by D. M. Guay
Eo-owch. My head throbbed. My muscles burned. Every bit of me was riddled with sharp, shooting pain. Boy, that octopus was a jerk. Why didn't he chew me up first and put me out of my misery? He had to be an asshole and eat me alive, whole, Sarlacc-pit style? At least Chef went quick, in a snap. Literally. Man. Poor Chef. No one deserved to die like that. Or like this.
Something jabbed me in the ribs. Welp, here we go. I was about to be broken down into bits like a fast-food burger, absorbed into the intestinal tract of hell, and pooped out like so much nothing. The irony.
Ow! The rib-jabbing continued. Seriously, ouch.
I opened my eyes. Kevin's giant roach face lingered above me.
“He ate you, too?” I asked.
“See? I told you we could summon Ronnie James Dio if we got those rocks wired up right. Did you see him? In that rainbow? I guess he wasn't kidding about a 'Rainbow in the Dark' was he? Man, he chopped up octopus tentacles like he was a rock n roll Ginsu knife.”
Kevin was awfully cheery for having been eaten by a hell octopus.
“Get up, kid. We got work to do.” Kevin kicked me in the ribs. Again.
“Ow!” Dude. What was the rush? I mean, an octopus ate us. We were toast. What more was there to do?
I rolled to the side and came face to face with four sad white eyes. Bubby. His pincers opened up, revealing a circular razor mouth curled down into the equivalent of a frown. He whimpered in pain. “Hey, Bubby. I'm sorry you got eaten, too. I tried, dude.”
Blurple. Blup. Ppppsssslurp. Blurple. Blup. Pppssssslurp. Blurple. Blup. Ppppsssslurp. Blurple. Blup. Pppssssslurp.
Ugh. I hoped this Sarlacc pit business didn't last a thousand years because that noise was unbearably creepy. Did I really need to be reminded that I was being actively digested? That was a whole other level of jacked up.
I sat up. Slowly. Very slowly, because it felt like someone was scrambling my brain with a stick. “Holy crap!” I scooted back in terror. Ee-ouch. Again.
Octopus guy's cold, glassy black eyes stared me down, less than ten feet away. It took me a second to register that the head around them was mostly gone. The eyes were part of a big raw chunk of meat that appeared to be...melting?
Blurple. Blup. Ppppsssslurp. Blurple. Blup. Pppssssslurp.
Holy crap. I really was in an octopus' guts all right, but the octopus had been turned inside out like a gym sock. All the guts were on the outside. The entire store was at least a foot deep in steaming, bubbling purple and black ooze. Guts and suction cups and tentacles blurped and sizzled. It looked like the octopus had split open and started disintegrating. “Hell yeah, I'm alive!”
“Well, duh. Don't just sit there, kid. Give me a hand.” Kevin grabbed Bubby under his first row of arms and started to pull him across the floor.
I didn't know how long I was out, but it was long enough for someone to have cleared a path through the toppled shelving and scattered potato chip bags straight to the room with the green door where I'd taken that magic healing shower after Demon Caroline had flattened my face.
Bubby howled each time Kevin tugged. He was bleeding, oozing cool Kool-Aid blue blood that steamed when it hit the humid, warm air. (Apparently, the insides of hell octopi were boiling hot and could really dial up the thermostat.) Kevin was still gigantic by roach standards, but I could see the chocolate doughnuts were wearing off. He'd shrunk down to about half his biggest size already. Kevin was still a big boy, but Bubby was twice as long.
Kevin dragged the limp and badly injured Bubby in short bursts, struggling and panting. “Help me, kid. I can't move this fatass all by myself.”
I got up, very very slowly because I felt like an eighty-year-old man who'd just joined a CrossFit gym and did a dozen back-to-back workouts on his first day. While getting hit in the head with mallets. Everything hurt. Bad. I grabbed onto Bubby's middle and lugged. Next thing I knew, DeeDee was across from me, lifting Bubby's other side.
“You're finally awake. My hero!” She winked. At me?
I blushed. Hero? She didn't mean me, did she?
DeeDee was covered head to toe in slime, but still drop-dead gorgeous. I did a quick assessment. I was coated in slime, too. So. Gross. But it could have been much worse. We were beaten up, bruised and slimy, but we were okay. We were alive.
