by Michael Todd
Katie ran in and Damian shut the door behind him, both pointing their pistols at the beasts. The first one lunged toward Katie, forcing her to dive to the side. It whimpered as it hit the wall, tearing the cables from the back of the television. It jumped to its feet and growled, narrowing its eyes and focusing in on Katie. She got to her feet and put her hands up.
“There, there, little puppy,” she cooed, putting away her pistol and slowly pulling out her sword. “Be a good doggie and heel.”
The dog barked so loudly the house shook before sprinting toward her at full speed. It leapt into the air and dove for Katie’s head, its teeth shimmering in the light from the window. Katie screamed, slashing her sword through the air and taking the dog’s head clean off its shoulders. The beast immediately evaporated into dust, showering her with its remains. She spat the ashes from her mouth and looked at Damian, who was wrestling the second hound on the floor. He had lost his pistol during the fight, so he couldn’t just shoot it.
“This is no time for games,” Katie said, marching over and kicking the dog in the ribs.
It snapped at her, almost taking off her arm. She pulled her hand back with wide eyes and growled at the beast. She sheathed her sword and grabbed both of her knives, jamming them into the dog’s hairless back. It whined loudly and lifted its legs from Damian’s arms. He quickly pulled a knife and slit the hellhound’s throat, closing his eyes as the beast turned to dust.
“Jesus,” he said, shaking the dust from his body. “Bad-fucking-Fido.”
“Right?” Katie said, reaching down and helping him to his feet.
A moment later they heard a snarling growl behind them and they slowly turned toward the entrance to the kitchen, where the last hellhound was licking its lips and growling at them. It bolted toward them, forcing Katie and Damian to dive to the side. The beast kept going, breaking through the large glass window in the front wall and taking off down the street.
“I think that new Purina formula is really helping Spot grow,” Katie remarked, looking out the window.
It was the Robertsons’ fifth annual barbeque, and they had set everything up just perfectly.
Mrs. Robertson was inside making some Watergate Salad while the guests milled happily around the perfectly manicured lawn. Mr. Robertson stood at the grill wearing his “Best BBQ Dad” apron, spatula in hand.
Kids ran through the yard, giggling and screaming as they chased the family pooch, a chihuahua named Fifi. Mrs. Robertson stepped into the doorway and called all the kids inside to watch their favorite movie. The ten or so adults laughed as the kids bolted in, excited for another rousing viewing of the Disney classic.
“You should get yourself a bigger dog,” one of the guests commented to the host. “Maybe something like a lab, or maybe a German Shepherd.”
“I’ve been thinking about it, actu—”
He dropped the spatula as a huge horribly-disfigured and diseased-looking hound leapt over the six-foot fence around their yard. He scraped up the grass and dirt as he landed, and flung slobber all over the guests. They screamed and backed up as the beast looked right and left, trying to figure out where to go next.
Fifi ran forward and barked loudly at the hound. The hound looked at the other fence, but before leaping over he grabbed Fifi and chomped her in half, leaving the little dog’s body on the grass.
Everyone was silent for a moment after that, but then they started screaming again, and grabbing one another. Mr. Robertson, his mouth hanging open, looked up as two people jumped his fence, landing right next to the half-eaten chihuahua. The woman looked down and grimaced, then glanced at the crowd, who quickly pointed to the adjacent fence. She smiled and nodded and they both took off again, hurtling that fence and disappearing.
The dumbfounded guest standing next to Mr. Robertson began to clap.
“Whew,” he yelled. “That was some freaking show, man. I mean seriously, what are you doing to us here? You got a Marvel comics punk or something going on? Where are the hidden cameras? I bet there’s one on that button on your apron.”
He leaned forward at the button and smiled, waving wildly.
“That was really something,” he said, patting Mr. Robertson on the back. “Hilarious, actually. Really funny. Where’s your real dog? I mean, wow! They really are making those animatronic dogs lifelike now, aren’t they?”
He walked over to the dog’s back end and picked it up, whereupon half its intestines fell to the ground. He laughed and faked a scared face as the rest of the guests grimaced.
Mrs. Robertson walked to the doorway, wiping her hands and smiling, having missed the whole event. She froze, then let out a bloodcurdling scream.
“FIFI, MY PRECIOUS BABY!”
The guest dropped the bloody carcass.
The gray and white cat tiptoed across the privacy fence between the yards.
His tail was high as he sniffed the breeze that blew through the neighborhood, and he opened his mouth to sing the mating song of his people.
Peering out the window of the house next door was a very irritated man in his mid-fifties. He was wearing slippers, and his round belly hung over the top of his shorts.
“Oh Roger, just let it go,” his wife said wearily, pushing her palm against her curlers. “It’s just a cat.”
“It’s the Simmons’ cat again,” he hissed. “How many times do I need to tell them to keep that damn thing in their house? Not only is that wailing horrible to listen to, but he attracts all the other cats in the neighborhood and before we know it there’s dirty cat pornography happening between our houses.”
“It’s just not worth going into it with them for the third time.” His wife sighed. “You know they’re going to keep that cat around.”
