Up the road about half a mile I finally find a clothing store and step inside. I quickly look around and take in my surroundings. I see the standard fare for a clothing shop, a woman's section, men's section, child's, and even a section for baby clothes, all of which carry the latest trends.
Despite the normal appearance of the place, I still can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched, a feeling that has persisted since it started up earlier. Continuing to look around, I can't see anything watching me, and so I start wandering the store, getting an eyeful of the latest merchandise the place offers. The clothing for men was nice, but not overpriced, and take my time picking through them. Taking my time and enjoying the shirts I am gazing at, just being a normal, non-smoke-imbued person. While I look, I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn to see an employee of the store approaching.
"Can I help you find anything today, sir?" The man asks. He looks to be in his mid-20s, with short spiked hair and a thick pair of glasses resting on his nose. He has light facial hair, just a thin mustache sitting on top of his lip, partnered with a soul patch. His name badge reads "Bradley."
"Nah, I'm just finding something I like." I point to the shirt I'm wearing. "I recently lost a lot of weight, and I need something smaller than this."
Bradley gives me a strange look when he learns that this the shirt I've "chosen" to wear despite it being two sizes too big.
"Sometimes I like to wear this shirt because it reminds me of the hard work I've put in to get rid of that weight. It helps to avoid cravings when I have them, and let me tell you, today has been chock full of them. Hell, I was at the beach earlier and I thought about going through some people's stuff just to get a damn Star Crunch..." I force a genuine sounding laugh, and Bradley lets out a light chuckle before turning to walk away.
"Okay, sir, well if you need anything, my name is Bradley, and I would be happy to assist you."
"Thank you, Bradley."
I continue my examination of the clothing rack but I unfortunately can't find anything that I like, and so I move on to the next one, hoping to find something. I again hear footsteps behind me, and when I turn, Bradley is once again standing there, his face smiling that creepy fake smile that all customer service employees are forced to wear. In this moment I realize just how creepy that damn smile is., and I find myself wondering if my own fake smile looked that weird or if it was just a talent he has.
"Would you like any help, sir? Maybe an extra set of eyes will help you to find what you're looking for?"
"I'm good, Bradley, but again thanks. I will let you know if I need you for anything."
"Okay, I'll be around here for a while yet. Take care, Erik."
A look of shock crosses my face. "What did you say?" I asked, wanting to be sure I heard right.
"I said that I would be around here for a while, then I said take care, sir." Bradley replies; clearly confused at my inquiry combined with the face I was currently making toward him.
"Yeah, but you called me by my name, you called me Erik! How did you know my name?"
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I didn't say any name." Bradley's fake smile is now gone, and it appears as though he is starting to get annoyed by insistence that he said what I thought I heard.
"I'm sorry, I must be hearing things..." I reply slowly. "Anyway, you go do what Bradley's do best, and I will be here looking."
"Okay, sir, will do." Bradley casts me a backward glance, and under his breath I swear I hear him mutter "weirdo," but I can't be sure. Either way, I turn my attention back to the rack and continue looking. Finally, I find a decent looking button up shirt that I like and I decide I am going to try it on but I want to try to find more, so I keep looking.
I find a few more shirts that I like on this rack before moving on to another one. This one has a few more shirts, these ones being graphic tees, and as I look through them I hear Bradley's now more than familiar footsteps behind me, yet again. I sigh quietly to myself, just wishing that this dude would leave me the hell alone. It's starting to get to the point where I'd rather just report back to Order and Chaos. Without turning to look at him I speak.
"Hello again, Bradley."
From behind me comes nothing but silence, and for a moment I think that I was wrong about someone being behind me. I stand and turn, and am immediately creeped out by Bradley's wide-toothed grin and slightly cocked head, making him look insane. When he does finally speak, his voice is surprising normal for the face he's making.
"Hello again, sir. I am sorry to be bugging you as much as I am, but I was wondering if-"
"No, Bradley- can I call you Brad?" He nods after I ask. "Brad, I am grateful for your offer of help, I really am. But as you can see, I have this pretty much handled. Again, thanks, but no thanks."
Brad's smile stays, but he cocks his head to the other side before he replies. "Got it sir, I'll be around."
I sigh again once Brad is gone, shaking off the creeps he gave me with that weird ass smile. I feel like something is watching me, but when I look around, I see Brad with another customer, meaning it couldn't be him. I'm just glad that weird smile is gone from his face, honestly. Still, I can't help but feel as though I'm being viewed by something invisible, but I continue to try to ignore the growing sense while looking through the clothing rack.
I find two more graphic tees and one more button-up, and I decide it's time to try them on. Looking around the store, I see the dressing rooms are toward the back, and so I head in that direction. Unease continues to settle over me as I get closer to the room, and I get the chills when I look around and I see Brad looking at me. That weird smile is plastered on his face again, head cocked more to the side than before, and his eyes as wide as could be. I think I even see him twitch a few times. I don't know what's going on, but I need to get out of here as soon as possible.
