The Devil's Demeanor

by Hart, Jerry

  “I know what you’ve done,” said Don. “I’ve read the stories.”

  “That was after. I’m talking about my time with the monster. My time as the monster.”

  Don tasted bile as he recalled the pain in his gut outside the creature’s cave. “Tell me.”

  “That thing would never let me sleep,” Ethan began. “I probably stayed up for a week straight after it took me. Every time I dozed off, it would hurt or scare me. It wanted me to get used to not needing rest.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it doesn’t rest,” Ethan replied with venom.

  “Why did it take you?”

  Ethan tilted his head, a strained grin on his face. “Why do you think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think!” he snapped.

  Don jumped in surprise. “Because the monster wanted a son?”

  Ethan shook his head. “Because it wanted to be out in the world, without fear from the gods.”

  Don thought over that for a moment. “The gods?” He decided to ignore that for a moment and move on to another topic. “That night, when Mom died, it was there to collect her, wasn’t it?”

  “It wanted both of us,” Ethan replied. “It’s never taken two people before. It never knew it could spread its influence like that. To a pregnant woman and her unborn child.”

  “Where is it now?”

  Ethan shrugged. “Back in its hole, I guess. I escaped, and it hasn’t been able to find me for some reason.”

  “Did it tell you to kill all those people?” Don asked heatedly.

  “Not those people. It made me kill a bunch of other people for it, told me they had to die because they posed a threat to its kind. The people with the messages, though…I did those on my own. After all these years, it drove me insane. Does an insane person know he’s insane, Donovan?”

  “Why did you do it?”

  Ethan took a few steps forward. “I’m your baby brother. You were supposed to protect me from the demon. Instead, you watched it take me away.”

  “You went with it!” Don yelled back. “Why did you kill Adrian?”

  “Because he hurt Mom.”

  “That’s not the only reason.” Don remembered the urge to do bad things over the years, most recently wanting to stab Yvonne with the knives. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “That’s what the curse is, that’s how it works.” Don felt sick again. He wanted to get out of the stuffy, dark auditorium. He wanted to get away from Ethan.

  He barely noticed the candles closest to Ethan, and how the flames looked like they were being sucked toward him. Some of the candles near Don were doing the same thing to him, but not nearly as much.

  “Well,” said Don, spreading his arms before him. “You have me here. What’s next?”

  “I’m going to kill you so the monster can’t control you the way it did me,” said Ethan with that awful cackle of a voice. “I escaped it, but it might take you over and come after me again.”

  “It can’t control me,” Don said. “I’m different; the curse won’t affect me the same way.”

  “Won’t it?”

  Don felt uneasy. “No.”

  Ethan stepped closer. “Are you sure? Otherwise, I’ll have to kill you.”

  Don wasn’t sure. He didn’t even know why he’d said that. He looked to the candles again, to the flames being drawn to him. “Let me help you,” he finally said to Ethan. “There has to be a cure.”

  “There is no cure.” Ethan considered for a moment before adding, “Except death.”

  “What if we kill the demon?”

  “It can’t be killed.”

  “Everything can be killed!” Don was becoming frustrated by the conversation. It felt to him like Ethan was drawing out the tension just to torture him.

  And then it hit Don. Ethan wasn’t going to kill him, no matter what happened.

  Suddenly, Ethan began to laugh and clap at the same time, startling Don. That jackal grin was back and worse than ever. “I saw that look on your face,” he said. “You think you understand me. You think I won’t kill you.” He stopped laughing and clapping. And then he kicked a few of the candles over.

  The stage immediately caught fire.

  Don turned to grab a fire extinguisher, but before he could take two steps, he was grabbed from behind and thrown through the air. He landed hard on the wooden stage, onto a pool of blood. He was separated from his brother by a wall of flame. He was also surrounded by bodies. He stood and saw his little brother run out the exit.

  Don looked around for another exit. He found himself backstage a moment later. He was on a landing, looking down into a fairly large room full of props. Everything appeared to be made of wood.

