Demons

Part three

By Robin

Kitsune

“I’m Kitsune,” I say. I extend my hand.

“Shannon Iggans,” the Native American woman says.  She gives me a firm handshake.

“Shenanigans? What? Isn’t that like a human word for… mischief or something?”

That’s weird. Who name’s their kid that?

“No,” she says with a smile. “It’s not real. The DEC told me not to let anyone know my real one.”

“What’s the real one?” I ask, as I lean down to pick up the little human girl.

Shannon frowns.

“I don’t want to say,” she says.

I nod. Better just to let it go.

“We should get this girl to a human hospital as soon as possible. Do you happen to have a Fear Recovery Unit?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Iggans says. “It’s a long walk. Hope you don’t mind.”

I can’t go with her. Humans hate me. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Iggans to be this accepting.

“I should really stay here. Most humans don’t… like me.”

Iggans frowns. Then she walks over and takes the girl from me.

“Alright. I know how you feel. The rest of humanity is not very accepting of Navajo like me,” she says. Then she turns to leave.

Hmm. There’s something I’ve been thinking about. I want to join the DEC. Maybe if I joined, they wouldn’t hate me. Maybe I could even live with them, instead of in this super clean, isolated sector.

And then one day… maybe they could send me home.

“Wait!” I yell after her. “You don’t happen to be looking for any jobs, are you? Or at least, is the DEC?”

I almost immediately feel like an ass. Why would they hire someone they thought was demon?

But Iggans cocks her head to one side.

“As you can imagine, that doesn’t sound like the greatest idea. I happen to work alongside some of the more racist humans,” she says thoughtfully. “But… you seem to be good at… killing your own kind.”

I shake my head.

“They aren’t my kind. I’m as much human as I am daimonian.”

Iggans smiles.

“Then,” she says, “You have yourself a job. I’ll call if I need you.”

And then she takes off at a breakneck pace.

Jack

Rumor has it that a little girl was stolen from one of the human districts a couple hours ago. Thanks to some lady with a ridiculous name, the girl is in an FRU.

Weird shit like this happen all the time. The demons have really over taken the world. Now, they pretty much run rampant. And the Snakes who persecute us every day stand by and watch.

Now that that lady mentioned it, I sort of do want to join the DEC. I want take our world back.

Mom would be pissed if I did that, though. She works hard to help keep me out of harms way. I feel like enrolling for the most dangerous job on the planet might be a bad way to honor that.

But still…

Shannon Iggans

It was an interesting day.

I yelled an obscenity at a cop, I came face to face with Fear pedophilia, and talked with a Cambion.

That girl is strange as shit. She has horns and ears like a demon, but there is obviously something different about her. Something alien.

I read up on Cambience that night. Lotta weird stuff. Cambions don’t have a pulse till they’re seven. They weigh an obscene amount, but they don’t ever get fat.

The fact that she can kill a demon is almost… scary. We’d never even dreamed of doing something like that.

It’s definitely a bad idea to actually have her enlist for the SFDEC. The people of the world have become bitter. They hate the demons.

Me? Not so much. But I send them back to the Pit so that the human race can survive. The Snakes and the Octos trapped us in this huge ghetto. I just wanna get out.

Unfortunately, my kind has already died out. The Navajo have become non-existent. I am the last of them, I think. That’s why I use the tomahawks and put feathers in my hair.

I stop on the corner of 5th street and 4th Avenue. At the place where the sidewalks converge there is a manhole.

I look around. I don’t wanna get caught. Octos really start to prowl around at this time of night.

Once I check that no one can see me, I lift the manhole and slip awkwardly down into the SFDEC’s lobby. It’s funny how close the Octos are to catching us, but they never have.

A cold, severe looking woman sits at the front desk.

I walk past and she shoots her hand out and grabs my arm.

“Hey. I need ID,” she says.