Reaching the dressing room, I ask the clerk to let me into one to try the shirts on. The woman is nice, an older lady, maybe in her late 50s to mid-60s with a full head of white hair and a grandmotherly smile that managed to be somewhat calming to my impending dread.
"Sure thing, honey!" She says sweetly, and I know her smile is genuine. "How many shirts are you bringing in? I really don't mind, but it's policy. We have to log it for inventory to be sure nothing that goes outta here leaves without being paid for."
"I have four, ma'am," I smile back at her, just as genuinely. "Two long sleeve button-ups and two graphic tees, if that matters."
"It doesn't, but I thank you anyway, young man. My name is Doris, and if you remember anything off of the rack that you would like to try on while you're in there let me know and I will scurry on over there and get it for you!"
"Thank you, Doris. If you don't mind though, I'll stick to ma'am." I say back to her, thinking to myself that this woman is an absolute dear to talk to. It isn't often that you manage to find a genuinely nice person in the world, let alone one that is willing to go out of their way to help you.
Doris leads me to dressing room number four, turns her key in the lock, and opens the door, that calming smile on her face the whole time. Once more she states that if I need anything just to ask and she would be happy to oblige.
When the door closes however, that sense of dread I felt earlier returns, now stronger than ever. My body automatically goes on guard and I look around, inspecting every nook and cranny in the booth I'm in, finding nothing. I don't just feel creeped out, I feel cramped and trapped. I force myself to breath and remain calm, instead focusing on removing my kind of stolen shirt. My apprehension reaches its peak when I once again hear Brad, this time talking to Doris.
"Hey Doris, Molly was looking for you. Said something about needing to talk to you about hours? She sounded kinda strange, almost disappointed, like she didn't ant to talk to you, but had to. I'll hang out here till you get back."
"Oh, okay, Bradley." I could hear that the smile was gone in her voice and in a way she sounded to be almost as creeped out by him as I was. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Here are the keys; there's a gentleman in room four. If you wouldn't mind, would you take those discarded clothes back to their racks?"
"Sure thing."
"Thanks, see you shortly."
I hear poor Doris walk away, and I hope that Brad was lying to her. Being such a pleasant woman, she wouldn't warrant less hours, but more. More importantly, my "spider-sense" was definitely tingling now, and my body was at full alert. A moment later, I hear Brad approaching my door.
"Is everything alright in there, sir?" His voice is distorted now, sounding muffled and hollow.
"I'm fine, just trying those clothes on..." I say, masking the panic behind my voice.
"Are you sure, sir? I could help still..." He lets out an eerie chuckle before continuing. "I can come in there and I can help you put those shirts on... I can cut them off of you too!!"
My panic again peaks, and I summon smoke around my arms just in time for the door to burst open, exposing me in all of my lack of shirtless glory to the world. Looking at Brad, I would've yelled out for him to get help if I hadn't met Order and Chaos and learned about the existence of demons and shit. His body is twisted and contorted; his face turned almost all the way upside down. His neck is obviously broken now, but even though he still has that smile and wide eyes on his face. His arms are bent at an unnatural angle and seemed to have a few extra joints on them, causing the arm bones all to be snapped. Brad's knees are bent backward, and he is crouched there, not even a hint of pain on his face. I take all of this in in a split second, and the next, all hell breaks loose.
Bradley lets loose a demonic wail as he lunges at me. Instinctively, I raise my arms to block and he crashes into me, slamming me into the back wall of the fitting booth. I hit the wall with such force that the air is instantly knocked out of my lungs and my vision gets blurry. Brad's hands, once normal, have since had the fingers become just as broken and distorted as the rest of his limbs. The tips of the digits now bear sharp, broken claws, spitting off and away from the main hand. The strength behind his attacks is immense, and with each strike I feel myself being thrust through the wall behind me.
I feel as though I am going to collapse inward, and the Brad-thing's attacks only increase in strength and speed as he continues attacking, laughing madly as he does. Swipe after swipe, the smoke and fog around my arms gets taken away quicker than it can regenerate. If I don't do something quickly, he will be slashing into my arm.
As fast as I can, I transfer all of the remaining fog from one arm to the other, allowing Brad to get a good swipe in on me. Blocking out the pain, I use my other smoke-covered arm to form a blade, stabbing it into Brad's abdomen. He lets out a wild scream and I shove him back hard, out of the fitting room. As he stumbles backward, he falls, landing hard on his back.
