didn’t own it anymore, and it definitely wasn’t in my possession.

  “Lies.” it roared as it gripped the shelving I stood between with its claws. “I’ll tear you apart piece by piece until I find it.”

  “Be my guest.” I shouted back.

  My hands clapped to my ears as the fallen let out a roar at full blast. Items on the shelves rattled from the volume and echo. I couldn’t be sure, but I might have screamed, not that it could be heard. One claw shoved the shelving it held so it could make a grab for me with the other. A few artifacts fell from the hard jostling which almost made me cry when I heard them hit the floor and shatter. I wasn’t out of reach, but the rest of my plan kicked in, much to my relief. If I had been wrong…well, at least I wouldn’t have lived to see humanity’s fall because of my mistake.

  A low hum grew louder, enough to drown out what remained of the fallen’s roar. Among the shelves directly around me cartouches and hieroglyphs glowed a pure white-blue light. Canopic jars, magic bricks that were used in burial chambers to protect the dead, remnants of papyrus scrolls, carved stone tablets, and anything else that was inscribed with spells of protection ignited with that light in response to the fallen’s action and intention.

  It was the fallen’s turn to scream in fear this time. That sound was just as hideous as anything else that came from it. High pitched and screeching, it was in response to its claw bursting into flames. The relics protected their own, and The Ingress was now part of that since I had placed it in one of the canopic jars. Those curses that science scoffed at became very real and skewed to the scale of force. Whereas when humans removed the items from the burial sites they died of disease or some mysterious reason, a fallen was a bigger threat. It required a bigger show of power to dissuade it.

  Its claw and forearm were ablaze and turned to ash. Its shriek of pain just continued as it foolishly didn’t move. Not at first. But when the fire ate its way up the arm, the fallen thrashed it around as it backed away. The further it got from the jar that contained The Ingress, the more the fire diminished, and my fear made an appearance.

  So long as I stayed near the jar, I should’ve been fine, but all it would take is for the fallen to knock the shelving down, and it could get at me. There was a real doubt that I could make it to the door before that, but at least The Ingress would be out of its reach, even if the jar broke. It belonged to the ancient Egyptians now, and they did not give up their prizes easily.

  The fallen’s arm ended in nothing but a charred stump that still smoked. Chunks of burnt flesh and a black ooze that must have been its blood dripped and fell. Wherever the excretion hit the floor there was a slight hiss as it scorched the tile.

  I really didn’t want to see what it would do to my skin.

  It snarled at me, bared chipped and stained teeth. So much for its offer of pleasure beyond belief. All I could do was stare until it jerked its damaged arm to send some of that discharge at me. I shrieked as I ducked and raised my arms to protect my face. It missed this time, but I was a sitting target, and the fallen knew it.

  I backed up as far as I could until I hit the wall. I peeked out between my arms to see the fallen down at the end of the row. It grasped hold of the shelving again and was prepared to toss it aside like so much trash when suddenly its growl got cut off. Its back arched its shoulders back as a sword protruded through the front of its chest. More of that black blood splattered around, but any that got close to the items with the glowing hieroglyphs burned like shooting stars before it could strike them.

  The fallen let out with a sick gurgle before it too burst into flames. I had to cover my face with my arms once more to keep the heat from singeing my skin, but I peeked between them to watch as the fallen dwindled to dust and ash that blew away in an invisible wind then dissipated into nothing. With the threat gone, the white-blue light dimmed slowly to nothing.

  What remained was the owner of the sword that had eliminated the Fallen.

  “March.”

  I had never been so relieved to see anyone before. I ran forward then leaped for him before I had even reached him. Whether he caught me or not, my arms wrapped around his shoulders, but I was glad to feel his arm hold me close. My heart pounded almost painfully against my chest and I felt my breath sob out of me. I shook, which made him hold me tighter. All of my fear, the tension from the life-or-death situation flooded through me for a much-needed outlet. Only belatedly did I wonder if we were still in danger.

  I pulled my head out to look at him. My cheeks were wet, and I couldn’t remember when I had started to cry.

  March looked tired, angry, and worried.

  “Is it over?” I asked in a tone that begged him to confirm that we were safe, finally.

  He nodded then gave me a weary smile. “They’re dead.” He sounded as tired as he looked. I hugged him again as yet another sob escaped me. His arm tightened around me once more. “Sorry it took a while for me to get here. I…got lost.”

  That was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. I pulled my head back out to look at h
im for a long moment then burst out laughing. Laughter took me so much that I had to put my forehead down on his shoulder.

  “Hey.” His indignation only made it worse, but my amusement was catching, apparently, since he laughed along with me. “Stop laughing at me. This place is huge, and I didn’t see which way that bastard had gone.

  All I could do was shake my head for a few moments before I could get my amusement under control. When I brought my head up again, I was crying for a whole different reason.

  “Should I have left a trail of breadcrumbs?”

  “Oh, you’re a riot,” he said. That fondness he saved for me entered his eyes just before he kissed me. There was a desperation to it, but it was so gentle and tender that it made my heart thud again. It didn’t last for long, but I would say that it was the best kiss I had gotten from him yet. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He smiled at me then lowered me to my feet.

  Once I was on the floor again, I realized he’d been holding me with the arm that held his sword. That confused me for a moment, until I looked at his left arm and saw his sleeve stained with blood. Human-looking blood, not that black globby stuff the fallen bleed.

  There was far more of it than I cared for. That was when I explored visually and with my fingers for how many other injuries he had.

  “Whoa. Brenna.” March flinched away from my hands as an amused laugh came from him. “Ow. Stop. I’m fine. Hey.” He backed away a little and laughed more. “That tickled. Stop it.”

  I planted my hands on my hips and gave him a stern look. “Maybe if you’d hold still, you big baby, I wouldn’t be so rough.”

  One brow arched upward, and I hoped my expression looked something close to the look my mother would give us when we’d gotten in trouble. I knew I wasn’t particularly good at chastising. Someone once told me I wouldn’t intimidate a mouse. Judging by the smile on March’s face, I still didn’t.