Demon Hunters

by JKMelby74

  “Hi.”

  “Hello.” She says in a tone that is obviously designed not to hide her hatred.

  “I just wanted to know if you were hiring.”

  “We aren’t.”

  “Oh. Well, may I fill out an application anyway?” I ask. She stalls for a moment.

  “I guess.” She says at last. She leans down and comes back up with a sheet of paper and hands it to me.

  “Thanks.” I say.

  “Whatever.” I nod to her and find an empty table nearby. I quickly fish a pen out of my bag and begin filling the form out. I ignore the whispered curses and threats from the patrons surrounding me. I skip over the non-essential parts and sign the back. I walk over to the girl behind the counter and hand over the application.

  “Maybe if something opens up?” I say. She smiles gingerly and takes the application. Maybe she’s just having a bad day, I think. Then suddenly, after giving the application a quick glance, she makes a show of crumpling it into a ball and throwing it to the floor.

  “Have a nice day.” She says sarcastically. I just smile and turn on my heel and walk out.

  The rest of my day doesn’t go much better than that. I hit every store for two blocks and get pretty much the same treatment. Surly employees with mock graciousness, which eventually falls apart before I leave. A few just crumple or tear my application before my eyes. A few others actually spit on me as I leave their store.

  By the time I’m done, it’s nearly three o’clock and the rain is coming down in sheets. I consider the whole enterprise a bust and decide to retreat to home base. I head back to my apartment through the usual crowds of disapproving faces and a few hostile nudges. I pass through the front door of my building, but Will isn’t there. One less headache, at least. I call for the elevator and when the door opens, I see a man obscured by a pile of boxes in his arms. I step aside and let him through. He thanks me pleasantly, but I think that’s only because he couldn’t see who I was. I get into the elevator and take it up. I step out to the hall and as I turn, I see that my door is open and there are men coming in and out with boxes. I race in and see the super watching the moving men do their work.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting you out of here.”

  “You said I had thirty days.”

  “I changed my mind. Everything ends tomorrow, so who cares if I toss you out early? You can try and sue me, but with only one day left, there’s not much chance of that, is there?”

  “I’ll call the cops.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll time them to see how long it takes for them to get here.”

  “You son of a bitch.” I say. My fist begins to tighten.

  “Larissa?” Mike says behind me. I turn to see him walking through the door.

  “What’s going on?”

  “He’s throwing me out!”

  “You can’t do that!” Mike protests.

  “I can do whatever the Hell I want! You people think I’m this little worm who can’t get anything done! That’s not how I’m going out! You, Ms. Corba, are out of here!”

  “No, you’re not. You can stay with me.” Mike says. Always coming to the rescue.

  “No way! If she stays with you, you’re evicted too!”

  “You really can’t do that.”

  “Try me! I’ll be back to check on the movers. If you’re in his apartment when I get back, you’re both out on the street!” He barks and pushes his way out to the hall.

  “Come on.” Mike says.

  “No. I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “He’ll throw you out.”

  “Let him try.”

  “Look what he’s doing here! I can’t let you lose your home because of me.”

  “What are you going to do? You can’t live on the street.”

  “Looks like I’m going to have to. At least, for one day.”

  “Out on the street in a city full of people who would just as soon kill you than look at you? No way. We can just hole up in my place for as long as we need.”

  “Mike. That’s sweet, but no. I may be getting dragged down, but there’s no reason to take anyone else with me. I’ll be okay. I promise.” I say and I walk out. Mike grabs my arm quickly and pulls me to him.

  “I love you. I can’t let you do this. Not alone.”

  “But I have to. I’ll be back. I promise.” I say and then reach up to kiss him. He presses me tightly into his body and I love it there, but I force myself to part from him. I step away from him, still holding his hand. I try to keep contact with him for as long as possible. I try to commit the feeling to memory. I turn away at last and head back down to the street.

  As I leave the building, I see my boxes piled up on the street. They’re already soaked from the rain. I try to think of what to do with them, but there’s nothing I can do. The moving men keep coming out with more boxes and piling them on top of each other. I watch as the stack of boxes melt into a messy clump of wet cardboard and old clothes. I turn away and start down the street.

  I’m five blocks away before I realize where I’m going. For some reason, it then hits me that I forgot my umbrella. I run toward a nearby diner with an awning just outside. As I enjoy my momentary respite from the rain, I try to formulate a plan. I may have no home, but I still have money. I can eat at least. I look inside the diner and it appears to be clean. I could eat here, but I worry if the chef might recognize me. I’m paranoid enough about restaurant food. I continue down the street and stumble upon a large shopping complex that conveniently houses a supermarket. I go in and head to the deli section. They have a large selection of well-cooked food. I get a small rotisserie chicken and a canned soda. I take the food outside and find a quiet place to eat. The rain isn’t letting up one bit.