“Are you kidding? I walk past you every day!” I half shout. I’m not in the mood to play the creepy-ass paranoia game right now.

“Ma’am, you know Cambion could just slink in here using your form, right?” she says with an air of contempt.

“Ma’am,” I say sarcastically. “Did you know she could also create a fake ID card?”

She lets go of my arm with a look of angry resignation.

I walk down a long dark hallway. At the end of the corridor, I take a right and walk nonchalantly into the chief’s office.

“Hello, Gaagi,” Mr. Canary says. The room smells weird. Like demon blood and Germex.

“Don’t call me that. Please,” I say. He always makes me feel uncomfortable.

He leans forward, and I can see his thin body shift in his oily yellow suit.

“You did well today, Gaagi,” he says with smile.

I hate being anywhere near him. It almost feels like he’s glaring at me from behind those dark little glasses.

“Thank you. Sir,” I say, making an effort to correct myself. He’s really frisky about the whole “Sir” thing.

“You managed to stop a fear daimonian from taking a new form. You also managed to safe a little girl’s life. But… one thing I would like to know is… how did you kill it? I noticed you hadn’t taken any of your Deadguns, ” Mr. Finch simply states, leaning forward in his chair.

Damn. I knew he’d ask this. I can’t tell him about the Cambion. I’ll probably lose my job.

By the way, Deadguns are the only known way to actually kill a demon for good. Usually we don’t resort to such drastic measures. A hell gun works well enough.

“I just acted fast, sir. I knew what needed to be done and did it,” I say, as firmly as I can.

“I see. And how did you know what needed to be done? I was aware that only Cambion magic could kill a daimonion.”

“Yes, well when he saw me, he let go of her. Then I shot him and he disappeared.”

“Thank you, Gaagi. That was very helpful.”

He leans back in his old leather chair. I know that this conversation is not over.

Demons

Part two

By Robin

Kitsune

Orang Minyak, my father, is talking to another succumbus hooker. He’s such a dick. All he does is make hotcakes and fried harpy eggs in his diner and… you know… do it with succumbus.

He’s never really been a large part of my life. Besides the fact that he’s my dad, we really have no connection at all.

And yet, because of him, I’m an outcast. I’m a Cambion.

Cambions are crossbreeds of a daimonion and a human. My father, Minyak, is an Incubus, a sex daimonion who prowled around a long time ago, in the 1960s. He terrified young Malaysian women for a while. My mom was the last girl he impregnated.

            Being a Cambion is much, much worse than it seems. To daimonians, I am marked by my pale, almost white skin. And when humans see me, they see only daimonian. To be honest, I am more like them than any daimon.

After his years in Malaysia, he decided to settle down and make his diner in the Astaroth District. He ditched my mom and took me with him.

I don’t hang around the diner much. I run the rooftops and try to help people in need. Not that I’m a crime fighter or anything.

I’m tired of my dad. If I had a gun in hand now, I would probably shoot him. Oh, yeah. Another thing about Cambions. We don’t have much when it comes to sympathy. In fact, the daimonian in you makes it almost completely obsolete.

I’m tired of his flirtations. I need some time alone. I bust out the door and out into the orderly street.

I hate this district. It is cold and cleanly, something that daimonians aren’t really happy with.

Unfortunately, when the daimonians took over, the Snakes assumed control. They’re different from most of the others. They like cold and damp and slimy. They lack horns. They have a cruelty that doesn’t seem to exist in anything else I’ve seen. Daimonians are ruthless, but not heartless.

Snakes have no emotion. Some people think that makes them good leaders. I disagree, but I’m a Cambion. So my opinion is irrelevant.

I’m on the verge of Aeshma Street and Kasadya Avenue when I hear the scream. It’s coming from the alley a couple streets down.

Shannon Iggans

Shit. I’m staking out in the Astaroth District when I hear the scream. It sounds distant, but I’m a fast runner.

Now to get around this backup of cars. Or… maybe I can go over.

