Demon Dance

by Brian Freyermuth

  “Can’t you fight it, like you did at the troll?”

  I smirked. “If I was at full health and had the element of surprise, maybe. But I’m about an inch away from passing out.”

  “OK, look,” the man suddenly said. He stood by Beth, his arms crossed over his chest and his face red. “This is crazy. Did you just say demons?”

  I glanced over at him. “What’s your name?”

  The question took him aback. “Anthony Tribiani the Third.”

  “Look, Anthony Tribiani the Third, I don’t have time to explain this to you. All you need to know is that thing out there wants your sister dead, and I’m here to stop it.”

  “Beth, you honestly don’t believe‒”

  “Tony, could you please go check on Amanda?” Beth told him.

  “But‒”

  Her voice went cold. “Tony, please.”

  Her brother glared at me and stomped from the room, still sputtering. He slammed the door, shaking it on its frame.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Beth said. “He doesn’t handle stress very well.”

  I smiled. “It’s OK. I’ve seen his type before. He likes order and reality, and my life doesn’t mesh well with that.” Although it did four days ago, I thought with a touch of bitterness.

  “So what do we do about this demon, Mr. St. James?” Beth asked.

  “First we keep watching. I want to know what Shabriri is going to do next before I make any plans. It’s always best to counter an attack than to be caught with your metaphysical pants around your ankles.” I smiled at her. “So what changed your mind? You seemed skeptical when we talked back at the shelter.”

  “Having your life burned down will do that,” she said as she stood. She nervously straightened her dress. “Especially having it burn down in the middle of a thunderstorm. All those people…” She looked at me with pleading eyes. “Did you see any survivors?”

  “I saw a large crowd. If you got out, maybe they did as well.”

  She nodded, but I could tell she had a hard time believing it. “Adam got me out. I don’t how he saw the smoke, but he rushed into the back and hurried both of us out the door. I’m not sure what I’d do without him.”

  Good for Adam. I guess he took my warning to heart.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Beth added, “I want to go check on my daughter. Tony’s a dear, but he can’t handle children and Adam, well…he is so serious that Amanda likes to tease him. You’ll keep me informed?”

  “Of course,” I said. Beth walked across the small room without a further word and disappeared into the hallway. My smile slipped as another wave of pain flooded my ribs.

  Thelma, who had watched most of our interaction in silence, gently rubbed my shoulders. “Are you alright? I’m not a doctor, but you look worse than the rats my grandma used to find in the backyard after our cats got to them.”

  “That’s comforting,” I muttered. The pain began to ease. I wasn’t sure if it was the protein or the massage, but I wasn’t about to tell her to stop. “After we get out of here I promise I’ll take a midnight ride on the codeine train. But now I have to figure out how to get us out of here.”

  “Isn’t there a back door? Adam and Beth managed to get away before.”

  I shook my head with another wince. “That’s what’s been bugging me. This thing’s a tracker. It found me at your coffee shop yesterday and it found us today. I think it was waiting outside for me to show up. Take out the bigger threat and then the rest is gravy.”

  “So killing it is out of the question.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I sighed. “But fighting it is, even with a rocket launcher pointed at its head. We’ve been lucky so far.”

  I turned back to her. “Actually, I’ve been lucky so far. This is twice you’ve saved my life. I feel I owe you more than what you’re getting, being trapped in here with all of us.”

  “Hey, it beats doing the day’s receipts. Although I can do without the dying part.”

  Seeing how her dark skin contrasted with her bright yellow clothing, I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Why are you smiling?” Thelma asked.

  “I’ve never seen you so…casual before.”

  “You mean frumpy.”

  “No, I mean casual. It’s nice.”

  “Well, don’t get used to it,” she said with a soft smile. “Easter yellow is not my style.” She stopped massaging. “We'll get out of this, you know. I have faith in you.”

  “I wish I did,” I said with a sigh. “Everyone keeps looking at me, like I know what I'm doing. You know what I'm doing right now? Trying not to pee my pants.”

