Demons are People Too

Five

Finally, I arrived. Children were everywhere, some running others walking, most shouting to be heard above each other as they exited the school gates. Parents ferried their offspring into cars, beeping horns at those who forgot their highway code or were too engrossed in electronic devices to remember vehicles were a lot bigger than them. I waited. The throng dissipated until only a few stragglers were coming out, leading me to think I might be mistaken. I sniffed the air. The scent of her lingered. I had either missed her or she had yet to...

Oh, there she was. I was so busy looking I wasn't seeing. She was holding a woman's hand. Her mother, I guessed. Familial ties, again. When demons are birthed, they are discarded within seconds of their emerging into Hell. They either survive or they don't. I couldn't understand why humans didn't do the same thing. It would make it much easier all around. Parents would be able to lead their lives and children would be allowed to be what they wished rather than what they were fashioned into being. Well, I needed what the girl had, not the girl herself. Mother and child could go on with their lives for me. I didn't have time nor inclination to make any waves which might drown me or wash away any chance of success.

They climbed into a car and drove away. I followed. I didn't need the smell of the girl to keep track of them. The bright yellow car with the black painted squiggle on top made their location obvious. Who designs a car to make it look at if a giant Sharpie had hiccupped whilst drawing a straight line? And why yellow? Not just yellow but as if the sun had been captured and trapped in the metal meaning you almost had to wear sunglasses to look at it. Even with a bus, a people carrier and a Reliant Robin with a man far too big to easily fit behind the wheel without the roof being cut off with a can opener, I could see the scribble-car easily so I could follow from a fair distance without being seen.

Being seen wasn't an issue. I wasn't me. I was Dave. You know that already, I know, but I didn't mean I was me Dave, I meant I was mortal Dave. The one your eyes slid over. The one your mind noticed but couldn't quite cling onto to voice a coherent thought about. I chose deliberately and I chose well. After stopping by a supermarket for milk, bread and a large bottle of wine, they were home. It had to be home - they left the car, grabbed the shopping and entered the house with a key. I didn't quite understand keys, really. In Hell, if you weren't allowed somewhere, you didn't go. The consequences were too dire to even contemplate doing otherwise. In the mortal world, you had to use locks to keep unwelcome visitors out. A baseball bat would surely suffice.

Yes, I was looking for a key myself. I get the irony. That's different. The Gates of Hell aren't exactly the front door to your house, are they?

I waited. I felt neither hunger nor tiredness so I had no problems lasting until darkness fell and then further still. Dave's body had to vacate its bladder once or twice but I didn't really notice. Tonight would be the night. A wet leg would be someone else's problem in a few hours. Dave's to be precise. A wet leg would, to be fair, be the least of his worries once he found himself back in his own body.

The lights went out in the girl's house. The one in her room had been switched off a good while earlier but I wanted to be sure the rest of her family was also asleep. I crept to the area outside her window. I was on the ground and wingless so flying up was a problem.

See? Wings again. A million and one uses. You can fly and... erm... fly.

I climbed. A tree and a utility room were my friends and I used both to gain access to her window. It was cracked slightly open, a combination of warm nights and forgetfulness. I pulled and it opened further, giving me plenty of room to climb in. I tried to be quiet, I really did. I had no interest in killing a young girl because she woke to find me in her room. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't going soft. I just wanted to be in and out. As much fun as it might be, it would have been a delay. And messy. They bleed a lot.