I have no qualms about getting mud on these cars. The cars happen to be the nicest ones in the world. When the demons took over, they left us the shitty cars. That’s why I drive a station wagon.

I jump on the first car. A Death specialist demon gives me a scary look, which I should probably take more seriously than I do.

“Suck it!” I yell. Man, that was a bad idea. He jumps out of his car and starts chasing me.

I pull out my tomahawk and send it spiraling into his chest. He disappears in a burst of light. The tomahawk locates my wristband and zooms back to my hand.

An Octos police officer screams at me to stop.

“Fuck you!”

He just looks blankly across the row of cars at me. Octos are a lot like the Snakes. They have a minimal amount of emotion and they have octopus tentacles for tongues. But unlike Snakes, Octos have a hard time reacting to human obscenities.

There’s the alley. Just gotta run in.

When I squeeze into the alley, I take a couple seconds to adjust to the low light. Did I just imagine it? I hear another scream, and now I can tell who it might belong to. It sounds like a little girl.

At the far end of the alley, a Fear demon has his hand placed on a small girl’s forehead. She’s crying. To my surprise, he’s crying with her, but he’s laughing too. Black tears drip down his face. Tendrils energy form between the two.

This is sick. It’s like fear pedophilia. What the hell is going on?

“Hey!”

Someone’s yelling at me from above on the roofs.

I look around. There’s a female Cambion hanging on to a fire escape.

“Don’t just stand there!” she yells as she leaps to the ground. “We have to help her! He’s trying to change form!”

“Alright fine,” I say. I raise my gun to the Fear demon’s head.

The girl knocks the gun from my hand.

“No! If you send him back, he’ll take her with him!”

Dammit. Why won’t she just tell me what to do? This is incredibly unhelpful.

The Cambion pulls a little bag from her belt. She scatters shimmering dust on the ground around the two glowing figures. She draws a star inside the circle. She holds up a pale finger and a small flame ignites. She touches it to the dust and the circle glows.

I’ve heard of this. It’s Cambion magic. Very dangerous, if you’re on the wrong side of it.

The demon’s laughing stops. He shrieks and let’s go of the little girl. The glowing goes away. The demon slumps. His eyes are wide open and the black tears trickle slowly off of his face. He’s dead.

I look at the Cambion.

“You killed it?

“I killed him,” she corrects.

“Without a Deadgun?”

This is a lot for me to take in. We’ve never found a way to completely kill a demon without a Deadgun. Not like this, anyway. 

“No. He stays here,” she says. “This fucker is dead.”

Kitsune

“I’m Kitsune,” I say. I extend my hand.

“Shannon Iggans,” the Native American woman says.  She gives me a firm handshake.

“Shenanigans? What? Isn’t that like a human word for… mischief or something?”

That’s weird. Who name’s their kid that?

“No,” she says with a smile. “It’s not real. The DEC told me not to let anyone know my real one.”

“What’s the real one?” I ask, as I lean down to pick up the little human girl.

Shannon frowns.

“I don’t want to say,” she says.

I nod. Better just to let it go.

            “We should get this girl to a human hospital as soon as possible. Do you happen to have a Fear Recovery Unit?” I ask.

            “Yeah,” Iggans says. “It’s a long walk. Hope you don’t mind.”

            I can’t go with her. Humans hate me. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Iggans to be this accepting.

            “I should really stay here. Most humans don’t… like me.”

            Iggans frowns. Then she walks over and takes the girl from me.

            “Alright. I know how you feel. The rest of humanity is not very accepting of Navajo like me,” she says. Then she turns to leave.

            Hmm. There’s something I’ve been thinking about. I want to join the DEC. Maybe if I joined, they wouldn’t hate me. Maybe I could even live with them, instead of in this super clean, isolated sector.

            And then one day… maybe they could send me home.

            “Wait!” I yell after her. “You don’t happen to be looking for any jobs, are you? Or at least, is the DEC?”