  “So you’re scared. Means you’re human. If you weren’t scared I’d be worried you were some sort of psychopath.”

  “Not me. I don’t think Ted Bundy ever wanted to curl up in a corner and weep,” I said, my mood lightening a bit.

  “Yeah, right,” she said. “You're way too stubborn to give up that easily.” She trailed off, and a frown crossed her face. “Is the demon supposed to be doing that?”

  I turned back and studied the monitor. The demon was standing right in front of the main door, in full view of the camera. He stood in a faux-crucifix pose for a moment before he began to spin in lazy circles.

  The demon’s movement was strangely graceful, almost beautiful even, as he began what looked like a delicate ballet in the rain. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I knew he wasn’t trying out for the Seattle Community Ballet. Especially when, despite the heavy downpour, flames began to lick at his feet.

  “So much for sitting in a corner,” I whispered. I turned back to Thelma. “Get everyone in here.”

  “What’s it doing?”

  “Digging our graves. Go!”

  She turned to leave, but a crazy thought suddenly struck me. “Thelma, wait.” She stopped. “Do you remember the grinder you used back at the coffee shop? Please tell me you have something in that bag of yours that can replicate it.”

  She quickly walked over to the small backpack and rummaged for a minute then brought out the same portable coffee bean grinder. “Never leave home without it,” she said and smiled, but it was thin now. Thin and scared.

  “Good.” I took as deep a breath as I could. “We’ll need some chalk and that grinder ready. Go get the others and bring them in.”

  “You have a plan?”

  I shrugged, which made me wince again. “I hope so. We only have one chance before our friend out there finishes his dance.”

  “What happens then?”

  “We find out how a building can burn down in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

  Her smile slipped and she hurried from the room.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Breaking a demon’s concentration is never a smart or easy task. One, a demon tends to be a little upset when someone disrupts his spell. Two, Shabriri, while not as powerful as the upper echelons of Hell, was no slouch either, as my broken ribs could attest. Getting him to break the spell was going to be on par with peeling someone’s hand away from a frozen swing set. You have to yank real hard and hope it’s not too painful.

  Of course then I had the problem of getting the demon inside a building filled with religious icons. As I’d told Beth, the religious exhibit wasn’t St. Paul’s Cathedral, but it was uncomfortable for him. There was no logical reason why the demon wouldn’t burn us all to ash without stepping through the front door.

  I also know that pride trumps logic every time.

  I stood just inside the front door and took a deep breath. The rain lessened, which meant a downpour instead of a biblical flood. I could see the demon through the glass and had a moment to realize just how beautiful the dance was. Take the best Russian ballet star and place him in a dirty street and he wouldn’t even be good enough to wax the demon’s shoes.

  Shabriri still wore the tan long-coat, but the green sweater hung in tatters. While still on two legs, he had shed his human mask, leaving a thin frame and spiky limbs that
brought to mind razor blades and jagged glass.

  He spun with arms outstretched while pirouetting in the storm. The rain moved around him like a lover, sliding and stretching around an invisible barrier a foot from his skin. It took me a moment to realize the rain had warped into the shape of wings. There was no sound but the steady drumming of water hitting the street. Just the demon’s dance and the rain.

  I had to tear my gaze away from him. Some demons were Fallen Angels, with beauty and horror mixed in their natures. I had never believed it until I watched Shabriri dance. The beauty of it could’ve sucked me in, leaving us all to burn.

  Part of me wondered what the hell I was doing. I needed to stop him. Me, with my broken ribs and bruises on top of bruises. Doubt wiggled its way into my brain as the demon spun in the rain. If there was any time where I felt like crawling into a corner it was now.

  I was also the only one who could do this.

  So I brought up little Amanda's face into my mind. Took a deep breath and pushed all doubt aside. It was time to act, but the question was what to do? I needed to break the demon's attention and lure him into the shop. So I did the only thing I could think of.

  Shabriri was still dancing when the five-pound metal cross hit him square in the forehead.

