I Married a Demon

by Beverly Rae

  Blake kept running, hurdling over grave markers with the ease of an Olympic track star. Pumping my legs until they hurt, I couldn’t match pace with him. He raced around the edge of a mausoleum and I lost sight of him. “Blake! Hold up! Wait for us!” I grabbed the corner of the cement building and checked to make sure Myra and George were close on my heels. My momentum carried me around the side of the building—and straight into Hell.

  Or at least Hell on earth.

  Blake grabbed for me, pulling me down behind one of the bigger gravestones. Shushing me, he pointed ahead of him. Without bothering to look, I nodded and readied myself to catch George and Myra before they barged in on the scene. Fortunately, George surprised me again by peeking around the corner of the tomb instead of barreling around the corner. Myra’s bouncing curls stuck out from below George’s chin, her wide eyes asking questions I couldn’t answer.

  Motioning for them to get down on the ground and crawl, I decided to see for myself what Blake had found. Lifting my nose over the stone, I squinted into the dark cemetery. If it hadn’t been for the full moon—oh, crap, I’m missing my shift for werewolf duty tonight for the Society—I might not have seen Michael standing in an open area surrounded by graves.

  Michael held the Bracelet toward the sky, his face ethereal in its wonder and awe. Lifting his head, he called out the words no Protector ever wants to hear. Especially not from her ghoul brother-in-law holding the most powerful weapon in the world. I sensed Blake scrunching next to me and soon felt the warmth of George’s breath on my neck. He and Myra scoped out the scene.

  “Oh, master, come to me. I, Zeiwa, your faithful servant, have brought you what you seek. Demogorgon, High Demon Lord, I beseech you. Come to me so I might deliver what is rightfully yours into your hand.”

  I gave Blake a look. “Is he kidding? I mean, who talks like that? He sounds like an old black-and-white movie villain.”

  “Quiet.” Blake tried to keep his dire expression, but couldn’t help letting the tips of his mouth curve upward. “He always did go in for the corny bits. Besides, Demogorgon likes the old way of speaking.”

  “Oh, well, of course. Ya gotta make the boss man happy.” My sarcasm could’ve cut diamonds until I remembered that Blake had spoken to Demogorgon in the same curious way.

  Our collective foursome ducked when Michael shifted his body to face our direction, held up the Bracelet again, and repeated his words. “Oh, master, come to me. I, Zeiwa, your—”

  I leaned against the tombstone, half-listening to him drone on and trying to think on my feet. “What’re we waiting for? Let’s get him. He’s all alone.”

  “Uh-oh. No, he’s not.”

  I caught Myra’s horrified expression and followed her gaze. Several ghouls rose out of the ground to stand directly behind Michael. Without acknowledging their ghouly presence, he continued to summon Demogorgon. More ghouls continued to push their way out of the soil surrounding him. “Sheesh, how many minions does one ghoul need? Talk about overkill.”

  I fell against the cold stone and tried to wrap my brain around what I’d seen. Leaning over Blake, I saw past the hulk of George’s frame to see yet another ghoul digging its way out of the grave behind us. “Oh, come on, already.”

  George swung around, a growl rumbling low in his throat. He started forward but I grabbed his arm, keeping him with us. The ghoul didn’t appear to notice us and stalked past us without a glance in our direction.

  “I didn’t know ghouls lived in graves.”

  I had to hand it to Myra. Although she’d always dreamed of becoming a Protector, she’d never had to deal with any monsters or other supernatural beings. She was, however, taking it all in stride. “There’s always something new to learn about the preternatural.” I smiled at her, hoping to give her the confidence I didn’t feel. “Actually, these ghouls are probably newbies being dredged up from the grave by Michael’s summons to the High Demon Lord. They’re like lookie-loos. They aren’t buying, but they wanted to see what was for sale.”

  Myra’s frightened features relaxed a little and I knew my little joke had worked. My job of Best Friend was fully intact. Now I could concentrate on my real job.

  “I guess Michael has some groupies.”

  Blake kept his attention on his brother, nodding his agreement. Not exactly the response I’d hoped I’d get for my joke, but it would have to do.

  “Demogorgon, High Demon Lord, I beseech you. Come to me so I might deliver what is rightfully yours into your hand.” Michael kept his spiel going with another round.