Watching him, my eyes go wide when I see black fingers emerge from the fresh wound on Brad's stomach. The fingers grow in length, growing closer together the further they get out of their source. A few moments later, the fingers connect to the hand of the thing inside of Bradley. The fingers fold down over one side of the gash, and a second later the fingers of yet another hand emerge from the opening. This time though, the fingers close over the other side.
I watch in terror as the hands push the wound wider, ripping Bradley's skin open. The gash tears open wider, and the cut gets longer, until it reaches from his belly button to his neck. I hear an ethereal laugh and I can't pull my eyes away from what is happening before me. The hands move away from the mess that used to be a person, planting themselves on the ground. The twisted arms strain and a shadowy form slowly emerges from the corpse. Just like the hands got longer, the torso that emerges continues to stretch, leading to hips, legs, and long, crooked feet. The beast now standing in front of me has to be almost 9 feet tall with a body that bends and twists at seemingly impossible angles.
The demon faces me, its face showing a look of pure evil and spite. Instinctively, I speak to the creature.
"Jesus Christ, do all of you just sit around retail places waiting to attack people? First a movie store then here? You lot must absolutely hate consumerism. What is it that is so offensive? I guess you guys have no money, but damn, that doesn't mean you have to take it out on this poor clothing."
"You think you're funny..." The beast states, his voice sounding hollow. "You won't be making jokes much longer..."
"Let me guess... You're gonna kill me? Rip my guts out and show them to me? Blah, blah, blah, different being with the same threat. You all sound like broken records by this point. I'm not afraid of you or your bosses..." I stand tall in the remains of the changing booth, and I surround myself with smoke, ready to put up a fight.
"Well, it seems as though you're confident in yourself... Let's see if you can back that up!"
The demon lunges at me, pushing me back into the booth and against the back wall. The wall gives way, and I hear a woman let out a scream. Looking over toward her, I see she was in the midst of trying on a new shirt. Quickly I look away as to not take in more than I already did and, facing the demon in my side of the booth, I speak to the woman indirectly.
"Sorry for the interruption ma'am, I'm with the security department and we are trying out new methods to prevent theft. We apologize for any inconvenience, and we do hope you'll pardon our intrusion. We will leave you to your clothing choices, and we sincerely hope you have a good day."
I stand and run into the demon, shoving him, trying to push it out of the booth. I form blades around my hands, slashing and stabbing at my opponent. Black wisps of smoke emerge from the wounds and seems to merge with my own. A brief look of panic comes over its face, soon replaced by anger and an absolute hatred directed toward me. In a frenzy, the beast grabs my wrist, swinging me around the store. When he lets go, I find myself flying through the air only to slam back first into the wall. I stand, dizzy, and I see the monster rush at me. Reflexively I put my hands up and point my blades forward at the last minute. The demon can't stop its momentum and its shoulders are pierced, causing it to let out a pain filled scream. Again, the smoke that departs from him joins me, and I feel myself getting stronger. I raise my foot placing it in the monster's abdomen, kicking it back. I observe that it looks smaller, but obviously still very deadly.
Smoke still seeping from the open gashes in its shoulders, once again the beast lurches at me, and is ready for my parry. Knocking one of its disfigured claws aside, I feel the other dig deeply into my right side, slashing across my abdomen and causing me to be the one grunting out of agony. Smoke emerges from the wound rather than blood I see the creature's eyes widen before it speaks.
"When he said you were like us, I hadn't realized how true that was..."
"More true than you realize buddy!" I say through gritted teeth. Summoning an ocean of clouds, I surround myself completely in a dense layer of fog, and I reform my blades into my own sharp claws. I run at the beast and repeat its slashes, taking smoke-filled chunks out of its arms. Getting angrier my slashes take more and more of its coal colored skin and the being becomes smaller and smaller.
It tries to fight back, and it gets a few hits, but my armor stops it all. Pushing the monster back, I continue my assault, reducing it down to less than half of my height before I finally stop.
"I will give you one chance, and one chance only." I say, dryly. "Go back to the brothers and tell them that if they leave me alone, there will be no noise from me. But if they keep sending things like you to attack me..." I stab my clawed hands into the wall by the demon's head. "No more of them will make it back..."
It lets out a humorless laugh, mocking my offer. "They hear everything, you idiot. Sending me back to them will serve no purpose. So thanks, but go fuck yourself."
I let out a heavy sigh before I take my other clawed hand and shove it through the neck of the demon, severing its head and killing it.
"I tried to let him live... I really did... Why does everything have to be so damn stubborn?"
Going back for the shirts I tried on earlier, I scoop them up and head back to the cash register. I pull a $50 bill from my wallet and I set it on the counter. Looking at the terrified cashier, I can't help but make a joke.
"Man, talk about terrible inner demons, poor thing tore Bradley a new one." I look down at the bill. "Keep the change."
Taking the shirts, I walk out of the store. I hurt, but I know one thing for certain. Nowhere is safe.