The store didn't fare as well. Everywhere I looked there were steaming guts, holes in the floor from spider stomps and barbed tentacles. The place was completely wrecked. I could see twinkling stars and night sky in the chunks missing from the roof. The wall between the store and the employee lounge was nothing but crumbled concrete block. The storefront was mostly shattered glass where windows and doors were supposed to be. The face of the beer cave had been ripped off, leaving only the backside of a steel cooler exposed, filled with toppled cases and broken bottles. We were slip-sliding in the guts of a giant rotten octopus. My brain couldn't process this—and frankly, didn't want to. Because, come on, WTF?
We pulled Bubby to the green door, and Kevin said, “I'll take it from here.”
As soon as Kevin and Bubby disappeared into the bathroom, I asked DeeDee what had happened. The last thing I remembered, I was toast. Okay, the avocado on an octopus' toast. Death was certain.
All she said was, “We did it, Lloyd. It's over. We won.”
I heard the water flip on in the magic shower, and Kevin cursing as he tried to stuff a two-story-tall centipede into a space meant for a human. “DeeDee, is there a control panel for this thing? We need it to go up a size or two!”
“On the wall by the towel heater,” she yelled through the door.
“Yeah. Yeah. I see it,” Kevin said.
“How did we win?”
“I'm not sure exactly. I'm pretty sure it was Chef. Plus, Bubby managed to get out of the gate on his own, so that helped. He sure does love the rock.”
“What rock?”
“You know, Dwayne Johnson. The Rock.”
Huh. Henrietta's words bounced around in my head. Desperate love will breach the gate. Tristan, check. In darkness, three rocks might save you. Three rocks. Did Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson count? Or was it the three rocks on the stereo? Or did Ronnie James Dio really swoop down out of a rainbow and kick octopus ass like Kevin said? Which rocks? Man. Oracles. If they expected to be taken seriously, they needed to issue easier-to-follow, step-by-step instructions. They were too vague.
I was about to ask if DeeDee had seen Dio, too, when she hugged me, squeezing me tight for a good long time. Kevin, unaware that we were sharing a tender moment and that he should shut up already, was still yelling through the door at us, making conversation.
“Make a wish, kids, because we're definitely getting a fat bonus for this! I want a big ole TV, and I'm not letting my dick hole roommates anywhere near it,” he said. “I'm done watching those awful garage band videos my roommate posts online.”
“Okay, Kevin,” DeeDee said. “We get it.”
Spell broken. She let go of me. Okay, more like peeled herself off of me because we were both coated in guts, and guts were really sticky.
“What does he mean 'make a wish'?” I asked.
“He's talking about hazard pay, but don't worry about it,” DeeDee said. “Faust is pretty tuned in to what we all truly desire. We don't have to wish. Faust is like the ultimate Santa. He always shows up with the perfect gift.”
“Bubby, is he—?”
“He'll be fine. I think.” She sounded unsure. “Anyway, when he's finished, we'll get you in the shower. You look pretty beat up. And, well, slimy. Either way, we can't go out in public like this. Biohazard and all. We don't want to give the containment guys any excuse to come down here. Trust me. They're super creepy.”
Containment? Biohazard? Creepy? I suddenly felt more grossed out, which was saying something when you were already coated head to toe with the innards of hell beasts.
DeeDee picked a chunk of octopus intestine out of my hair and looked up at me. Her tough eyes went soft like she was abou
t to say something heartfelt and epic. “Lloyd...”
So of course, that's when Morty strutted through the opening that was once the front door, zipped up his pants, and rolled right on up to us. “Didn't need these after all.” He threw a blister pack of Hammer All Night boner pills at me. “I still got it. Sorry I broke the rules and all, but you gotta strike while the iron is hard.”
He pointed at his penis, waiting for us to get the joke. Ahem. Yeah, we got it bub. Not in the mood. We were in the middle of some heartfelt relationship stuff. Read the room.
“It's all right, Morty. I'll let it slide this time.” DeeDee's vulnerable face was gone. She was cool, all business. “Thanks for the assist, by the way. I didn't know you were such a softy.”
“Zip it, hot stuff. I've got a reputation.” His eyes darted around like a dude in a foil hat looking for surveillance cameras. His voice went low. “I had to step in. Did you see that fish chick? I am not gonna dip this majestic pecker into one of those for the rest of eternity. No way. I prefer the supple bodies of human ladies. They appreciate the goods, ya feel me? Oh shit. Wait a minute. What's that stuff you've got all over you?”