  The demon howled and released a wave of fire that broke the remaining front windows of the gallery as well as the pizza place next door. I managed to drop to the ground, but a lick of flames singed my backside. My ribs screamed, and for a moment I could do nothing but gasp as the pain ricocheted back and forth from my brain to my feet. Car alarms shattered the silence.

  Not exactly what I had expected, but it would do. I slowly stood up in the doorway. My breath came in painful gasps, and I clutched my side with both hands. Oh yeah, I was going to feel like crap tomorrow.

  Shabriri crouched low in the street, the hatred etched on his face. A thin wisp of smoke came from his forehead.

  “Now that I have your attention,” I said slowly, “I think it’s time to talk. You do talk, right?”

  The demon crouched in silence, the rain hitting and sliding off his slick coat.

  “OK,” I shrugged. “I’ll talk and you’ll listen. See, I was wondering something.”

  The demon stood up and stretched out his arms to begin the dance again.

  “I was wondering,” I continued, “what it could possibly be like for an ancient being like you to get his ass kicked by a talking monkey?”

  Shabriri stood motionless with his arms still raised.

  “I mean, you’re the Deceiver of Faith, the Blind Fury, and probably a whole bunch of other names I haven’t heard of. What did Michael call you? That’s right. A captain of Hell. A captain taken down by a mere mortal. I couldn’t imagine what that’s like back in the locker room. There are probably whole legions chuckling behind your back.”

  Shabriri hissed again and didn’t move.

  I smiled and leaned against the doorframe. “Now, if it was just once, I could see you telling your boss about how lucky the stupid monkey was. ‘But Lucifer, he had a coffee grinder!’ Oh wait, that doesn’t sound good either. Either way, one time could be forgiven. But twice. Twice. That’s one step away from the Rule of Threes, isn’t it? Wow, that must piss you off.

  “And then,” I continued with a wave of my hand, “here you are, once again being beaten by that stupid little monkey. Oh, you could finish your spell and burn us all to death, but how will that sound to the Morningstar? ‘Oh yeah, I’m this big bad demon, but I still couldn’t fight the monkey and kill him. But boss, there were crosses in there!’ Nope, instead you’re relying on the cheap win, because you know you can’t beat me.”

  The demon stopped hissing and dropped his arms. Just one more little push. “But that’s right. You’re one of the Fallen. You’re used to being afraid.” I smirked and turned my back on him.

  Now judo is the art of fighting a larger and stronger opponent and using his weight against him. Ann had me study all the arts, but judo was always her favorite. She loved to spin me over her shoulder, no matter how hard I tried to take her down. I hadn’t practiced in years, but thank God old habits don’t go away.

  The tiniest breath of wind alerted me. Instinct took over and I spun in time to grab a handful of the demon’s long coat. The fabric squirmed under my hands. I used the demon’s own rage and momentum to throw him off balance. A good turn and he flew into the middle of the room.

  Now the tap dance began. Adrenaline spiked, and I scrabbled to my feet. The demon hit one of the temporary walls, sending paintings and statues flying in all directions. He crashed through the flimsy material and landed right on a large bronze of Jesus dying on the cross. Oily black smoke condensed all around the demon like a decaying ash cloud.

  That was my cue. I sprinted past the demon, all my muscles screaming. A crack splintered the bronze statue, and I could feel the demon at my heels. Shattered wood and metal slammed against the walls. It was only a hundred feet from the front door to the back rooms, but it felt like I ran ten miles.

  After an eternity I burst into the back room. I barely had time to see the chalk circle. It spread out in the center of the room, with an unfinished arc facing the door.

  I ran through the unfinished section and vaulted over the other side of the circle. My momentum carried me into the wall beyond. Pain flared white and hot from my ribs. Thelma yelled “Now!” before I slumped to the floor in a heap. For a moment everything went black.

  Colors bled into my vision. The harsh grinding of coffee beans came from the four speakers in the ceiling. The demon froze inside the circle, spur raised high. Fear wrinkled his face.