            I almost immediately feel like an ass. Why would they hire someone they thought was demon?

            But Iggans cocks her head to one side.

            “As you can imagine, that doesn’t sound like the greatest idea. I happen to work alongside some of the more racist humans,” she says thoughtfully. “But… you seem to be good at… killing your own kind.”

            I shake my head.

            “They aren’t my kind. I’m as much human as I am daimonian.”

            Iggans smiles.

            “Then,” she says, “You have yourself a job. I’ll call if I need you.”

            And then she takes off at a breakneck pace.

           

Jack

            Rumor has it that a little girl was stolen from one of the human districts a couple hours ago. Thanks to some lady with a ridiculous name, the girl is in an FRU.

            Weird shit like this happen all the time. The demons have really over taken the world. Now, they pretty much run rampant. And the Snakes who persecute us every day stand by and watch.

            Now that that lady mentioned it, I sort of do want to join the DEC. I want take our world back.

            Mom would be pissed if I did that, though. She works hard to help keep me out of harms way. I feel like enrolling for the most dangerous job on the planet might be a bad way to honor that.

            But still…

Jack-el

Part One

By Robin

FYI: This is an alien reboot of 'Jack Jumped Over the Candlestick'

 JACK-el

 An excerpt from a Tolayi’s journal…

Jack-el was always a wanderer.

That is, until we were enslaved. The Inlivi, a monstrous race that live off of the fear of our species, the Tolayla, captured our entire race and forced us into labor.

 He was a kind person, but not a very a sociable one. He’d wander the desert, coming back at sunset with deer and rabbits to eat.

He was a tall, middle-aged Tolayli, with huge meaty arms that could cut tree down with one swing of an axe.

His rough exoskeleton was covered in deep scars, burned white by the sun. His mandibles were sharp, glistening.

Jack-el was always trying to find a way to escape the Inlivi’s camps. Perhaps that was why he was so covered in scars.

No escaped for a long time. But then, one day, Jack-el jumped the Candle Stick.

The Candle Stick was the nickname for the gargantuan smoke stack that stood in the middle of the factory we were forced to work in.

The only way out would be to somehow climb the Candle Stick and get across to the other side of it, then slide down.

Unfortunately, freedom also meant starving out in the desert.

But Jack-el was a strong Tolayli. One day he fought past the huge guards and climbed his way to the top of the Candle Stick.

More guards had swarmed around the base of the smoke stack. They jeered at him and threw barbed chains at him. The chains wrapped around him and cut him.

But he did not fall or come down. He did an amazing thing. He began to pull the huge Inlivi up to him.

When they were very near the top he let them go and they tumbled down on their comrades.

The old Tolayli raised his hand in farewell, then turned and jumped.

No one saw what happened to him. Some say he never got to the other side. Others said he made it out, but died in the stormy sands.

Others, though, think he’s out there, waiting for the right moment to break us all free.

The Beginning

Chapter One

My name is Jack-el. My story is not a short one, and it isn’t all that happy either.

My only hope is that you understand.

When I was young, the race of the Tolayla was a free one. Now the Tolayli’s are governed by a… superior race.

The Invili greatly outnumber us. They are much larger and, though I regret to say it, smarter.

Sometimes, I pity them. They seem so consumed and eaten up by darkness that they cannot stand to face the light.

Other times, I hate them. They are the creatures that took my family from me. They killed my friends. They tore my village to shreds. They burn-

Fire. Ash. Screams. The flames close in around my families hut. I feel arms around me, but they shake so badly-

-What… I must have… oh! I passed out. Yes… ever since the destruction of Ytriliya, my village, I seem to pass out. I feel almost as if… I don’t know how to explain it.

Anyway, after the Invili took over our nation, they enslaved us in massive factories.