He glanced at the slime on our clothes, then around at the bubbling guts, as if noticing the eviscerated octopus for the first time. “How'd a bunch of scrawny rejects like you pull this off?”
Kevin stepped out of the magic bathroom. He'd shrunk again. He was a little taller than me now. “Remember that purple pumpkin? I told you not to eat it. You eat it, then it eats you.”
“Wait. That little thing did this?”
We all looked around. Okay, yeah. I didn't know about these guys, but if a dusty purple gourd could do this, I was never eating any type of squash or pumpkin ever again. I was eighty-sixing all cucurbits.
“Okay, that's messed up. You need to label your crap. I was about to eat that thing! Guess I owe you one, Kev.” Morty's nose crinkled up in disgust. He scanned the toppled racks, the busted out beer coolers, the guts, the holes in the ceiling. “Good luck cleaning this up. Looks like I better find another gate.”
“You do not need another gate, demon,” said a low, forceful voice with a vaguely Caribbean accent. “You stay where you belong, or you pay the price.”
Pawnshop Doc was on his knees in the beer cave, eyeing Morty suspiciously. His incredibly buff body loomed over an unconscious Tristan. Tristan had symbols drawn all over him with colored sand. It didn't look like the kind of stuff that could be dry-cleaned out of ridiculously complicated cardigan smoking jackets. (Haha. Take that, hipster!) A handful of black pillar candles were set up around him, burning hot and bright, quickly melting down to stubs. “Now go home hellspawn,” Doc snipped. “I must concentrate.”
Doc held his hands over Tristan and began chanting. A translucent black fog kicked up around his body.
What the? Wait. Scratch that. Not gonna ask. Didn't want to know.
“Fine.” Morty shrugged. “Do me a solid, would ya? Make me a gate out of here?”
Doc glared at Morty and snapped his fingers. Morty stepped over an unconscious Tristan, past a pile of toppled, guts-coated Red Stripe ponies, and right through a Morty-sized blue gate that zipped up tight behind him.
“Oh. Before I forget. Check this out.” DeeDee pulled something small and shiny out of her pocket.
It looked like one of those fancy antique pins classy rich ladies wore back when photos only came in black and white. It was a silver spider, clustered in gemstones. It had eight ice-blue jewels for eyes, and its legs were studded with sparkling black diamonds. “Our little friend looks much prettier like this, doesn't he?”
“Little friend?”
“Who would have thought that horrible creature could turn into something so beautiful?”
It took a minute for her meaning to sink in. “That's the spider? The spider? But, how?”
“Now we know why we aren't supposed to eat the doughnuts.” She winked.
“The doughnuts?” I couldn't even straighten out the thoughts enough to make a sentence.
“I said it before, and I'll say it again,” DeeDee said. “The things you accomplish around here with food are absolutely amazing.”
Yep. You heard that right. She was saying the glazed doughnuts with the pink frosting and sprinkles did this to the spider. The yellow vortex. The crunching. Okay, then. It's official. I was never eating a doughnut—any doughnut—ever again. Or any suspect gourds or pumpkins. But kudos to Henrietta. True defeat was sweet indeed.
DeeDee turned to Doc. “He's all yours. Catch.”
She threw the spider pin through the air, and Doc caught it in one hand without looking up, without so much as a flinch, like he was a movie wizard. “Do not be so careless, woman. Cages are easy to escape. The creature is not vanquished, only trapped.”
This guy had a way with big words, didn't he?
“You must manage your creatures, or we all pay.” He looked at me, then at DeeDee. “Your spurned lover will survive. If he awakens in a familiar bed, he will never know the evening's true events, so make haste, woman.”
Doc stood up. The black fog around him dissipated into nothing. The candles went out. Doc stepped over Tristan and walked right through the busted-out front door without another word, gemstone-encrusted spider in pocket.
That was the moment my survival mode snapped off, and my muddled thoughts became clear. Holy shit. We had used a cursed doughnut to trap a gigantic hell spider in a piece of magical jewelry. If we hadn't, it would have eaten us and destroyed the entire world. I couldn't deny it any longer. Magic was real. Hell was real. (And filled with spiders. Of course. It's hell, right?) Demons. Monsters. All of it was real.