  I head over to Central Park. I figure I can camp out on a park bench for a bit. Get my bearings. I find a bench in an enclosed area so I manage to get out of the rain and off my feet at the same time. I check the time. It’s well past seven and my options for sleeping accommodations begin to take priority in my mind. I look over and see some homeless people camped on vents across the street. I can see the steam rising up from under them.

  It looks warm, but I’m not ready to give up yet.

  I get up and start walking again when I feel rested enough. I just go whichever direction seems good to me. I’m heading down Thirty Fifth when I see a large hotel a few blocks away. The Westmont. I walk up to it and I like the look of it. It seems clean and well run. Not so fancy that I couldn’t afford it, but not so cheap that I have to sleep with one eye open. I walk in. The warmth hits me at once. I had been out in the cold so long; I guess I had become acclimated to it. I walk up to the front desk where I encounter an older gentleman standing at the ready.

  “I’d like a room please.” I say. I know my hair is dripping and my clothes are sagging down on my body, but I don’t dare act like I realize it. He just smiles as best he can.

  “Of course.” He taps his fingers across the keyboard of his computer. “Name?” I stop for a moment.

  “Sally. Sally Henderson.” I say.

  “Very well, Ms. Henderson. How many?”

  “Just me.”

  “A single. Right. Nonsmoking?”

  “Sure.”

  “Excellent. And how long will you be staying with us?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s just say just for tonight and take it from there.”

  “Very well. I will need your driver’s license and a credit card.”

  “What?”

  “Or a state identification card, if you don’t have a driver’s license.” He says. I feel a cold chill come up my spine.

  “I thought you took those things when I left.”

  “No, we need it for your receipt. If you would?”

  “Sure.” I say. I then pull out my wallet and give him my identification card and my Visa. He takes them and examines them carefully. He looks back over at me.

  “Well, Ms. Corba, I s
ee that everything here is in order, but unfortunately we have no vacancies at this time.” He says as he slides my cards back.

  “That’s a lie.”

  “Excuse me? I’m sorry for your inconvenience, but I assure you, all our rooms have been booked.”

  “Show me.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Look! I need a place to sleep tonight! I know you have to have at least one room open. I don’t care what you think of me. I can pay cash!” I say as I empty out my wallet. I dump a pile of bills on the desk. “You have to take that! It’s legal tender! If you don’t, I can sue you and this whole hotel!” I shout. I can tell that my little tantrum is starting to gather attention. He looks over my head and soon two security guards come up on either side of me.

  “Take her out.” He says and they do just that. They both drag me across the lobby and push me out the door into the rain. I stand outside looking in at all the warm, happy people as the rain soaks me to the bone. I turn away and sit down on the curb. The water in the gutter is coming up beyond my ankle now. I think I’m crying, but it’s too hard to tell for sure. My life is officially ruined. I know I can’t stay out here tonight. I turn my head and a light calls to me through the darkness. I run to it. As I come within a block of it, I see I’ve been running towards the Corba Cathedral. The light from within floods the streets like a sun. I stand across the street from it, staring. I gaze at the long, intricate stained glass windows along the front of the church, just above the front doors. Its spires twist and reach high into the air. It is so ornate and overdone, but that seems to be what brings the folks in. Everything is dark around me. I carefully cross the street and head inside. I notice quickly that the roar of the rain outside is muffled within my father’s holy walls. I hear soft organ music as I walk in further. I see a few faithful souls standing before the altar where a large cross hangs above them. A snake made of light wrapping around the crucifix blinks on and off. I quietly take my place in a pew at the very back. I listen to the music and I listen to the soft, whispered prayers of the meager congregation. I realize there is one last option.

  I make my way across town back to the Corba Foundation headquarters. The building looks quiet. I see fewer people milling around. The doors are clearly still open. I walk in. Thankfully no one notices me. I walk over to the reception desk. A new cheery face is sitting behind the desk.

  “Good evening. How may I serve you?”

  “I’m Larissa Corba. I’m here to see The Savior.”

  Chapter 54

  Prodigal Daughter

  I step out of the elevator into my father’s home. It’s a bit different at night. There are extra lights on that accent the many fine details of the architecture. I can quickly see that the breathtaking view is even more so at night, but I’m too preoccupied to fully appreciate it. I hear some noise come from the kitchen so I follow it. There he is. Dad. He’s fussing with some pots and pans.

  “Hi.” He says without looking over his shoulder.

  “Hi.”

  “You came.”

  “Surprised? After that stunt you pulled?”

  “I’m sorry about that.” He says as he comes around toward me. He tries to hug me, but I back away. “I was desperate. I had to do something.”

  “You have single handedly destroyed my life! People have been attacking me! I got evicted!” I shout at him. His eyes seem apologetic, but not nearly enough to suit me.

  “I am so sorry. I really didn’t think it would get that bad, but you’re here now. Safe and sound.”

  “But just as angry.”

  “I can see that. Have a seat. I just made some Chicken Parmesan.” I was wondering what that wonderful smell was. I look over at the dinner table and see two plates set up.