And massive they were. The factories towered above the horizon, belching smoke and fumes, and destroying the surrounding land. In short, what once was a beautiful desert speckled with small villages became a gray, lifeless wasteland, filled with the ghosts of so many loved ones.

The scars that cover my body still burn with fire, but a fire that is different from pain.

It’s sadness. Sadness and anger.  

I still remember, in vivid detail, the day I received the huge, white rents in my exoskeleton.

One of the old women had collapsed one the ground. A hulking guard leered over her frail body. He began to lash her with a whip. Over and over he did this.

The old woman never even flinched.

The Invili got angry. He pulled a knife from out of his belt.

He swung the knife down towards her thin exoskeleton.

He would have killed her if not for me.

I bit him.

Let me explain. For those of you are not of the Tolayla race or know nothing about them, a Tolayla’s bite is highly poisonous. One bite can kill a person in less than 30 seconds.

If you didn’t know that much, you probably know nothing.

Tolayli like me are around five feet tall. Some people say that we are descendents of insects. We have exoskeletons and sharp, mandibles. We do have wings, but they are much too small to lift us off of the ground.

Unfortunately, I have been busy lately, so I must complete this journal at a later date. Farewell

 

   

OZ

Part One

By Robin

Aegil

The night was silent and still. The stars glistened.

             A meta-wolf howled, breaking the infinite quiet.

            “Aegil. Be Silent,” the Woman said.

            Aegil sat back on his shiny brass haunches, a look of humility etched on his bloodstained muzzle. He hated when the woman Silenced him. He dreamed of a time when he and his brothers hunted in the Emerald city, where their gears turned freely, and they were not controlled by the Woman.

            Meta-wolves were meant to be free, Aegil thought. When the Magictrician created us, we weren’t confined to our wiring. Now, our vocal processors have become rusted, all thanks to the Woman.

            The Woman smiled and clicked Her green-painted nails on the table.

            “That’s better. Tell your brothers to stay Silent, too. If one of them screeches again, the gears in one of your legs will be stripped out,” She said.

            Aegil rose, but he kept his visual scanners on the Her.

            I will tear out your throat, Witch, before you will even touch my leg. 

            He turned and left the eerie white room. He slipped down stairwell and into the Meta-wolf living quarters.

Ligaer raised her silver head.

What happened? You are angry. Her thoughts echoed in his wiring.

Aegil laid down upon the ground. I hate her. The Woman does not respect our kind. She even threatened to strip the gears of my leg.

Ligaer growled mechanically. One day, we will break free of this prison. And you will again become the Alpha of the Meta-wolves.

Aegil nodded, then laid his head down and turned off his processors.           

Dorothy

           

Dorothy looked warily around the military bunker. The other baldheaded women gave her cold stares. A military Gorilla pushed past her. She recognized it as an older model. Maybe made in the year 2634.

She shifted her duffel bag onto her shoulder. The commander had informed her that her bunk was number 170-B. It was all the way at the back.

“Hi,” she said. She walked quickly to her bunk, and stuffed her bag underneath.

She felt the top of her head. Her long brown hair had been shaved only two days ago. It still felt a little weird to the touch. Prickly. The military barber wasn’t very careful. She had a lot of women’s heads to shave.

She flopped down on her bunk. She closed her eyes, and thought about home.

Kansas. She’d lived there all her life with her Aunt Em. When Em had died in the bombs and she lost her own arm, Dorothy decided to join the military.

Aunt Em had been in the military. She fought until she got too old, then moved to Kansas.

“Hey!”

Dorothy’s eyes snapped open. A young girl, probably a teen, was hanging her head down from the top bunk.

“What? Who are you?” Dorothy flustered.

“My name’s Toto. Your new, huh.”

Dorothy nodded.

Toto flipped acrobatically to the floor. Dorothy did a double take. Toto’s legs were mechanical. They whirred and hissed as she wandered in a circle.

She babbled cheerily and endlessly.