  Thelma scuttled over on all fours and completed the chalk circle. A tingling rose in the back of my neck as the circle trapped the demon inside.

  I collapsed again. My breath came in ragged gasps. Thelma stood up and waved to a security camera mounted on the far wall. The grinding died and was replaced by a howl that made my teeth hurt. The demon screamed his rage to the world.

  Then silence. I slowly uncovered my ears as Thelma came over and helped me stand. Pain lashed every part of me. It was a piercing, gutting pain that threatened to black me out again. I gritted my teeth against it and hobbled forward.

  The demon sat crouched in the center of the circle and followed me with his blind eyes. “You need to invest in some earplugs,” I gasped. The demon watched in silence, but I could see the hatred etched into every pore.

  “Will it hold?” she asked, looking at the silent demon. He sat in the center of the circle, his blistered and scabbed head eerily tracking us even though he had no eyes. The dirty long-coat squirmed against the floor.

  “I think so. As long as no one touches the chalk.”

  Adam gasped from behind us, his dusky skin pale and clammy. “Great Allah,” he whispered. “When Beth told me…I didn’t believe…”

  I managed a smirk. “I know. Go,” I groaned, “make sure Beth and Amanda don’t see this. There are some nightmares I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

  I took one last look at the demon. For a moment a sickly fear crept over my world. Demons lived forever and they never forgave.

  Then Thelma turned off the lights, leaving nothing but darkness and silence behind.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I stared blankly out the window of the minivan and watched Lake Washington batter its rage against the floating bridge. The rain stopped, but it left behind a leaden blanket of clouds that pressed down on us lowly mortals.

  Adam drove the van down the Interstate 90 floating bridge, his demeanor even more solemn than usual. Beth sat next to him in the passenger seat, and every few moments she turned and glanced back at the child seat behind her, where Amanda sat sleeping. Then Beth would tuck her hair behind her ear, even when it didn’t fall forward.

  Beth’s brother had refused to come. I think I broke him. The last I saw of Anthony Tribiani the Third was his taillights as his Beamer sped away from us.

  It had b
een a long day.

  Every few moments I turned around, although the movement was like sliding a blade across my left side. Thelma still followed us in her VW Beetle. My eyes searched the evening sky. Watching for enemy fire. We were a war-torn caravan, heading back to the green zone.

  And I had seen too many wars. The hamburger had helped, but when I moved, a few broken ribs tore into my side. I would need more red meat soon, that's for damn sure. I could feel the Hunger coming, but it wasn’t there yet. And I sure as hell didn’t want to stop off at a fast food joint before getting Beth home. I needed to get her and her child safe before worrying about me.

  Thinking of worry, I pulled my cell phone out of my jacket pocket. The pain flared and the coat itself hung like an anvil around my neck, but I didn’t dare take it off. There were too many weapons in my pockets, and I needed to be alert and ready in case something nasty jumped us. I hit speed dial on the phone and waited.

  “You rely too much on my superior intellect,” Jake answered the phone.

  “How’d you know it was me?” I asked with a thin smile.

  “I am more powerful than you could possibly imagine, my man,” Jake huffed. “My power crosses the cosmos and can stretch to the outermost regions of the upper planes.”

  “Caller ID?”

  “You betcha. Now where the hell you been? I went by Thelma’s and found the place closed. I’ve tried calling you twice. Please tell me you and my sister ran off to Vegas. It would be preferable to the alternative.”

  “I wish. Spending my hard-earned cash on dancers and cheesy shows sounds like paradise compared to the mess I’m in.” The minivan swerved to miss a slow-moving Honda, and my ribs began a riotous argument with my stomach. I gasped.

  “Compared to the crap you’re always in,” Jake grumbled. “I thought you retired.”

  “I keep trying to tell the monsters that. They won’t listen.” I quickly filled him in on the details of the last few hours. At the end a groan escaped before I could stop it.

  Jake whistled. “Man, this is a truckload of crap, even for you. Is Thelma okay?” Worry crisscrossed his voice.