by Ivy Asher
What the hell?
I flinch back, the blood leaching from my face as I watch, stunned and completely at a loss for what my eyes are showing me. Demon. Once again, the word reverberates in my skull, bouncing around like a ping pong ball, but I know instinctively that it’s right.
Unaware of my shock, she lifts up a frail hand and waves distractedly to me as she passes by. I return the gesture numbly, my autopilot manners kicking in. I drop my eyes to the plaid pattern of the blanket I’m sitting on and try not to hyperventilate. Shock and panic slam through me like a hurricane, once again decimating the rules of the world I thought I knew.
I sneak another peek at Mrs. Lee, hoping that with enough blinks, she’ll revert back to the elderly Asian woman I’ve come to know. But the antlered, skeletal being that’s wrapped up in a giant fur is still there. She just leans against the tree trunk and goes about her visit, just like she has every Sunday since I was nineteen, like nothing is out of the ordinary.
What the hell is going on?
I kiss both my parents’ headstones quickly, ending my visit early. I need to get the hell out of here before I lose it. I grab the blanket and tarp and speed walk back to my moped, trying not to get caught staring at Mrs. Lee as I go. I putter away, trying to grasp any kind of relief from the distance I put between me and whatever the fuck she is, but it doesn’t come.
Am I losing it? Am I seeing demons where there are none? Or worse, am I seeing them where there actually are?
Why now? It doesn’t make any sense why I would all of a sudden see demons where, before, Mrs. Lee was one hundred percent human. So what the fuck did Iceman and the others do to me?
I turn to head home, my whole body practically shaking, but my stomach suddenly rumbles in protest, reminding me that I have to make a grocery run.
Shit.
I fight my instincts to flee home and turn in the direction of the store instead. I’ll just get in and get out quickly, and then I can go home and have a proper freak out.
I repeat the word fuck in my head the entire drive, because I’m terrified to look at anything for too long, and that’s not a phobia one should have when they’re trying to drive. I screech into a parking spot, cursing myself for not hiding a back up pair of sunglasses somewhere on this piece of shit moped. I usually judge people for wearing sunglasses inside, but now I feel like it might be a much needed lifeline to make it through the rest of this demon-seeing day.
“I take back every ounce of judgment I aimed at some sunglasses-wearing freak inside a store,” I grumble to myself as I give up searching my moped for a pair. “I clearly had no idea what demons they might have been wrestling with...some of them quite possibly literally.”
I look around quickly, probably resembling some unhinged drug addict with the level of jumpiness I’m experiencing, but there’s fuck-all I can do about that at the moment.
I keep my eyes on the ground and waste no time making my way inside the store and down the aisles, filling up my cart with all kinds of shit. I’m only half paying attention to what I’m throwing in my basket, but I spot chips, cookies, TV dinners, mac n cheese, beef ramen, chicken ramen, something called deluxe ramen...you know, the seven major food groups. I’m on the drink aisle, trying to determine if I can drink my veggies so that I don’t have to actually taste them, when my creeper alarm starts going off.
I shove the tomato-kale-pineapple atrocity back into the cooler and whirl around, clutching a carton of eggs in my other hand. I’m not sure why my instinct was to clutch the eggs like they’re my best weapon option. It’s a bad choice all around, but I have to stick with it, because now I’m stalking down the aisle, pushing my squeaky wheeled cart so that I can peer around the corner.
I hold my breath, terrified of what I might find, but when I look there’s...nothing. Well, nothing other than a perfectly human looking mother of four who has one toddler sitting in the cart, one strapped to her front, and two others running around her feet. “Where’s the wine aisle?”
I quickly point her in the right direction, and she goes off in a hurried rush. My adrenaline is now through the roof, and I decide to cut this trip short and get the hell out of here. I have plenty of ramen to live off of for a good two weeks at least. Rushing to the register, I pay in cash, very mindful of the total racking up and how I need to count my pennies now more than ever.
