She throws me a confused look. Surely, her onyx choker is also alerting her of a demon presence. “But how—how did you know?”
I shrug because telling her the ghost of a little girl led me here is out of the question. “Just a hunch.”
Snorting, she says, “You don’t say.” She purses her lips. “Well, how are we going to do this?”
“We’ll each take a floor? I’ll take the second.”
“Fine. But you’ll go in first. If I’m lucky enough, the demon will eat your ugly face, and then I won’t have to stare at it all week.”
I almost laugh at that because I can only hope the same thing happens to her.
Even though the whip is my preferred weapon, it’s not as efficient in confined spaces. So, I take out the sword from its holster at my back before striding to the house. Veronica follows close behind.
The smell of sulfur hangs heavy in the air, and the ground on the front lawn is cracked, the grass long dead as if something sucked all the vital force out of it. These are clear signs that a demon—a powerful one—has been here a while. Lesser demons don’t affect the environment. In fact, there are only a few that can do this. The onyx stone becomes hotter with every step.
Light on my feet, I climb the decaying stairs, careful not to make them groan. It’s futile looking through the windows since it’s pitch black inside. When Veronica joins me on the front porch, I square my shoulders and try the door handle. It’s unlocked, so I push it open with the sole of my boot. The hinges screech ominously.
“Well, if the demon didn’t know we were coming, it sure does now,” she mutters.
I brush her jab off my shoulders. Adrenaline buzzes beneath my skin as I enter the house with measured steps. The first thing that hits me is the unmistakable putrid odor of death: a combination of rotting flesh, sulfur, and something sickeningly sweet. Lungs freezing up, I fight to death my gag reflex. That fucked up sonar in my head? It makes its presence known again, telling me there are fourteen dead bodies in this house. I pass the stairs while I let it guide me through the cramped hallway toward the back of the house.
“You said you were taking the second floor,” Veronica whisper-yells at my back.
I ignore her as I forge on and enter what seems to be the kitchen. The empty, decomposing husks of what I assume were once a man and a woman sit at the table. Blowflies buzz in the air above their heads while roaches scamper all over the table to geta bite of the spoiled food in front of them. The couple look as if something drained the life out of them—which is weird because when a demon consumes the soul completely, the bodies still have some vitality. It’s what transforms them into zombies.
Veronica gags. “Fuck, that’s vile. Weren’t they supposed to turn into zombies?” she muses, coming to the same conclusion as I did.
I can’t help but compare these bodies to the way Erik looked when I rotted him to death. Only, they don’t have the black vines. And he resembled a shriveled prune—as if he was being mummified. Shaking my head to rid myself of the memory, I finally say, “Yeah.” The death radar is telling me there are a few bodies on the second floor, while the rest are in the basement. We still need to check the entire house, though. “I’ll go search upstairs.”
Veronica nods, and I leave her in the kitchen so she can do the rounds here. The inside of the house doesn’t look as bad as the outside. Sure, the furniture is old, but judging by the photos I pass as I ascend, a family used to live here. Two boys, not older than seven, smile at me from one of the framed pictures. I already know what awaits me once I reach the second landing. But I still hold a tiny spark of hope that maybe those kids grew up from when that photo was taken or weren’t home when the demon murdered their family.
Please.
Taking a deep breath—which I quickly regret because of the foul stench—I push open the door of the first bedroom to my right.
Fuck.
A small body is lying on the bed in the same condition as the man and woman in the kitchen, hugging a Batman toy to his chest.
Over the years, I’ve seen some really bad shit. Still, nothingaffects you like the death of a child. And dying at the hands of a demon is a horrible way to go. Gritting my teeth, I turn on my heel and enter the second bedroom, only to find the same macabre image. Tears stab at the back of my eyes, but I shove them down. There’s no place for sadness right now. I focus instead on the rage crackling like lightning beneath my skin. I hone it. Let it burn through me until the thirst for vengeance is my only drive.
A terrified scream slices through the eerie silence.Veronica.
I zip down the stairs but don’t make it far because a clawed, monstrous hand shoots from below, shattering the wood and wrapping around my ankle. My fingers clutch the railing in a death grip, but it’s no use. Something pulls me down in an explosion of splinters right through the stairs.
Shitshitshitshitshitshit.
20
Iris
Pain detonates in every single one of my nerve endings as I collide with the basement’s cement floor. Something hard pokes me in the back. The sword, which I dropped on my way down, clatters behind me. Warm, sticky liquid coats my nape. Blinking rapidly, I try to clear the dancing red and white dots in my vision. As I’m about to swipe one of the daggers strapped to my thigh, I’m pinned down by a heavy body.
The image finally clears. Two reptilian eyes stare back at me from a face made of leathery skin covered in dragon-like scales. It takes me a while to come to the conclusion that it’s the Lamia, an ancient demon no one’s seen in ages. What stumps me is that it’s just lying still on top of me. I don’t have time to dwell on it, though. I thrash my body, but the damn demon is too heavy. So,I do the only thing I can think of—headbutt it. Hard. So hard, in fact, that I lose consciousness.
Its shrill cry quickly snaps me back to reality and almost makes my eardrums shatter. However, I’ve shocked the creature enough for it to slacken its hold. I put all the strength I have into my legs and bend my knees to kick the demon square in its chest, making it skid across the floor—which is covered in a gory blanket of blood, scattered limbs, and tiny skulls—a few feet away.
I jump up, but I’m not prepared for the blast of power that smashes into me. It sends me sailing through the air straight into the exposed brick wall at my back. Fuck. My lungs rattle hard with the sensation of a semi-truck crashing into my body at full speed. Blood floods my mouth while fireworks go off behind my eyelids. Hello, concussion, dear old friend. Can’t say I missed you…