  Would Demogorgon make an appearance? Not that I wanted Michael’s ritual to bring out the head honcho. Without Demogorgon around, the possibilities of getting my paws on the Bracelet went up. However, if the boss beast did show up, then maybe, just maybe we could get rid of him for good. And I meant for good.

  “He should be here by now.”

  Apparently, my hubby wanted to see the High Demon Lord, too. “Does Demogorgon usually come when a subordinate calls? I mean, isn’t his ego too big to answer a command from one of his flunkies?”

  “Not when the Bracelet is a part of it. Besides, it’s not a command. It’s more like a high-level email needing the supervisor’s signature.”

  Oh, sure. Demogorgon and the Enron execs. I could definitely see the comparison. “Okay, although the odds have changed a bit, I vote for taking Michael on and getting the Bracelet before the lead vermin shows up.”

  “Too late.”

  Catching Blake’s meaning, I scrambled around to peer over the top of the stone again and almost fell over from the shock. Instead of the gruesome entity I’d seen in the warehouse, a skinny pimply-faced youth stood in front of Michael. “Holy shit, isn’t that Buddy from the Food Mart?” What the heck was our grocery store stock boy doing in the middle of a graveyard surrounded by a bunch of ghouls?

  “Ohmigod, we have to help him!” Myra might have made it past our hiding place if George hadn’t caught her before she made it half a foot. He scooped her up with one arm, letting her dangle by his side, playing King Kong to her Fay Wray.

  I was starting to like the big lug. I mouthed a silent “thank you” and patted his arm to release her. “Think, Myra. Buddy isn’t really a stock boy.” Again, I had to give it to the scrappy woman. She had more balls than some men I’ve known.

  Confused, she glanced between Buddy and me. Slowly, I saw understanding dawn on her face. Understanding…then terror. I turned to see what had caused the change.

  Although I’d seen him in his true state before, a flush of revulsion coursed through my body. Gone was rail-thin, big-eared Buddy. In his place was a creature of tremendous destruction.

  In his place was the High Demon Lord, Demogorgon.

  As supernatural beings went, this guy was uglier than a gargoyle and troll combined. The long, writhing tentacles covering the demon’s obese body reached out to caress Michael’s face, bringing a glop of bile into my mouth before I could steel myself against the sight. Rolls of putrid glowing green lard hung from his body, waving like the loose skin of a fat man’s underarms. His three red eyes protruding from his face glistened with excitement and greed spread his lips in what I assumed was a smile. A smile made up of sharp stained fangs.

  “Ugha.” Myra’s gargle of revulsion expressed her dismay. “Gross and double gross. Where does something so revolting come from?”

  “Straight from the depths of Hell.”

  At Blake’s whispered response, I checked his face, searching for any sign of emotion and found none. He stared at the creature, unable to take his eyes off him.

  “Gross.”

  Again with the gross? I followed Myra’s gawking stare to Demogorgon and nearly gagged. I don’t know how, but I’d forgotten about the worst part of this freak. His long hard penis, extending from under the fat folds of his abdomen, aimed straight at Michael, making me think of the pointer used for a blackboard presentation. At that moment, I wished he’d been even fatter, although I’m n
ot sure the rolls of flab would’ve been enough to hide his four-foot penis.

  Wait. Four feet? Had it grown from the last time I’d seen it? Eew. “Oh, damn. Somebody gouge my eyes out.”

  “Don’t ask too loudly. You might get your wish.”

  I swallowed, realizing Blake was right. “Thanks for the reminder. But when are we going to make our move?”

  Supporting his massive bulk with his thick tail, Demogorgon stretched a tentacle out to take the Bracelet. Michael, however, had a different idea. “Excuse me, oh, Wise One, but I want to discuss our agreement.”

  Demogorgon shifted his cumbersome body closer, whipping his tentacles around Michael like bullwhips cracking at his face. “Give me the Bracelet first.”

  A couple of ghouls stepped in front of Michael, blocking Demogorgon’s way. The High Demon Lord roared his displeasure and struck out, slicing the two ghouls in half with one blow. Within seconds, however, more ghouls took their places. Demogorgon bellowed again, but didn’t strike out. “Watch your step, Zeiwa. You push your luck.”