Hurrying outside, I shove my groceries into the saddlebags on my moped and then peel out of the parking lot to head back home. I decide the highway is probably not my safest bet in my current panicked and quaking state, so I take the side roads that lead to my neighborhood. Ten minutes later, I’m zooming down the cracked asphalt, a gas station on my left and an empty biker bar on my right, when I’m forced to slam on the brakes.
Shit!
My front tire gets scarily close to wanting to veer off to the left, and the back of my moped fights me to fishtail, but I bring down one of my legs to help stop my momentum.
In hindsight, that was a shit idea, because it hurts like fuck when my ankle twists and my foot scrapes against the pavement, but I manage to come to a stop without crashing. I pant, wide-eyed at the line of figures thirty feet in front of me who are completely blocking the road. Even as they hide in the shadows of the building, I can see that they’re about four feet tall, green, horned, and more muscular than a nineties wrestler on steroids.
What in the Hellgate?
They stare at me while I stare at them right back. I glance around, but there’s no one else in this alleyway, and only the sound of cars driving on the road behind me reminds me that there’s perfectly normal human things going on.
When they still do nothing, I give the line of short green demons an awkward wave. “Uhh, hey?”
Sure, Delta. Let’s just greet the dozen hulked-out oompa loompas who are scowling and cracking their knuckles at me, because clearly, they’ve just stopped by to say hey.
This area is about as ghost town as it gets. I have no weapons, no help, and my moped does zero to sixty in just over three-thousand seconds. I blink several times in quick succession, my heart racing in fear, wishing for this all to be a bad dream.
But no, they’re really here, blocking the alleyway, and I’m screwed. Those things in the mansion’s kitchen weren’t as bad as this. Not even the one with the warts. I mentally scowl at the shadows, wishing that Echo would pop up, but it stays defiantly empty of the hot, pale-skinned demon with the moving tattoos. Figures.
The little green monsters continue to stand there breathing and watching me like they’re waiting for me to make the first move. Maybe they’re not here to hurt me?
“You little fellas lost?” I ask in my best cute puppy coo.
The Gate could be messed up. Maybe because I left the job, it’s just open or some shit, and these guys got stuck on the wrong side? I have no idea how it all works, but they could’ve tracked me down because they’re trying to get home or something?
My chronic wishful thinking turns to concrete in my chest when they suddenly all start to growl at me. It would appear that the buff little green demons don’t like to be cooed at. Or maybe it was my use of little fellas that got their taints in a clench? Who knows.
I clear my throat and do my best to sound manly. Maybe they speak meathead? “Yo, bro, whatta ya say we bench something and grab a protein drink instead of whatever else you’re here to do?”
I puff out my chest and step off my moped, giving a friendly little man grunt as I do, but my movement is like a red flag to a bull. The buff green demons start flipping and climbing up on each other until they’re no longer twelve separate beings, but now appear to be a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger from Hell.
My head tilts up and up and up. The top of them now nearly reaches the roofs of the buildings we’re sandwiched between. I immediately try to work out how I’m going to defend myself from this colossal clusterfuck of green muscled rage. I could chuck my ramen at them, but aside from the potential scurvy they could get from eati
ng too much of it, that’s a shit plan, and I’m fucked.
The hulking mass takes a threatening step toward me, and I unclip my helmet from my head and wrap the strap around my fist. Maybe I can get a couple hits in before they rip me apart. Man, who am I fucking kidding? I’m not the Karate Kid. I’m about to die.
The Jolly Green Giant of my nightmares picks up speed, and suddenly I’m struck by a thought. “Sweep the leg,” I mumble to myself, recalling the only other thing I remember from the Karate Kid movies aside from wax on, wax off. “Sweep the motherfucking leg!” I scream to myself in triumph as I snap my helmet back on and swing a leg over my moped. I rev it up like the threat it is and glare at the demons running toward me.
The wheels give a scream of protest as I take off like a drunk snail and head straight for the mountain of green demons. I curse my ancient, slow ass scooter as it takes its sweet fucking time to gain speed. The speedometer needle passes twenty, and I growl-scream as I ignore every self-preservation instinct I have and barrel right for the demon tower. We close in on each other, and when we’re about fifteen feet away, I purposely lean too far to the right, and then attempt to jump off.
