Friday, December 7, 2012

The Interrogation

I charged at a flat-out run...or as close as I could get to a flat-out run with all those people in the way.  I pushed my next-door neighbor aside a little too roughly, hopped a row of chairs, narrowly avoided colliding with my aunt, and darted around the corner where I'd seen the demonic head. 

Sure enough, a few feet away was a short Low Order Demon with orange skin.  He'd apparently managed to find himself some clothes.   This may have made his appearance more family friendly, but I think it made it weirder too.  He was a demon.  Wearing a plaid flannel shirt and a pair of khaki cargo pants.  And the rest of him was orange.

He immediately recognized me and took off down the hall.  He'd just barely made it to the exit when I tackled him.  His head hit the door's push bar and we tumbled outside, down a small flight of concrete steps, and into a mostly empty parking lot behind the funeral home.

I grabbed him by the collar of his weird flannel and pressed him against the side of the building, letting his feet dangle a few inches off the ground.  It was a cool thing badasses did in movies, and until recently it was something I wouldn't have even dared to attempt.  I guess being the Devil had some unexpected perks.

"Where's your friend?" I growled.

The demon squirmed uncomfortably.  Even though he was hellspawn and innately evil, I couldn't help but think how much he looked like a toddler who was about to wet his pants.

"Where the fuck is he?" I shouted.  I readjusted my grip so that my hand was now around his neck...and squeezing.

"I don't know," he wheezed.

"Bullshit," I barked.  "You two came here to murder my family.  Tell me where he is and how he's going to do it."

The ugly little demon actually smiled.  "I don't know," he repeated.  "He said he was going to improvise.  My job was just to be the distract you."

I clenched my fist in anger, essentially ripping the bastard's throat out.  Then, just in case he didn't need to breathe to live, I teleported both of us back to the Department of Enforcement.  Then I immediately teleported back to the parking lot. 

I was pissed, and I didn't much care at that moment whether he lived or died, but I needed to make sure that if he did live, he wasn't getting back to the land of the living. 

One down, one to go.  I walked back up the steps into the funeral home and pulled the first fire alarm I could find.

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