  Michael, aka Zeiwa, bowed low, but kept a firm hold on the Bracelet. “I mean no disrespect, master. I only wish to confirm our agreement before I make you more powerful than you already are.”

  “Do not take credit for what you do not control.”

  Michael bowed again. “Yes, master.”

  Somewhat mollified, Demogorgon rested the bulk of his weight on his tail again. Tentacles floated around the two ghouls like watchful snakes ready to bite. “Very well. You have been a faithful servant and, for a reward, I will excuse your impudence—this time. I am, however, disappointed in your failure to eliminate the Protector called Jennifer. Both you and your brother had ample opportunities to kill her and didn’t. Your brother made the mistake of caring for this mortal and he will pay for his mistake. You, however, have yet to receive your punishment for failing me.”

  “She will die in the next few hours. I swear it.”

  “Good. Be certain she does.” Demogorgon rolled his thick black tongue out of his mouth to lick his protruding member. “State our agreement.”

  “Yes, master.”

  I glanced at Blake who watched, transfixed by the exchange.

  “Per our agreement, once I deliver the Bracelet to you, you will reward me. In return, I will rise from the lowly rank of ghoul to become a Demon Lord.”

  A rumbling sound rose from the ghouls surrounding him. However, I couldn’t tell if they wanted to congratulate Michael or tear him apart for his defection from their kind.

  “Do you believe this? Your brother’s bucking for a promotion to demonhood. Don’t you get it? You’re trying to save his ass for nothing.” Blake gave a slight nod of his head and kept watching. But I wanted to know more. “Is it better to be a demon? There’s a pecking order in the Otherworld between the different species? And demons rank higher than ghouls?” I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help but feel a smidge of pride. My hubby was among the higher ranked Otherworlders. After all, if he had to be one of them, at least he was high up on the totem pole.

  Demogorgon blew a gigantic wad of black snot from his nose, spraying the ghouls standing in front of Michael. Instead of despising the action, the ghouls wiped the filth off their bodies and into their mouths.

  “Ughh.” Myra’s gagging sound echoed my own and I tried not to upchuck. Ghouls, I knew, were among the grossest of supernatural beings, but this was way too gross.

  “What you say is the agreement we made.” Demogorgon waved his tentacles around, slapping against one ghoul with a resounding thwack. “I honored you with this agreement because of your past service.”

  “Yes, master, and I appreciate your generosity.” Michael stepped back, keeping his attention on the monster in front of him.

  Uh-oh. His move signaled a possible problem to me. And to Demogorgon.

  “Give me the Bracelet, servant.” Demogorgon pushed the ghouls apart, tossing them into the air like toy soldiers.

  Michael kept backing up until he’d gone through the crowd of ghouls and came to a grassy area where funerals often held their memorials. Demogorgon followed him, plowing down the ghouls who attempted to stand in his way.

  “I’m sorry, master, but I’m not giving you the Bracelet.”

  The High Demon Lord tossed more ghouls into the air. One fell close to us and broke into a myriad of pieces, sending Myra clinging to George. But Michael, Demogorgon and the other ghouls were too busy to notice.

  Michael held up the Bracelet, making a show of starting to place it on his wrist. “I’m keeping the power for myself. You, oh mighty big ass, can consider yourself replaced.” With a sound equaling the shriek of a thousand banshees, Demogorgon raised his tentacles and slashed out at Michael.

  “No!” Without warning, Blake dashed from behind the gravestone and raced toward his brother.

  Brother, Pull Yourself Together!

  At the sound of my husband’s shout, Michael twisted toward Blake, lowered his arms, and forgot to place the Bracelet on his wrist. Blake rammed against him and snatched at the Bracelet, but Michael held on. The force sent the brothers sprawling to the ground, knocking down ghouls like decaying bowling pins.

  Demogorgon lumbered forward toward the two men, yelling commands at each of them. Commands neither one of them obeyed.

  Roaring, the High Demon Lord raised a tentacle, readying to grab Blake, Michael and the Bracelet. I lunged out of my hiding place with George and Myra right behind me. Aiming my body like a human missile straight toward Demogorgon, I lowered my head and visualized knocking over the giant. At the very least, I prayed I’d make one helluva dent in all that blubber.