It’s way fucking harder than the movies make it look.
I grunt in pain as I roll brutally to a stop on the pavement. My moped goes skidding toward the running demons, and I watch in awe as it slams into their leg tower and sends the demons crashing down.
Screams fill the air, and I cover my ears against the sound as my impromptu “bowling for demons” plan works, and they all fall down like Humpty fucking Dumpty, into a dozen pieces.
I don’t stick around to see them get up. I pick my road-rashed ass up and sprint as fast as I can toward the main road. Sorry, moped. Sacrifices have to be made.
One good thing about living in a city with way too many people? I don’t have to run far before I run into someone. I haul ass toward the gas station, and the first pump I get to has a man in his forties climbing into a convertible. Perfect. I take a running leap at it and jump into the passenger’s seat. My landing is slightly off though, so the gear hits me right in my baby maker. “Motherfucker!”
Men think they own the pain rights when it comes to shots in between the legs, but I can officially swear to the fact that it hurts like a bitch for women too. Startled, the man gapes over at me as I quickly remove my leg from his lap and rub my sore crotch as I settle into the passenger seat. I whip my head around to look behind me for the green monsters, but so far, I’ve outrun them.
“Umm...Excuse me? What the fuck are you doing?” the man demands. He rubs at his side and his thigh like my jumping on him caused some kind of injury. Considering I’m scraped all to hell and being chased by murderous demons, I don’t really have a lot of sympathy for him right now.
I shoot him a look, though the movement hurts my neck because I’m pretty sure I pulled a muscle from my moped maneuver. My cheek also hurts like a bitch. Basically, the whole side of my face and my palms feel raw from my pavement slide. “Just drive!”
He looks aghast. “What? No. Get out of my car! I don’t even know you.”
I quickly shove my hand out and grab his, ignoring the stinging pain in my palm so I can give his hand a forceful, trustworthy shake. “I’m Delta. Nice to meet you. You are?”
“Umm, Tom?”
“Great, Tom. I’m gonna need you to fucking drive now, okay? Because there are scary green men chasing me, and they don’t look friendly.”
Tom frowns at me, but I must look crazy enough to scare him into action, because he puts his car into gear and starts pulling away just as I see the first of the demons round the corner, bloodied and pissed off. They seem to be yelling something at me, though I can’t understand what they’re saying, and no one else at the gas station seems to see them at all.
As soon as Tom’s red convertible pulls out onto the highway, I watch as the green demons stop, arms crossed as they watch us drive away. I let out a sigh of relief and turn back around, letting my aching head lie back against the headrest. “Fuck,” I mumble under my breath.
Tom shoots me an uncertain look. “Where am I supposed to take you? Because I was heading out for a date and…”
“And you don’t want to show up with me in the car? Yeah, that wouldn’t be good, Tom.”
He nods in agreement. “So...where…”
Right. Where, indeed.
I quickly rattle off the address to the stupid mansion of the stupid demons. They’ve got some explaining to do. They also owe me a new moped. And an entire box of ramen.
“That’s a long way away…”
I’m on the brink of losing it. “Okay, can you just drop me off at the nearest bus stop? Please?”
He grumbles a lot of shit, including a tidbit about a “crazy ass woman thinking she’s being abducted by green aliens,” but he takes me to the bus stop anyway.
“Thanks, Tim,” I tell him distractedly.
“It’s Tom,” he scowls.
“Right. Sorry.”
He peels away as soon as I shut his door. I barely have time to back away to the curb and not get my toes run over. “Geez. Tim’s rude,” I mumble as his car races off.
“I think he said his name was Tom, dear,” the elderly woman on the bus bench says behind me.
I nod at her. “Yeah.”
The woman gives me a once-over, because I probably look like shit. “Here,” she says kindly, digging in her purse before offering up a travel package of wet wipes. “You’ve taken a bit of a tumble. Unless Tom there needs to be taken care of?”