“I joined a month ago. I don’t really like the haircuts. The commander lady makes me mad. Where are you from? I’m from New York!”

Dorothy narrowed her eyes.

“Are you trying to humiliate me or something?”

Toto stopped spinning and frowned.

“No,” she said. “Why would I do that?”

“Attention. Popularity,” Dorothy said. “Girls in Kansas used to do this to me all the time.”

Toto smiled.

“Popularity? Nah. These girls don’t like me at all. I don’t care about them. I’m trying to be nice.”

Dorothy flashed an apologetic look. 

Toto laughed.

“You keep looking at my legs. I lost them from one of the training excerises,” she said.

“Oh. Are the training courses that bad?” Dorothy asked worriedly.

“Some people say they’re worse than actual battles.”

Dorothy frowned.

“Wouldn’t it be smarter to just keep us alive so we can fight?”

Toto flipped up onto her bunk, her shiny black hair flashing.

“I think you’re right. I just wish someone had come up with that sooner,” she said. “I used to be so fast—“

And then her voice faltered and she stayed silent.

Dorothy thought Toto was a little ditsy, but she trusted her. She seemed nice. Even the fact that she had made an attempt to befriend Dorothy just seemed sort of accommodating.

Dorothy didn’t sleep too well.

Damn. Why did I do this? What if I end up like Toto?

Her thoughts went in circles in side her head. Eventually, though, she drifted to sleep.

Cold water rushed over Dorothy’s head. 

“Wake up, lame-ass,” said a harsh voice next to my ear. 

Dorothy opened one eye. A huge woman was glaring at me from the side of the bed, holding a dripping water bucket in her hands.

Dorothy shuffled out of bed. The lady was really intimidating. She was almost seven feet tall and three across.

She had a snake tattoo that seemed to wind its way around her scarred features.

“Let’s go. We aren’t here to sleep. We’re here to kill!” she said, slamming her hands down on the bunk for effect.

Wow. Dorothy thought. This lady really needs to rethink what it means to be in the army.

The woman smiled coldly.

“No, I’d say I understand perfectly.”

Dorothy stopped short.

Did she just read my mind?

“Yeah, I did. Got these sensors in my mind, see? An’ that’s how I do it. Now let’s get going.”

Nikki

The Woman clicked Her boots together.

            Nikki could feel it in his gears. He called to his tribe.

            Friends. The Woman calls to us.

            The other Gorillas revved up their jetpacks. Smoke poured from exhaust pipes and gears churned and whizzed as the Gorillas lifted up into the air.

            Only Atikil stayed on the ground with Nikki. Atikil frowned and beat his chest irritably, making a horrible grating sound.

            You talk as if only you can here her call. You talk as if you are her pet! We are all equal in this tribe. You are no better than I am, Atikil whispered in his processors. His voice was heavily coated in venom and static.

            Atikil, I am the Prime Defect. It is my Duty to make sure that the tribe stays together, Nikki whispered back.

            Atikil flashed one last venomous look.

            You will not be Prime for much longer.

            He launched himself off of the Cliffside and soared off to the rest of the tribe.

            Nikki started up his jetpack and took to the sky, but he made an effort to stay far behind the tribe.

            He quietly pondered the most recent events in his tribe’s history. They had all started out as military Gorillas, war machines programmed for nothing but the spilling of blood. They had all lived and trained on Earth.

            But they were kidnapped, stolen away in the middle of the night, by the Woman.

            Oh, the Woman. She was horrible. She’d enslaved them. Taken away their ability to speak out loud. Confined them to they’re own thoughts.

            She had formed them together. They were the Defects.

The Woman had convinced most of the tribe that they were in good hands, but not Nikki. He did not believe Her lies.

Atikil had been difficult. He was the only Gorilla who was happy to be with the Woman. He was quite the kiss-up when he was around Her.

            Nikki knew his place, though. The Woman had great power. Some say she was the best Magictrician alive, melding Magic and Machine to create very powerful creatures and technologies.