  To my right, a shrill call echoed through the night, overshadowing even the sounds of Demogorgon’s bellows. I stumbled to the ground, causing Myra and George to trip over me. I took a quick glimpse toward the ruckus and saw a sight stranger than ghouls popping out of the ground.

  Mrs. Wippingpoof and Mrs. Hardgrave, each carrying what appeared to be whale harpoons and shrieking like avenging angels, ran as fast as their stubby support-hosed legs could carry them straight at Demogorgon. Moving with the agility and speed of young women, they shot their harpoons at the giant demon. Their aims struck true and he hollered in pain, but that didn’t stop them from rushing forward. Demogorgon gripped the harpoons and tore them from his body, breaking them in half. Black-green pus oozed from the wounds, releasing a smell so putrid nearby flowers wilted.

  Using their broken weapons to beat at him, Mrs. Hardgrave assailed him on one side and Mrs. Wippingpoof hammered at him from the other side. He laughed at their pitiful attempts to hurt him and grabbed Mrs. Hardgrave by her curly blue-silver hair to violently shake her. She opened her mouth wide to cry out, but made no sound. Instead, her dentures flew out, bopping Demogorgon in his crooked nose. Rubbing his huge nose, he grabbed Mrs. Wippingpoof, who made a valiant effort to stab him in the eye. She missed, but only by an inch.

  Shaking both ladies like pesky insects, Demogorgon opened his mouth and started to shove Mrs. Hardgrave inside. She screamed a curse at him and jabbed her weapon into his mouth, knocking one of his fangs loose. “Twhere! How do wyou like losing youwer tweeth?”

  With an ear-shattering roar, Demogorgon threw the women away from him. Unfortunately, he flung them straight at me. In the split second before impact, I had to decide whether to jump out of the way or try to catch one of them. I opted to catch one of them.

  Mrs. Hardgrave landed on me with an ooph, flattening me on my back. She ended up sitting on top of me. The world spun in a dizzy circle for a moment as I tried to regain my equilibrium.

  “Hi twhere, Jwenny.” My meddlesome neighbor gazed down at me and gave me a toothless grin.

  “Hi.” I had to admit this was one of those rare times when I was at a loss for words.

  “I dwo hope I dwidn’t huhrt you.” She put a palm to my forehead and told me to stick out my tongue.

  “Uh, Mrs. Hardgrave, I don’t think getti
ng smashed gives a person a fever. Would you mind getting off me?” She obliged, scrambling up to dash over and retrieve her dentures. “What the hell are you doing here?” I pulled Mrs. Wippingpoof to her feet and Mrs. H joined us. “And how do you know Mrs. Wipp?”

  The two older women exchanged knowing glances before pointing at the High Demon Lord who had turned his attention to my husband and his brother. “Mrs. Hardgrave is one of us. When the Society found out you’d married a demon and Demogorgon was out to have you killed, they assigned her to watch out for you. We were lucky she already lived on your street.”

  Mrs. Hardgrave shrugged, reached under her flowery dress, and revealed a knife the length of a small sword.

  For a moment, I forgot everyone and everything in my amazement. “Then you aren’t really a snoopy neighbor? Instead, you’re my Protector?”

  Mrs. Hardgrave brandished the sword with a precision that would’ve made a pirate proud. “You’ve got it, honey. Now, don’t you think we’d better get back to the party?”

  “Duck!”

  I obeyed Mrs. Wippingpoof’s order and ducked. “Kee-ahh!” She kicked out, her leg whooshing over my head to neatly slice through the neck of the ghoul about to take a chunk out of mine. I spun around in time to see the ghoul disintegrate.

  “Thanks, Mrs. W.”

  “No problem, sweetie.” With a wink, she dashed across the cemetery to where Myra and George stood surrounded by a group of ghouls. George had transformed into full Sasquatch and had a screeching warrior Myra sitting on his shoulders. I gaped at him, astonished at how easily he eliminated three ghouls with one blow of his massive arm. Myra took out a fourth using a ghoul’s dismembered arm. Mrs. Hardgrave patted me on the shoulder and took off after Mrs. Wippingpoof.

  Since George, Myra, and the two senior citizen Protectors seemed to have the ghouls under control, I headed toward my husband and his brother who were still fighting with each other. With their attention squarely on each other, they didn’t notice Demogorgon’s slow shuffling approach.