Demonic

Chapter 12

Peeling my eyes open, I find myself surrounded by pale blue walls. Two beds are stationed on either side of the room. Their covers a simple white yet neatly made and in between the two beds, a window rests. A simple room but good enough. I'm only borrowing this place for sleep anyway.

I stretch my long limbs, releasing the kinks, bones creaking like old floorboards, stiff from an awkward position. I guess sleeping on a wardrobe isn't the most comfiest thing. Who would have thought?

I shake my head, ridding myself of a lingering dream. Shattered images stab into my mind like fragmented glass. I haven't dreamt in long time if it could be called a dream at all. Aren't dreams supposed to be happy filled things with rainbow farting flowers and unicorns that piss cotton candy?

Green eyes and arrows that dripped black blood had plagued my mind. They kept jolting me awake and didn't fail to keep me tossing and turning. At one stage I'm pretty sure I fell off the wardrobe.

The door flips open and two boys run in. Their features chubby with small, gangly limbs and carrying looks that are no older than eight. Like seals, they belly flop on the bed, shimmering their fragile bodies under the blankets.

The light flicks on, receiving an annoyed hiss from me. I lay sprawled on top of the wardrobe as a lady walks in, her heels thunking against wooden floorboards.

They don't even spare me a glance. I glide my tongue over pointed teeth, eyes keenly focused on their every movement.

"Ok boys, time for bed," she says, her voice soft yet commanding.

Leaning over, she pecks both children on the forehead.

"Goodnight, sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite," she whispers.

"Night," the chubby, little bundles respond. Flicking the light switch back off, the door softly clicks shut behind her. The noise of her heels click clacking, fade away.

My eyes readjust to the dark. Giving them a few blinks, objects return to crystal clear. The bed sheets rustle and a murmured, "goodnight," is heard before the two boys fall silent.

I'm surprised. I pictured getting two little boys to sleep in the same room a pain in the ass.

I slide off the wardrobe, careful to avoid my horns from scraping the roof as I hop off. Without a noise, my feet touch the ground. I weave around the toys that scatter the floor, the lego deadlier than landmines.

Smirking, I give a skateboard a little push. The wheels turn along the boards and the tip softly bumps into the wall. One boy lifts his head. Getting dark brown strands of hair out of his eyes, he flicks his face.

Dismissing the skateboard as his imagination, his head rests back on the pillow.

Grinning like a fool, I bend my knees and jump. I come back down, feet hitting the ground with a bang that rumbles through the room. The kids bolt upright, eyes wide, hearts in their throats.

"What was that?" the left one asks. Their eyes search the room in panicked confusion. I snort.

Lazily walking over to the window, I open the latch and push the window open. The boy on my right slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyes going wider than car tyres. A scream sticks in his throat, never making it past trembling lips.

Just to be a bitch, I slam my talons onto either side of the window and drag them down. Large gashes form on the wall, keeping the kids paralysed in fear as their cute faces turn paler than the moon.

Finally one of them regains movement. A high pitched squeal lets itself free. Hell, if I didn't know better I would mistake him for a girl with a shriek like that.

"Run!" one of them shouts.

As one, they fly off the beds. Little rockets that head straight for the door.

I bend over, hands braced on my knees, laughter pouring out. Leaning against the wall, I wipe away an imaginary tear.

"Hilarious," I say to myself.

Don't you just love kids?

I stretch my legs over the side of the window and drop down. The grass is cold and slightly damp from the sprinklers. Green and lush. Fresh air caresses my now clean skin. I figured if I was going to sleep in their house I may as well use the shower.

The sun has just set. It's last rays slowly disappearing over the edge of the earth.

I flex my fingers. Once a shredded mess, my injured hand is now almost healed. Thick scratches rack down with a slightly black hue around them. The wounds knitting themselves together. Considering I could see bone, I say it's a big improvement from yesterday.

I shift back into my human disguise. Muscles contracting and inhuman features disappearing, my deathly pale skin now complementing a tan.

I stroll across the lawn, giggling as I hear the boys attempting to convince their mother that they didn't create the marks in the wall.

Traveling away from the house, I aim for the Main Street. Humans still flutter about. Taking a nice stroll underneath the freshly set sun, I pass a small restaurant. A tv plays in the corner.

I watch the piece of technology play the local news through the window. A waitress gives me a strange look from inside, tilting her head a little, glancing behind her to see what I'm looking at. She raises an eyebrow but continues to serve people.

I can almost guarantee I look like a complete weirdo staring at a tv through a restaurant window.

The news shows pictures of red and blue flashing lights and a picture of a bar. The writing down the bottom reads, "Man found brutally murdered outside of local bar."

Sighing, I walk off.

Strolling through the streets an idea pops into my head. I figure I can't keep sleeping in random houses. Wardrobes suck and couches are crap especially when a human mistakingly sits on your invisible body. I'm going to need a place of my own. It's only temporary until I murder that demon hunters ass, but having a place to rest and return too would be handy.

After last nights exploration, I can think of a place.

Hopping off the Main Street, I head out of town. Houses become less and less. Street lamps are no more and the road soon develops a deserted kind of feel. The woods surrounding the town thicken as the roads turn to dirt.

Though dark and out of town, houses still line the dirt road.

Stopping in front of a worn driveway, I shove my hands on my hips.

An old abandoned house calmly sits in front of me. It's two stories are still no match for the trees hight. I take in the cracked windows and wooden structure. It gives off that classic haunted look though I'm almost certain nothing inhabits the house.

Stepping up the porch, the stairs groan. They look so unstable, I'm shocked that they don't snap on me.

Surviving the steps I swing open the door with a creek.

There is not one piece of furniture in the house, devoid of all things that once gave it life as if the person who left it stripped away it's soul. Now it's an empty shell of the place it used to be.

Walking in further, I shut my lungs off. If I breathe I'll be sneezing like a flu infested creature considering the dust that drowns everything.

To my right is a staircase that leads to the second story. To my left, a kitchen and, I'm guessing, a once upon a time lounge room.

Once in the kitchen I turn on a tap. My eyes widen as water comes out. Turning the nob to hot, the water slightly increases in temperature, barely enough to pass as warm, but still. In a house that can scarcely hold up its own walls, running water is quite the component.

And by the looks of things, I've got some cleaning to do.

I love abandoned houses but sleeping on a rat shit covered floor is not something that appeals to me.

Turning off the tap, I crack my knuckles. Time to renovate this fucker.

***

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