“Yeah, well, I can fix this,” he growled, turning and grabbing a shoe.
He slapped the sole of the shoe on his palm as he turned back to the window and put both hands on the frame to open it. However, when he looked outside, he dropped the shoe and slowly backed away from the window.
The hellhound bounded through yards, crashing through tables and just about drowning some people in a pool along the way. He ran toward a tall fence, tensing his muscles to jump it. As he did, he spotted a gray and white cat singing on top and leapt toward it.
He grabbed it in his mouth and chomped the little furball in half, dropping the pieces into the next yard. Up to that point, even though he had crashed through a number of backyards, he had attracted little attention.
He jumped another fence and took off across the street. Katie and Damian, who were following him, were panting from the exhaustion, so they stopped at the edge of the street to catch their breath. Katie looked at Damian and shook her head.
“Hellhounds really…hate…cats,” Damian wheezed.
Katie nodded and they took off again, running through yards, jumping more fences, and untangling plants and bushes from their legs as they went. Katie leapt over another half a cat and shook her head.
“It’s about time those animal control people got off their asses and did a little work around here,” Katie yelled. “Stop leaving this shit for us!”
“Right?” Damian yelled back as they leapt over another fence.
They heard a yelp and looked at each other, then cleared the last brick privacy fence on the block.
When they landed they found the beast with its leg in the pool, licking its furless disgusting paw. Katie pulled out her sword and Damian his cross as they backed the snarling beast into the corner of the yard. Katie looked at Damian and nodded, stepping forward with her sword in hand. She looked at the hound.
“Sorry, buddy, it’s time to put you down,” she told the thing as she swung the sword downward and split the dog’s head in half. It turned into a pile of dust.
Katie leaned over and put her hands on her knees as an older woman walked out onto her deck and looked at them like they were crazy.
“My roses!” she cried.
“This is great fertilizer,”
Katie yelled back, dropping the handful of dust onto the ground. Damian laughed through his pain.
Ella had been at the base for hours on her own, with no idea when anyone was coming back. She had read almost every memorial plaque on the upstairs wall, and her nerves were on high alert.
Everyone was gone, and there was nothing keeping her there. She wanted to go home; to see her mom, hug her dad, and finally get her life together. She didn’t want to be a demon slayer. She wanted to just be herself. She shook her head and grabbed her jacket as she walked toward the door.
Where are you going? Melneck asked.
I’m out, I’m done, she replied, slamming the door behind her and cutting across the front lawn.
Oh, hell no, he snapped, freezing her where she stood. Not until we have a little talk.
Chapter Twenty-One
General Brushwood looked across his desk at Colonel Jehovivich. She shook her head and sighed, putting her cover down on the table. The general was quiet, thinking about the latest news to break across their desk.
“These military teams have got to get their shit together,” the colonel said. “Excuse my language sir. I’m just tired of being in last place.”
“I understand,” the general said. “Your frustration is warranted, there is no doubt about that. I am feeling pressure from across the globe. The other countries are looking to us for support and guidance, and we can’t even take out a little incursion in Middle of Nowhere, Minnesota.”
“There has to be something we can do. The mercenary teams are great and they are carrying us, but there is only so much they can do with so few assets.” The colonel sighed.
“Precisely,” the general replied. “But right now, we are between a rock and a hard place.”
“General Brushwood, Colonel Attlewood is here to see you. He says it’s urgent,” the secretary said over the intercom.
“Yes, send him in,” the general directed, standing up and buttoning his coat. “We will continue this at a better time.”
“Yes, sir,” Jehovivich replied, standing up and nodding.
The door to the general’s office opened and in walked Attlewood. He halted and stood at attention, and when the general nodded Attlewood walked forward in a hurry, carrying a folder in his hands. He nodded at Jehovivich and took a deep breath.
“There is a large demon incursion happening as we speak in Virginia, sir,” he began. “We don’t know how many or what size, but they are wreaking havoc. The team is ready to deploy, but they are requesting at least a two-person team backup from the mercenaries.”
“Of course they are.” The general sighed. “Let me make a call.”
He went back behind his desk and opened his black phone book. He skimmed his finger down the numbers and stopped on John William Smith’s name. If they were requesting mercenary backup the situation was bad, and he knew that the New York team could handle just about anything. He picked up the phone and dialed the number, looking at Jehovivich as she took a seat on the edge of the chair.
“John,” he started. “It’s General Brushwood.”
“Sir,” John replied. “What can I do for you?”
“There is an incursion in Virginia, and from what I’ve been told it is a big one,” he explained. “We have some men preparing to head out, but they are short-handed and are requesting backup. We are tapped out here, so I am calling to request that you send a couple of yours out.”
“Okay.” John thought for a moment. “I actually have a pair of redshirts who can go. They’re from the Vegas base. They will need transportation. We don’t have a chopper up here, and getting through New York airspace is almost impossible unless it’s government.”
“That’s not a problem.” The general looked at Attlewood. “We will send a Blackhawk to pick them up. What are their names?”
“Uh, Katie, who is the Las Vegas heavy, and Damian, their priest,” John replied.