I couldn't handle it. Being safe at home, in my room, playing Xbox, eating my Mom's home-cooked food. Free laundry and groceries. That I could handle. Battling hellspawn with cursed magical doughnuts? Nope. I'm outta here. I didn't care about the debt. No amount of money was worth this. I'd flip burgers for minimum wage forever if I had to. I'd let the creeps at Bloods R Us drain me dry. But this? I couldn't. I quit. I couldn't ever look at this store again. Although it was so destroyed I might never have to.
“My favorite employees have clearly had an eventful night.”
I recognized his posh voice immediately. Asmodius Faust, proprietor of the 24/7 Demon Mart, and a devil, not the devil, according to DeeDee, stepped through the jagged glass remains of the front door. He was dressed to the nines, tailored designer suit and polished designer shoes, head to toe in black, naturally. He glided over to us, disinterested in the pulsing hot guts around us.
“You have proven your worth a hundredfold. I was right about you, young Mr. Wallace.” He clapped me on the shoulder, unfazed by my slimy coating. “A pure heart, through and through. I knew you would achieve great things if given the chance. You and Ms. DeeDee are a formidable pairing. Finally, I have assembled the optimal team.”
Did he say optimal team? We weren't the Avengers, dude. This team member was done. Finito. I was vamoose, out of here. I was not the right guy for this job. Being on the dream team was a nightmare.
Faust didn't notice my newfound resolve, because all of his attention was on DeeDee. “I heard about your scorned lover. How unfortunate,” he said.
Gah. I wished everyone would stop referring to Tristan as a lover. I didn't need the visual. And he was such a jerk!
“But we both know love is a tricky, dangerous business,” Faust said. “As they say, the sight of lovers feedeth those in love.”
“Or feedeth Lagopex the Devourer, if they aren't careful,” DeeDee said. “I'm sorry, sir. I try to keep my personal life separate from the store.”
Faust tenderly lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. “It is not your fault. Your beauty starts at the skin but goes deep down to bone and soul. Luring fools to love is your burden. You're a siren. Too beautiful a song and too bright a light to pass by. You'll leave many hearts in pieces on the rocks before true love moves you.”
She blushed.
Holy shit, this dude was smooth!
He sunk his hand into his suit jacket and pulled out two thick red envelopes. “Now. Let's take care of business, shall we?” He handed one to me, and one to DeeDee. “A small token of my gratitude for the ingenuity and gallantry you displayed this evening. The world is indebted to you. The city slept soundly and safely. The sun will rise again this morning because of you. Now, I must speak with Kevin.”
Kevin was looming over Tristan, scratching his head. Kevin had shrunk even more. He was about half my height now. Faust glided over to him, and I swear I saw him pull a small television, about the size of a computer monitor, out of the flat fold of his tailored blazer. Kevin danced a jig when he saw it. “Yes! Can you put it in my room for me? I'm gonna be too small to handle it. Plus, I don't want my roommates to see it. You know how they are.”
“Certainly. I anticipated that request.” Faust snapped his fingers and a man-sized green vortex opened up. He stepped through it, then he and the vortex disappeared.
Of course, it was a vortex. And of course, he used it like a doorway. What did it say about me that I didn't even flinch this time? It had become normal. I ran my fingers across the envelope Faust had given me. It was heavy and thick, the paper blood red and expensive, smooth like velvet. It was sealed with wax, the symbol on Faust's ring pressed into it. I was about to open it when a muffled groaning sound came from nearby.
Uuuuuuhhhhhh. Uuuuuuuhhhhhh.
“What's that?” I immediately flipped into panic mode. I shoved the envelope deep in my pocket. No time now. This wasn't over.
“I don't know,” DeeDee whispered. She pulled that golden knife out of her boot, and yeah, it still had streaks of spider blood all over it. “Stay close.”
Uuuuhh. Uuuuuuuhhh. Uuuuuuhh. Uuuuhh.
We tiptoed around until we pinpointed the noise. It was coming from under a pile of dissolving octopus eyes in the middle of the store.
“Step back.”
My heart jumped as Faust materialized in front of us, fresh out of the vortex, with a cane in his hand. He moved entrails and eyeballs aside until we could see what was moaning underneath.
