We Got Demons! Apartment 239 Part III

Chapter Eight: Mr. Brown

DB dropped to the ground. The fall knocked the wind from the creature. It gasped for breath and tried to remember the last time it felt vulnerable, wounded. The creature groaned, looking down at the severed stump of its left leg. The cat roared from the rooftop. DB rolled over onto its back, looking up at the cat. The cat's clawed hands gripped the edge of the roof, the gutters crunching in its hands. It leaned over, watching DB try to flee. The cat leapt down, landing feet from DB.

DB crawled, pulling itself along the ground as the cat stalked forward, it's head now a writhing mass of snakes, each screaming. The tendrils stopped flailing, and all pulled forward toward DB, zeroing in on the wounded demon. The cat stepped over DB and leaned down, the snapping heads on each tendril moved closer to the small creature.

Dying now. Not yet. Not supposed to happen yet.

The cat coughed and gagged. The snakes desperately pulled in different directions, each trying in vain to escape. Lifting off the ground, the cat swatted at the hand wrapped around its throat. Mr. Brown brought the creature aloft with an outstretched hand. Red eyes narrowed at the dying cat. With the other hand, he tore the cat's head off, letting it drop to the ground. He then took a piece of the severed neck in each hand and pulled, tearing the creature in half. With each inch of flesh split, a scream issued in a different register. Green liquid splashed onto the ground, viscera rolled out, smoking as it hit the grass.

Mr. Brown dropped the creature's halves onto the ground. The remains hissed and popped as the flesh melted down into the grass. The green St. Augustine wilted and yellowed around the vanishing corpse.

Mr. Brown.

He nodded to DB.

"Oh my God, his leg!" Madeline said. She approached DB and dropped to the ground. "What do we do?"

"Do we take you somewhere?" Ted asked. "I'll get a blanket."

"A blanket?" Madeline asked.

"I don't know!" Ted yelled.

Fine. Will grow back. Need rest.

"You sure? You look...you don't look good," Ted said.

I am good. I am good.

Mr. Brown slowly turned his head from Madeline to Ted, to DB and back. He said nothing, his fists remained clenched, his arms held out to his side, every muscle tense, a predator ready to strike. Not part of his face was visible, only his eyes and their crimson glow.

"Okay," Ted said. "What else does the note say? Do we...put him back?"

Madeline pulled the paper from her pocket, she scanned the crumpled paper and turned it over and over again. "No, there's nothing else. I don't know what we do. Um, Mr. Brown, is it?" Madeline asked.

He snapped his head up and towards her voice.

"What now?" She asked.

Only Lilith can make him sleep. DB sat up. He awaits your orders.

"Cool, we have a slave!" Madeline said.

"What?" Ted asked.

"What? I didn't mean it like that!"

"How else could you possibly mean that?" Ted asked.

He awaits your orders.

"How long until Aunt Lilith returns?" Madeline asked. She pointed at the grass, the body now a pool of yellow ink, the grass around it dead and the dirt exposed.

"A day and a half," Ted said. He looked up at the roof. Wood cracked and strained. Through the sliding glass door, Ted watched small pieces of the ceiling drop onto the kitchen table. The house seemed to sigh as a significant portion of the ceiling fell into the kitchen with a crash, clouds of dust and broken drywall rolled in the air. Spider web cracks flashed onto the sliding glass door, becoming more dense and detailed until the glass itself gave way with an audible crack.

"So," Ted asked. "How good is he at home repair?"