“Perfect. Tell Katie and Damian to be ready,” he directed. “We are facing the possibility of a major incursion out there.”
“They will want to bring their own weapons,” John told him.
“They can bring the head of a chicken for all I care, as long as it will kill a fucking demon,” the general replied.
“Yes, sir.” John hung up.
It was going to be interesting.
“I don’t think I’ve ever imagined something like that,” Katie remarked as Damian drove them back toward the base. “I mean seriously, the thing was like a demon on steroids with a bone in his mouth.”
“Did you see how he chomped that hole in the fence?” Damian chuckled.
“Yeah like he had a chainsaw for teeth.” Katie laughed. “I have to give it to him…he bit that chihuahua in half like it was nothing. I really don’t like those little yappers.”
“Well, he’s in chihuahua hell now, so you can rest assured the world is safe from another Taco Bell dog.” Damian chuckled.
They pulled up in front of the base and hopped out, opening the back and grabbing their gear. Katie lifted her bag up and over her head, then stepped back so Damian could grab his stuff. They headed for the front door, but Katie stopped halfway up the walk.
“What is that?” Katie asked, slapping Damian in his stomach with the back of her hand.
“What?” He grabbed his belly. “You need to learn how to use your strength.”
“Oh, sorry.” Katie turned back to the yard. “That… Is that a person lying in the yard? Holy shit, is that Ella?”
They dumped their gear and raced across the yard, dropping to their knees at her side. Katie checked her heartrate, which was on the fast side of normal. She was out cold.
Katie looked at Damian, who had searched for wounds but found nothing. He shrugged in confusion and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. They made their way inside and down to the med bay, where he laid her on the table and began examining her further.
“I don’t get it,” Damian exclaimed. “There are no signs of struggle or injury or anything like that. Her vitals are all stable; the only thing odd is, her heart is a bit fast.”
Just then she groaned, turned her head to the side, and fell silent again. Katie frowned and looked closely at the girl’s face.
Pandora, can you tell if there is something wrong? she asked.
I already know, Melneck is restraining her, she told Katie.
“Melneck!” Katie called. “Let her go.”
Katie shook her head and turned to Damian, who was looking at her strangely. Katie rubbed her temples and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t sure how to fix this, or even why it was happening.
“Her demon’s name is Melneck,” Katie explained. “He has her restrained.”
“Why?” Damian asked.
“Who knows?” Katie replied. “She could be out for days.”
Just then the demon released her, and Ella sat up and breathed in deeply. She started to cuss Melneck out as soon as she could speak, and her hands clenched into fists. Katie and Damian just watched her for a moment.
“That bastard froze me,” Ella growled, looking at Katie.
“Why?” Katie asked. “What happened?”
“So…fucking…stupid. He thinks he can rule my life,” she grumbled.
“Ella!” Katie yelled to get her attention before softening her voice. “Why did he restrain you?”
“I just wanted to see my mom, okay?” Ella screamed at Katie.
Katie clenched her teeth and slapped her across the face. Ella grabbed her cheek and gasped. Katie held her finger up and growled.
“Get over it,” she yelled. “Don’t get mad at your demon. He just saved you from becoming research!”
“What?” Ella whimpered, tears burning the corners of her eyes.
“I told you in the beginning,” Katie reminded her, lowering her hand but sticking out three fingers. “There are only three options for people like us.”
“Perhaps I wasn’t listening,” Ella confessed quietly, looking do
wn at her lap.
“You think?” Katie growled, turning and pacing.
“You see, Ella,” Damian said, stepping forward and checking her vitals again. “You can either die, become the lab’s research subject, or work on the teams. There are no other options. Well, except for exorcism.”
“What’s wrong with exorcism?” Ella asked. “Why can’t I do that? Get this lousy asshole out of me.”
“It doesn’t always work,” Katie explained. “If your demon fights it and he is strong enough, which he is, it will mess you up really bad. You can end up in hell with your demon or be completely taken over by your demon—at which point we’ll kill you—or even drop into a state of catatonia where you can’t wake up but you can’t sleep either.”
“It seems worth it to me,” Ella grumped, crossing her arms over her chest.
Sounds like you have a death wish, Melneck remarked calmly.
You don’t like the idea of exorcism? Ella asked him. You can be free of me, I can be free of you, and we can go our own separate ways, not even remembering each other. Life can go back to how it was…or it could be better, because now I can focus on school and stuff. We could get away from these people and back to our old lives.
You would be back in your old life, Melneck pointed out. I, on the other hand, would not.
Why? Ella asked. I don’t understand.
Look, there is no way I am leaving this side, he said. And in an exorcism, I would have no choice. I know what is waiting for me back in hell, and that is not an option.
What is waiting for you? Ella asked carefully.
The leader, or one of them. T’Chezz. He is trying to kill me, Melneck replied.
I thought you couldn’t be killed? she queried.
I could be sent into the depths of hell, not to reemerge for centuries, or there are others—beings I don’t wish to take notice of me—who might give me a permanent death. I’m told dying with you might accomplish that as well. And permanent death—just disappearing from life altogether, never coming back, poof, my dark and ominous soul lost forever—nope, not happening