  He ran down the steps and made his way through the cluttered room. When he finally made it to the exit that led out to one of the mall’s many corridors, he found it wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t locked, so it must have been blocked from the other side. He turned back toward the stairs and saw the landing on fire. He couldn’t go back that way. He was trapped in a room full of flammable material.

  He was going to die.

  Don looked up at the sprinklers in the ceiling. Why weren’t they being activated?

  It took only a second to figure it out. It took only a second longer to realize Ethan had been planning this very night for a while. Don remembered how someone had been tampering with the water pressure throughout the mall. It had been Ethan all along—he didn’t want the sprinklers to save Don when the time came. But there were other ways to put out a fire. Don looked around for a fire extinguisher.

  The one he found was empty.

  He dropped it and looked around again. He found a lot of costumes. They were stacked on racks in the middle of the room. He quickly went through them and found a purple cape that was thankfully flame-retardant.

  Don draped it over himself and raced back up the stairs. He wasn’t sure how bad the fire had become, but he knew he couldn’t stay where he was. He was about to run through the flames when he remembered how fire reacted to him. He always drew it toward him when he got close enough. Surely he would catch on fire the moment he made his move.

  He had to take that chance, though. Don counted to three and ran ahead.

  He made it to a clear patch of stage and looked around. The bodies were on fire. Don nearly vomited at the sight and smell, but managed to keep himself calm. The closest flames pointed at him like accusing fingers, but did not make contact.

  Running through the maze of fire, he managed to get off the stage. Most of the candles had tipped over, adding fuel to the inferno, but Don made it to the exit. Surprisingly, it was not blocked.

  He took a deep breath of fresh air in the playhouse’s lobby and immediately saw Ethan through one of the windows, staring and waving. Don ran to the broken entrance. The doors would not open. He kicked and jumped at them. He ran back to the window to see his brother still standing there.

  Smoke started pouring from the auditorium, so Don closed the doors to buy himself some time. He then grabbed a chair and hurled it at the window. Ethan didn’t even flinch as the chair bounced off. That glass was stronger than it looked. It was also lined with wooden frames. The entire playhouse looked like an old shop or cabin. Don had found it intriguing, but now it angered him.

  He wrapped the cloak around himself once again and charged the window without hesitation. He heard and felt shattered glass. Then he was in midair. He then landed hard on the ground.

  Before he knew it, he was being pulled to his feet. Ethan’s hideous face greeted him.

  Don reflexively punched him in the nose. Ethan let go and backed away, hands to his face. Don tried to recall his karate training from when he was a kid. He’d only gotten to third-degree yellow belt, but that was enough to defend himself now.

  Ethan lowered his hands quickly and shrieked at Don. It was an inhuman sound, causing Don to cringe.

 
; “If you want to kill me,” said Don, “you’re going to have to work for it.” He was amazed at how calm he felt.

  “You better hope I kill you,” Ethan said in a horribly deep voice. “If you survive tonight, I’m going to make you wish you hadn’t for the rest of your life. Everywhere you go, I’ll be there. You’ll never know peace again!”

  And then Ethan lunged.

  Don jumped to the side and stuck out his right arm, clothes-lining his brother. Ethan fell on his back, but was up again in the blink of an eye. He swung at Don and missed by an inch. Don kicked at Ethan’s knee, and there was a noticeable snap.

  Ethan fell to the ground, grasping his injured left leg. Don stood ready for anything, the blaze to his left utterly forgotten.

  Ethan whined on the floor like an injured puppy.

  “I’m not falling for that,” Don said.

  Ethan immediately ceased whining and slowly stood back up. His leg jutted at an awkward angle for a moment before snapping back into place. “Why haven’t you called for help?” he asked.

  Don suddenly remembered not only his work cell but his personal phone, one in each pocket. But he said, “Because I want to finish this.”

  “You going to kill me, big brother?”

