The demon she slew last night? Itty bitty. Teeny tiny. Super easy to exorcise.
But this morning, her hands tremble and her jaw twitches.
Her friend Cran better not surprise her. Her jaw’s not the only thing feeling twitchy.
A pair of demon stories for everyone who knows the need to keep your wits about you when dealing with the supernatural…
Aftermath
“Are you alright?”
I snorted. “Oh, yes. Absolutely.”
Cran gave me a sidelong look. “I was only asking.”
“And I was only answering.” I shifted so’s he couldn’t see my face, and stared out the window. “Of course I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? It was only a small demon, teeny tiny. Barely worth exorcising.” My jaw twitched as I tried to hold back the sarcasm.
Silence for a moment, then I heard the rustle of cloth as he stood.
He left without saying a word.
I was glad.
I waited a while to be sure he wasn’t coming back, then I went to the sideboard and poured myself a few too many finger-heights of lemon vodka. I glanced away so I didn’t have to see my hands tremble.
I was fine. The demon was gone. It had needed barely any prompting, even; just a splash of holy water, a garlic sandwich and a quick prayer—gone.
A tiny demon.
Insignificant.
So why did I feel so damn messed up?
I gulped down the alcohol, ignoring the burn in my throat, and slumped back down on the lounge. I stared out the window, smiling half-heartedly as Molly-the-insane-labradoodle chased the neighbour’s cat across the lawn.
Yesterday, if someone’d told me what was going to happen, I’d’ve called them insane. Actually, I’d’ve prob’ly called them a bloody idiot, get out of my way now, thanks very much. But whatever.
I closed my eyes and draped a hand over my face. The sunlight seemed extra bright and shiny today, and it hurt my eyes to look outside for long.
Something moved behind me and I jumped, whipping out the crucifix from down my shirt. “Dammit, Cran,” I said. “Did you have to come in so suddenly like that?”
He looked abashed. “Sorry.”
Cran never said sorry. My grip on the crucifix tightened and I found myself wishing I could switch my alco for water—the holy kind. “What did you say?”