Demoniac

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“Get any calls?” Halak asked, walking into his apartment and kicking off his shoes. Arlo shook his head, greasy hair waving from side to side. He was hunched over in a chair next to the table clipping his toenails. They were long over-due. “Where’s Azu?”

“I haven’t seen him since he left to find food. He probably got distracted by something shiny,” Arlo said. Tara walked in behind Halak. She moaned and didn’t bother slipping off her flats, walking to the pantry over the kitchen counter.

“How was it?” Arlo asked.

“Boring.” 

He nodded. “Exorcisms sound a lot cooler than they really are.” 

Tara pulled down a bowl and a box of fruit loops. “There wasn’t any magic. He didn’t so much as chant. I thought maybe he would use a cross or something,” She said, opening the fridge to fish out some milk.

“The mystical is a lot more practical than you’d think,” Halak said, sitting at the kitchen table opposite Arlo. He watched him clip his last nail, cringing as it flipped into the air and landed on the table. Arlo brushed it to the floor.

“What’s a demon got to be afraid of a cross anyway?” Arlo said, but it didn’t sound like him, and Halak knew it wasn’t. It was the demon, Jirou, trapped inside. “You put two sticks against each other and suddenly Hell is freezing over? I don’t think so. It’s what we used to kill the guy anyway. It’s like pointing at a man’s own gun and telling him to fear it.” 

Tara cocked her head sideways, looking quizzical. It seemed she had never thought of that.

A door squeaked open and Azu walked out of the unlit room beyond. He squinted against the light and scratched at his scalp. His hair pointed in a few different directions. He looked at them curiously.

“Did you just wake up?” Halak asked.

Azu nodded.

“Tara just got back from her first exorcism.” Arlo said, smiling and pointing at Tara with his clippers. He squinted down his arm like he was sighting down a gun. 

Azu smiled pleasantly before shuffling to a seat and falling into it. He looked at her, hands folded between her knees and waited.

“He punched the guy.” Tara told him flatly.

“A little violence never hurt anyone,” The demon in Arlo said. Tara looked at him like she didn’t know how to respond to the remark. No one did. “Anyway, works real well. One punch, was it?” Jirou asked, turning to Halak who simple nodded. “Young one then? Or was it just a really good punch?” He put a hand to his mouth as if to cover it so Halak couldn’t hear. “He’s got a real good punch,” He said, winking at Tara. 

“Young one,” Halak told him, dismissing the remark. He’d hardly tried the time he hit Jirou. 

“Well he couldn’t had been older than seventeen.” Tara responded, taking another spoonful of fruit-loops.

“Not the boy, love,” Jirou said, flipping out the file from his clippers and beginning to work on one of the more jagged nails. “The demon.”

“I thought demons were eternal,” She said, resting her spoon in the bowl and trying not to let milk dribble down her chin as she spoke.

“They are. But what we’re talking about is how accustomed they are to possessing a host. I was in my youth when-” 

The phone rang. 

Jirou sighed and his expression shifted as Arlo took control again. He set his clippers down and stood up to answer it. 

As he pulled the phone off the hook and put it to his ear, he said, “Five-Guys, we'll exercise you and we don't mean your body. Well,” he paused, “in a sense,” He said into the receiver before listening for a response. A blank look crossed his face then twisted into confusion. Finally he covered the phone and turned to Halak.

"It's a guy named Larry. Says you know him." 

"Bartender Larry?" Halak asked. Arlo repeated the question into the phone.

"Bar owner, Larry,” He said.

"I know him. What does he want?"

“’Says he's got a case he needs to look into. Wants to know if you can come tonight." Halak stood up from his seat and waved a hand dismissively.

"Set up an appointment, we'll come another night.” Halak walked to his room as Arlo relayed the message. He nudged the door open with his foot and tiredly stepped into the darkness.

"We don't deal with the dead." He heard Arlo say behind him. Halak stopped. That was interesting… Larry knew exactly what they did so he wouldn't be calling about a seance or any of that superstitious bull-crap. Halak stepped back into the light.

"What does he mean by dead?" Halak asked.

"He's got some dead guy in his bar.” Arlo pulled the phone from his ear, "Says he went nuts and just croaked.” Halak walked back and took the phone from Arlo.

“Tell me about your dead guy, Larry.“