She speaks so sweetly that I don’t even realize what she’s said for a few moments. “Oh. Um, no. Tim doesn’t need to be killed. I crashed my moped.”
She nods just as the city bus pulls up. “This one yours?” she asks.
At this point, I’ll take any of them. Who knows if those green bean bastards can catch up to me? “Yep.”
“You take care now. And always wear your helmet! I tell my grandsons to always wear theirs, and they never listen.”
“Will do. Thanks for the wipes,” I say before hauling myself up the bus stairs.
As soon as I step onto it, I realize that I don’t have any money. I check my back pockets like I’m looking for a bus pass, and find one of them is ripped. I now have a denim butt flap that is clearly exposing some cheek to the rest of the world. I don’t even care right now, though. The driver gives a huff, the sound indicating that he’s not buying my oh shit, where’s my bus pass pat down of my pockets.
I toss a sheepish look his way, and he winces when he looks at my face. “Just get on,” he instructs, turning away from me.
My gaze fills with gratitude, and I mumble a “thank you” as I pass him and slide into the first empty row of seats I find. I collapse against the cold plastic of the chair and lean against the window, letting out a shaky breath as the rest of the adrenaline purges from my body.
That was just...in-fucking-sane. And terrifying. I’m really pissed off that the guys didn’t come to help me. Clearly, they let those demons get through their Hellgate, so this is their fault. At least, that’s what I’m sticking to right now.
As the bus drives, I carefully use the wipes to clean my cheek and palms. It stings like a bitch, but I think I manage to get all of the little asphalt rocks out from my skin and most of the blood wiped off.
By some miracle, this bus is heading in the right direction of the hot demon estate, but when I get off at the stop, it’s still miles away from my final destination. Guess I’ll be hoofing it. Dragging my sore body forward, I begin walking while looking around constantly, just in case more fucked up demon spawn try to jump me.
By the time I crest a hill and spot the massive gate that opens to the long driveway of the mansion, it’s been hours since my green team from Hell attack.
I’m tired, I’m hurt from my crash, I’m hungry as fuck, I’m freaked out, and I’m pissed. Oh, and I’m covered in sludgy mud, because I fell into a fucking marsh on the way
here. As if I wasn’t having a shitty day already.
Time to give those four demons a piece of my mind.
8
I pound on the front door, wincing at the pain in my hand. Grumpy Lurch opens the door, his face just as cantankerous as ever, and when he sees me, his lips pull back in an irritated snarl.
I don’t wait for him to tell me I need to go to the back of the house or for him to spew any of his other classist bullshit that I see brewing in his eyes. Instead, I push my way past him into the house. “Excuse me!” he snaps.
“You’re excused,” I snark back as I hurry through the entryway.
I ignore the alarm that shoots through me when I realize that maybe this guy is a demon too. Then again, even if he is, I doubt this snooty fucker would lower himself to manhandle the help, or at least, that’s what I hope as I stomp past him, dismissing the indignant noises he starts making.
A booming laugh fills the massive house, and I pivot and head for the source. Just when I think I can’t get any more pissed about this situation, that laugh sounds off again, stoking my inky black rage. How dare they be here, having a good time, while I’m out there almost dying!
I try to ignore the squelching sound my water-logged shoes are making and the breeze I feel on my exposed ass cheek as I make my way deeper into the house. Grumpy Lurch is stammering incoherently like he doesn’t know what to do about me. I look back to find him staring murderously at the mess I’m tracking through the pristine hall, my muddy footprints leaving dark watery puddles in my wake.
Whoops.
If he is a demon, I could definitely see him murdering me for making a mess, so I pick up the pace to round the corner, but I slam face first into a warm, rock-hard road block.
An oomph rushes out of me as I bounce off the wall of muscle. Large hands reach out to keep me from falling, but I wince in pain from the touch on my already wrecked body. I reach up and grab my nose, trying to breathe through the stars. I’m pretty sure it’s now bleeding. Great, just fucking great.