  “Expecting company?”

  “Yes. You.”

  “So, you knew I’d come.”

  “Not really, but I had a very good feeling. Hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Wonderful. Why don’t you go on up and get washed and we can sit down to a nice family dinner.”

  “Sure.” I say as I go on up to the bathroom.

  When I get out of the bath, I notice a set of new clothes laid out for me. Nothing fancy, a new shirt, underwear and pants. They’re not bad things. I probably wouldn’t have picked them out myself, but they look like my style. I quickly dress and join my father at the dinner table. It’s a long table with some glass light fixtures hanging just above it. He takes one of the seats at the head of the table and I get planted right next to him. I wolf down the food. I was a lot hungrier than I thought.

  “Have you given thought to what we talked about?”

  “Actually, yes. I have.”

  “And?” He asks. I set my fork down and take a sip of wine.

  “You win, okay? I can’t take living like this anymore. I don’t believe the world is going to end tomorrow, but everyone else seems to. And even if it doesn’t, if I don’t do this now, I’ll forever be the woman who was going to let the world die. You can’t come back from that.”

  “I’m sorry to have to pressure you like this, Larissa.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t lie. You’re not sorry. If you were, you wouldn’t have done it.” I say. I turn away from him and focus on my food. There’s a persistent silence.

  “You wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t believe this was all real. There is some little bit of you that believes. Admit it.”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “You believe the story behind how the church came about.”

  “No, I accept it as the story you claim to be true. I never said I believed it. Mom told me all those crazy stories about demons and monsters. She seemed real sold on it all, but I just never bought it. I still don’t. Uncle Ivar told me that he believed your story about being possessed.”

  “Honey, there is more in this world than you can possibly imagine.”

  “There are no demons! There are no ghosts! There are no monsters! None of it exists! You’re just a crazy old man who’s being used by this so-called church just so they can squeeze a few million out of a gullible public!” I say. Dad just goes quiet. He looks down and pokes at his food with his fork. “I’m sorry.” I say, feeling a pang of guilt.

  “Why have you been so stubborn?”

  “What?”

  “If you didn’t believe any of this, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just humor me?”

  “Because I don’t think you deserve that kind of consideration. You left me and mom high and dry all those years ago. Why should I give a damn how you feel?”

  “Fair enough. I admit I wasn’t very good to you or your mother. I miss her. I really regret that part of my life.”

  “Leaving her or meeting her at all?” I say. Dad jumps up from his seat and his face is burning with rage.

  “I do not regret, for one second, any part of my relationship with your mother! I loved Gwen! I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as her.” He calms quickly and sits back down.

  “Okay. Calm down.”

  “It hasn’t been an easy life for me either.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I say smartly as I look around. “You’ve really suffered.”

  “I have. Do you think there’s any part of this life that satisfies me as much as being with you and your mother did? This is a nice place, but I’m alone here. I have millions of followers, but not one of them loves me. Not really.”

  “Then why? Why did you do it? You could have stepped down at any time and come back to us.”

  “It’s not that simple. I was given a message.”

  “Oh, right! The message! How could I forget? Some crazy voice tells you something when you think you’re in some kind of limbo, and that means you need to be the next Jesus!”

  “I am not the next Jesus.”

  “No shit.”

  “We should really discuss the details of tomorrow.”

  “Yes. Let’s do that.” I agree. Dad pres
ses a button on the side of the table and a few minutes later, the elevator opens and Morgan and Damon appear.

  “You called, Savior?” Damon asks.

  “Yes. Larissa has come back to the fold.”

  “Wonderful! Everything is already running on schedule.” Morgan explains.

  “Good. I was just hoping you two could help me explain what Larissa needs to do tomorrow.”

  “Of course.” Damon says as he takes the seat across from me. His eyes are weird. The light hits them and they seem to sparkle with some odd, bizarre color. It’s kind of a brown-red mixed with green. “It’s very simple. We are going to go out to an offshore platform where you will recite an incantation that will open the gate.”

  “Run that by me again? Out to sea?”

  “Yes. We have pinpointed the exact place this gateway will appear, which happens to be on the ocean floor. We’ve built a solid platform in the middle of the Atlantic around those coordinates. It’s very safe. Very secure.”

  “And you’re sure about this?”

  “Very.”

  “So what do I say?”

  “Tomorrow. We’ll give you cards. All you need to worry about is being ready to go. We’ll take care of the rest.”

  “All right. That sounds simple enough.”

  “We should be ready to ship out as early as eight, Savior.”

  “That’s fine. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to show my daughter her accommodations.”

  “Of course, Savior. Until tomorrow.” Morgan says and she and Damon both find their ways out.

  Dad leads me upstairs and down the small hallway to the second door, right next to the bathroom. He opens it up and a room that looked like a Las Vegas penthouse suite opens up to me. Wall to wall carpet, a large bed with silk sheets. There’s even a small sitting area a few feet away.