            She had the Power to enslave any creature created with Machine. Nikki was shocked to find that his huge, monkey-like body had been imbued with Magic. Magic of the Darkest, Evilest kind.

            Only one of the Defects had escaped. He’d gotten through Her security system by removing his heart circuit.  He was a lumber gorilla not combat grade, which made him smaller and less bulky than the rest of the defects.

            They didn’t know where he was anymore. He’d seemed to just disappear.

Demons 

Part One

By Robin

Jack

I never realized how beautiful nature was until math class today. Mr. Donnelly has been explaining the Pythagorean Theorem for an hour too long.

I can feel the jitters start, in my leg. They wind their way up to my elbow. Stupid ADHD. I tap my foot to get the tingles out.

I try to preoccupy myself with other things. I find ways to write cuss words on my calculator. I draw on my arm. I tap my foot some more.

I’m so bored. Time to liven things up. I raise my hand.

Mr. Donnelly peers down at me.

“Yes, Jack? What do you need?”

Perfect.

“Um, actually, I need to call my mom.”

I can see annoyance flash past his face. Just a little, and then it’s gone.

“Why? Is it important enough to interrupt my class?” he asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” I say. “I just wanted to tell her I wouldn’t be home until next week, because Mr. Donnelly has a fetish for the Pythagorean Theorem.”

The rest of the class giggles.

His face turns bright, bright red. Sort of like a tomato that’s right about to pop. Not that tomatoes pop, but if they did they’d look like this.

“Jack,” Mr. Donnelly warns. “I could have you suspended.”

I put a fake shocked expression on my face.

“No, please, don’t give me a whole bunch of days out of school!”

He just grimaces and starts writing on a little pink slip of paper. Then he stands, smoothes his shirt and resumes his lecture.

Well, Mom won’t be happy. She hates when I get suspended. Then she has to take care of me on days she shouldn’t have to.

The rest of class is equally as boring as the first part. I’m out the door before the bell rings. I can hear Mr. Donnelly shouting at me to come back. I raise a middle finger into the air. Heck, why not? I’m already suspended.

The bus ride home is worse than math class. Our school is really low on money, so all the kids on the school are piled onto two buses.

It takes almost an hour for me to get home.

The apartment might just be the shittiest one in San Francisco. You have to climb the fire escape to even get in the building.

Some douche is about to set off some smoke flares in the alleyway. I say hi. He gives me a suspicious look. I think his name’s Quivery or something like that. He hangs around the neighborhood a lot.

“Mom!” I yell as soon as I slam the door behind me. “Got another suspension, so I’ll be home getting on your nerves for the next week.”

She walks out of the kitchen.

“Shit. What did you do to Mr. Donnelly this time?”

“I told him he had a math fetish. It’s true.”

She puts her face in her hand. I feel one of those guilt butterfly thingies.

“Why do you do these things, Jack? I can’t take care of you and go to work and—“

“You don’t need to take care of me, Mom. I’m 14. I think I can handle making ramen noodles without your help.”

“Just go to your room,” she says tiredly.

“You mean my cupboard? I feel like freaking Harry Potter,” I say, but then I go and sit on my bed.

I hate when my mom is sad because of me. I can’t help being a smartass. It just comes out.

I plop my head down on the pillow and sulk. My mom can be a real bitch sometimes. Ever since dad left, she’s been really… touchy.I was born long after the country was taken over. He went and helped the other side.What other side? What do you mean—oh. You don’t actually know about all the stuff that happened. Man are you in for a ride. 

Shannon Iggans

If you’re reading this, you have a lot to learn. There are things in this world that go beyond human comprehension. I don’t even understand most of it.

The supernatural is seemingly not so supernatural. A portal was opened in way back in 2045. One of those weird voodoo things. Like with the candles and sack dolls.

