Memories of his blood painting my face as I stared at myself in the mirror flooded across my brain. He’d been the first to die after Lucifer pulled me back from the brink.
Killing Callen’s younger brother, Damien, had taken that first sliver of humanity away from me. I knew he wasn’t sick like Callen, but it didn’t stop weakness from prevailing, from letting the sickness spread within and leaving room for evil to take root.
It made me wonder if Joe had been born this way, or an unfortunate victim groomed by evil like his uncle.
Not that it mattered. They chose their paths just as I chose mine, and there were consequences waiting for each of us at the end of the line.
With one last glance, I turned to leave the room, letting the door click softly behind as I closed the door to Joe’s childhood forever.
For the first time since I’d started this hellbent mission tonight, nerves bubbled like champagne in my belly.
Tonight was the night I paid off my debt to Satan.
I’d been staring down this road for thirty years. There had been times I’d driven the speed limit. There had also been times I’d barreled down the center line watching the world blur past me. For a while, though I’d been broken down on the shoulder and waiting for someone to come fix me.
I’d lost sight of the direction I was meant to travel and forgotten who was supposed to be in the driver seat.
That all ended tonight.
Callen left me at a crossroads, and Joe made sure to bury my bones. They were about to find out that they’d called forth a fucking demon.
I. Went.Apeshit.
The Louisville slugger quintessential to my kill kit had left its mark on nearly every room in Callen's house, and nothing was off limits.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Callen,” I said as I flipped the master bedroom light switch. “ I need to use the bathroom. Is yours available?”
She laid in a halo of red on her white silk sheets, the Bible still clutched in her cold dead hands.
“Sure, Dany," I mocked with a grin. “Don't mind the bajillion dollar makeup mess on my side of the vanity.”
“Don’t worry Mrs. C. See no evil and all of that junk.”
The bat twirled in my fingers as I sauntered toward the open bathroom door. I wasn't surprised to see a magazine worthy space as I stepped over the threshold. Still it pissed me off.
“Do you think having real marble vanity counters makes their shits fancier or something?” Jesus meowed confirmation as he promptly made a perch out of it.
I caught my reflection in the mirror just as the opening beats of my favorite Hall and Oats song played through a speaker hanging from my skirt’s belt loop.
With my signature crazed smile looking back at me, I yelled “Oh, it is fuckingon!”
The mirror shattered, it crashed echoing off the walls as the bat made contact. My arms shook from the reverberation, and I welcomed the ache.
I wrecked every mirror, the shower glass, windows, drywall, even the perfectly grouted tile decorating the floor, like a whirlwind of destruction.
“Oh, here she comes,” I hummed as I skipped out the bedroom door, throwing, “Thanks Mrs. C! I feel a lot better!” over my shoulder as I went.
The upper level was thoroughly fucked up, so I made my way down the stairs, dancing up and down like Baby from Dirty Dancing until I hit the landing. There was something about murder and destruction that made me feel sexy as hell.
Maybe Lucifer thought so, too. The thought made me blush, and excited to see his reaction for my bloody grand gesture. I wouldn’t be holding a boom box, but I was pretty sure he’d like my setup better anyway.
A family photo of the Whitcomb household was mounted on the wall across from the steps. Four pairs of dead eyes stared back at me. If I didn't hate them all so much, I might have felt a little sorry for them.
I lifted the butt of the bat up to my mouth and pulled the trigger of my finger gun aimed at Joe's head as I sang, “Oh the beauty is there, but a beast is in the heart.”
My next destination was my favorite room in any house: the kitchen.
“Let's see what their last supper was shall we? No pun intended, Jesus!” I hollered, unsure where the shithead was but sure he was close behind. He would never miss a chance to snack.