  “If I have to. Then I’ll burn you so Dad will never know you were here.”

  Ethan tilted his head back and laughed maniacally. He continued to do so as the playhouse exploded next to them.

  * * *

  Don woke feeling extreme heat and nausea. He was lying flat on his back, an inferno to his left and a bump on his head. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was.

  And then it came rushing back to him—the mall was on fire!

  He jumped to his feet and instantly regretted it. He threw up for a moment and then focused on the burning playhouse. The fire had spread to the stores next to it. He ran around the corner to grab a fire extinguisher when he noticed even more shops had caught fire. The entire east side of the mall was aflame. He ran to the nearest extinguisher housing and found it empty. Ethan must have hidden it. Don couldn’t remember if he’d checked the extinguishers tonight during his circuit.

  He realized he couldn’t save the building, but he could save himself. Where was Ethan? Don hadn’t seen him since waking up. Did he escape? Was he waiting somewhere to ambush him? Don wasn’t going to wait around and find out. He ran back to the playhouse; the nearest exit was there.

  So was Ethan.

  Don stopped dead in his tracks. “We’ll both die,” he said to his little brother.

  “You’re not leaving alive,” came the reply.

  “Why don’t you kill me yourself, instead of letting nature do it?”

  For that, Ethan had no answer.

  Don smiled. “You can’t, can you? I’m your big brother.”

  Ethan slowly shook his head. Don found that surprisingly unnerving.

  “Then why?” Don asked again. “The fire department will be here any second, and I can easily use another exit. But first, I want to know why you’re doing this.”

  “I’m trying to save you,” Ethan finally said. Surely Don misheard.

  Flashing lights appeared outside the mall, just behind Ethan. He suddenly darted into the burning playhouse before Don could move a muscle. Instead of going after him, Don ran out into the parking lot.

  * * *

  Don was jobless. The company he’d worked for had trouble placing him at another site after the incident at the mall. Don had told the authorities he didn’t know how the fire got started. The police and fire department found the homeless victims in the playhouse, and the investigation had gone on weeks after the mall burned down. From what Don could tell, no one had found Ethan’s body among the victims. Don hadn’t told anyone of his brother’s involvement.

  With his break in work, he was quickly running through his savings. He contemplated—and dreaded—moving back in with Dad and Yvonne. Craig and Corey hadn’t paid their portions of the rent in God knew how long.

  Don had trouble sleeping that first week after the fire. Besides worrying about his uncertain future, he also worried about Ethan. He didn’t see how his brother could have escaped that inferno, but he knew he would be seeing Ethan again before long. Would he follow Don back to Dad’s house? The younger Scott boy hadn’t harmed Don’s roommates during his stealthy break-ins, but Don couldn’t get the sight of the homeless dead out of his mind.

  Ethan had done all of that, and there was nothing stopping him from going to Dad’s house on his own. But Don didn’t think he would—there was no reason to.

  Suddenly, his cell phone rang.

  He reached over and retrieved it from the night stand next to his bed. It was midday and depressingly gloomy. Corey and Craig were out doing their own things. “Hello?” he answered.

  “Jesus Christ, Don!” Dad yelled through the earpiece. “I just now heard what happened. Are you all right? Why didn’t you call me?” He was more frantic than Don had heard him in a good long time.

  “I’m fine, Dad. I got out in plenty of time.”

  “How did the place burn down?”

  “Didn’t you hear? There were homeless people inside, and they had a bunch of candles. They accidentally burned the mall down.”

  There was a long silence. And then Dad said, “Is that what really happened?”

  Don’s heart accelerated. “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me the truth, Donovan.”

  “Dad....” Don found himself speechless as tears sprang to his eyes. And then the words sprang forth. “Ethan tried to kill me!”

  Another silence. After what felt like a whole minute, Dad whispered, “You’ve seen your brother?”

  “Yes. And he tried to kill me! He’s crazy, Dad. We have to stop him.”