Anyway, demons and weird creatures and monsters just tumbled out into everyday life. For 20 years, they didn’t really do anything. Then, in only a couple of hours, they sort of tore the city apart.

I was a secret service agent. I realized the need for people who could help fight back against the demons that had quickly taken over the country. Now I work for the DEC, the Demon Eradication Corporation.

At the moment, I’m after a demon, a Fear specialist by the name of Quivor. He’s been stirring up the public lately. Shooting off smoke flares and stuff. This is what the government has come to, I guess. I’ve been tailing him for about a week.

He pretty much looks like every other Fear demon. Tall, thick, and covered in weird, oozing sores.

Right now he’s scuttling around in an alleyway, getting ready to set off some more smoke flares. He glances around his. He knows I’m tailing him. He just doesn’t know I’m standing on the roof above him.

It’s too hot out here. I throw my duster off of the roof and it spirals and twists in the air and then morphs into a crow and flies off, back to HQ.

The animals are a piece of technology the DEC picked up from the demons. They act as sort of a guardian. If we get into trouble we can’t manage, we can just summon the animal and it’ll help out. Mine’s a crow. A sacred Indian totem.

I charge up my Hellgun. One pop in the chest from this baby and he’s back to the Pit.

I take a couple steps back from the edge of the roof. Then I take two quick strides forward and throw myself off the building.

Adrenaline.

             Adrenaline.

                         ADRENALINE!

But then I have to let the parachute out. Quivor’s noticed me by now. I hit the ground firing. He turns, gives me a shocked look, then darts onto the fire escape of the apartment next to him. His starts climbing up the side. He reminds me of a spider. I hate spiders.

I start running up the stairs. I let loose a round of Hell slugs. They all seem to bounce off the stairs; none of them even make it close to hitting him.

I pull my tomahawk from my belt. They’ve been dipped in Holy water, so they send the demons back. I hurl it at him and it lodges itself in the fire escape. Fortunately, its been programmed to return to my hand. It wiggles a couple times and then zooms back to my hand.

He reaches the top and looks wildly around for an escape route. He’s in mid-jump when I tackle him through a window. Glass goes everywhere. He hits me in the stomach, pokes me in the eyes.

I can’t see! I can’t see!

WZZZ! WZZZ! I can hear the Hell slugs hit Quivor. He claws me once more and then there’s a flash and he’s gone.

A teenage boy, probably 15, maybe a little younger, is standing in front of me. He’s holding a smoking Hellgun.

“Back to the Pit, bitch,” he says.

          Jack

“Back to the Pit, bitch.”

I felt so awesome when I said that.

An older woman with a hair that looks like an old Indian headdress just crashed into my window. Looks like Last of the Mohicans wasn’t really the last one.

“Thanks,” she says. Her voice is all scratchy and her left eye is black. “You got some skill.”

“Yeah, cause it’s that hard to shoot a Fear demon from three feet away,” I say. Wow, I shouldn’t have said that. Just can’t help it.

“Smartass.”

My mom comes bursting into the room.

“What the hell just happened?” she shrieks. “Who are you?”

“I’m from the SFDEC,” the lady says. “Sorry about the window. I can pay for that…”

“Your damn right you can pay for it? Did you just jump in here for kicks?”

My mom is clueless.

“Didn’t you hear her?” I ask. “She said she’s DEC. She was chasing that Quiverly Fear demon guy. They jumped through the window and he was about to kill her so I got the gun and shot him.”

“You shot someone? Oh my God!” Mom yells.

The DEC lady steps in.

“Ma’am, it was a demon, not a human. He was going to kill me and your son helped me. You should be proud.”

I like this lady. She’s actually kinda cool.

Mom just gives one more horrified look and leaves the room.

“Listen kid,” the lady says. “You ever need help, or even a job, call this number.”

She hands me a little card.

“Cool. Thanks,” I say.

She gives me some cash.

“This is for your mom.”

Then she leaps out the window.

That was awesome!