  “It can’t be,” Dad said. Don could barely hear over his own sobbing.

  “Dad?”

  “The curse....”

  And then the line went dead.

  Don jumped in his truck moments later and raced onto I-35. If there was no traffic, he could be at his father’s house in fifteen minutes. He had to get there. Something in Dad’s voice....

  Something was terribly wrong. Don knew it.

  Twenty minutes later, he was rushing through Dad’s front door with the key he still had on his key chain. No one seemed to be home. “Dad?” he called. No reply. “Dad!” he screamed. Still no reply.

  A groan came from the living room straight ahead. Don ran forward and saw his father lying facedown just before the black leather couch. Don turned him over gently. “Dad? What happened?”

  Dad seemed unable to answer. His face was red and bloated. His eyes were streaming tears.

  “Are you having a heart attack?” Don asked. Dad nodded. Don pulled out his cell phone and called for an ambulance.

  Dad pulled him closer a moment later. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you...all this time.”

  “About the curse?” Don couldn’t believe they were having this conversation now.

  Dad nodded again. “I...saw Ethan.” He pointed to the back porch a few feet away. “He was just standing there...staring at me...smiling that smile.”

  No one was on the porch now, but Don believed him. “You’re going to be okay, Dad. I’ll take care of Ethan. I promise.”

  “Stay away from him,” Dad whispered. “He’s lost to us, son. Just stay away.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Don began to cry. Ethan had promised to haunt Don for the rest of his life if he survived the fire. He couldn’t go on knowing his little brother was cowering in the shadows. How could anyone live like that? Don couldn’t imagine doing so without his father to protect him. “Dad?” He shook his father but got no response.

  Patrick Scott was gone.

  * * *

  The funeral was held a few days later. Surprisingly, Don did not cry. Nor did he bother looking around for Ethan—he knew his brother was watching. Don just didn’t care.

  Dad had left behind a generous life-i
nsurance policy for Don. Instead of using that to pay for rent, however, Don moved back in with Yvonne. Luckily, the house was fully paid for, but Yvonne got a job in the months following her husband’s death.

  Don, however, did not get a job. Instead, he devoted his time and money to finding Ethan. He had nearly two-hundred grand to his name, and though he wanted to invest in his future, he knew he had no future with his brother in the picture.

  Over the course of six months, Ethan periodically made his presence known with subtle and not-so-subtle threats. Dead animals on the porch, in Don’s truck. Don made sure to clean up these messes before Yvonne saw them. As far as he could tell, she didn’t notice anything.

  It was only when Don became desperate he went to a private investigator. It was nearly a year after Dad’s death, and the attacks had stopped altogether. Don knew this had to be the calm before the storm, and instead of trying to enjoy the peace while it lasted, he took his time to find Ethan and put a stop to his attacks once and for all.

  The only way to do that would be to kill Ethan. Don asked himself countless times if he was prepared to do that. Each time, the answer was the same.

  To pass the time, he got a part-time job at the movie theater down the street. It definitely beat working at that depressing mall. He didn’t necessarily need the money, either. Not yet, at least.

  The P.I. was having considerable difficulty locating Ethan. Don wasn’t surprised, considering how his brother had been living for the past decade. No income, fixed address, or known acquaintances.

  So Don continued to wait.

  * * *

  A month after hiring the investigator, Don got a call while at work. The P.I. said he’d located someone matching Ethan’s description.

  “Where is he?” Don asked.

  “Your hometown of Augusta, Georgia.”

  Don took a moment to register that information. He was in Concession on a Friday night, helping fill orders. He wasn’t supposed to have his cell phone on him. He was standing in front of the popcorn machine, letting the current batch burn, when a chief of staff walked up to him.

  “Get off your phone, Mr. Scott.”

  Don ignored the short man and dumped the blackened popcorn instinctively. “What makes you think it’s him?” he asked into the phone. The chief didn’t look at all pleased.