Getting Out Alive
Chapter 1

“Happy birthday, kid,” Dad ruffled my hair as he handed me a poorly wrapped present. Dad was never very good with his hand unless you count throwing a sledge hammers in a wall at work then he was your man.
“Thanks dad,” I pulled the red birthday paper away, revealing a book. The cover read “A World of Demons,” another item to add to my demon fantasy collection. I loved demons; I loved how some had powers. “Wow this is so cool,” there where three to four page descriptions of demons all over the world.
But I wasn’t given much time to admire my new book before he spoke, “Wow, fifteen,” he looked up with tears in his eyes and a smile hidden behind his red Irish beard. “Your mom would be so proud.
He’d said that same line for the past four years except each year the number went up by one.

It was hard on us after mom died in the fire, it happened in the middle of the night; I barely had time to get out myself. He blames himself for her death and still hates the sight of even a small flame. Part of the reason I agreed to quit smoking after we moved, the sight of the lighter made him crazier than the nicotine swimming in my blood. But I still miss it, I quit after we moved a couple of months ago from Florida. Haven isn’t exactly the place someone who loved the Florida weather would want to live.

I hated living in Main but on the first day of school, I decided there was no setting out of it, so I dragged myself out of bed. The air was cool; I could even see my breath, looking forward to the pot of coffee waiting for me in the kitchen.

“Good morning, David. You know you’ll never grow drinking that,” Dad welcomed me as I reached for a mug. As always he was already in his boots and Dickies ready for work at six A.M.

“Not if you drink it all before I get up,” I looked grumpily at the half pot of coffee.

He just shook his head and started to walk out of the room before stopping and grapping my face in a large, callused hand, examining it. “Um, dad? What are you doing?” He just gave me a “not bad” expression.

“Your beard is almost as big as mine. You’re becoming a man, son.”

I laughed as I pulled away and replied, “Thank you, sir.” He smiled and walked out to he’s old beat up truck, stopping at the door to say, “Have fun on your first day of high school.”

High school. It was here at last as I began my walk at seven thirty. The streets of Haven where dark and cold with leaves scattered everywhere. I would have done anything not to live in Main where it was cold as hell. I wished I could have been back in Florid with my friends waiting in the tool shed behind the gym. They’d all have fresh packs of stokes, sharing stories of their summer break. Ben would have slept with at least three girls; Mirak would have taken a trip home to Ireland explaining how the postcards got “lost” in the mail. And Ashley would be looking gorgeous as ever with short, slightly curly hair tickling her shoulders and bold brown eyes hiding behind yellow sunglasses, smiling with those devious lips as she gently blow the smoke into the air around her.

The school approached my view, hundreds of students crammed into the single story building. A group of muscle addict guys drank sports drinks with arms hung around girls like assories. The dark haired, black finger-nailed cuddled with themselves. Just like what my middle school pretended to be.
There was one guy though, he was by himself but didn’t look like a freshman. His black hat was pulled low, hiding his eyes but I knew where they lay, on me. What struck me most odd was hid black t-shirt. But the cold didn’t seem to bother him.

He was strange but the bell rang so I trudged up the stairs to be greeted by an uncomfortably large crowd full of scared, uninformed and confused freshmen. Slowly, we made our way into an auditorium where we were given a two hour long speech on drugs, alcohol, good grades and guns. Just as my mind reached the end of sanity we were shuffled class to class. At the end of the day I had chemistry with Mr. Greshem.

I walked into the room where a deep, gruff voice spoke from just too far left of my vision, “Who are you?” I turned to find a short man with a sloppy tie, shaggy black hair with a great abundance of gray, with a stubble that looked like it hadn’t seen a razor in a few days and overall extreme lack of personal hygiene. I made a personal note to keep a distance. He also had a silver chain around his neck with a small gold ring. “Well? C’mon kid, we don’t have all day. Are you special? No one told me a special kid was going to be in my class,” he looked displeased at me.

“Uh, no sir. It’s David.”

“Back row on the left,” as the bell rang he began his version of an inspirational speech just as the other teachers had done. “Okay, sit down, be quiet, blah, blah, blah,” he half-heartedly demanded. “I’ve got two rules,” he held up two fingers, “shut up unless you have something of interest to say and don’t be dumb with the equipment. Too many cuts and burns and blown limbs last year.” He put his elbows on his desk and gestured to towards a desk in the front, “There’s a stack of forms on the desk up front, get them after class, you’re all capable of reading them yourselves. Get ‘em signed and returned by tomorrow, blah, blah.”

He began a more formal seating arrangement; I was next to Jack at the lab tables. When he finished there was an empty stool next to me so I figured he was one of the sane people who skipped the first day of school. Outside dark clouds began to roll in, specks of rain hit the window.

But about twenty minutes into class we were learning how to use the equipment when I saw that black hat from this morning. He came in carrying a text book in one hand and a not in the other which he handed to Greshem. He was average height with black hair poking out from under his hat. His dark shirt matched his dark blue jeans and Converse.

He exchanged a few words with Greshem until he pointed the guy into my direction. I put my head down, adjusting the tubes in the rack.

“Name, was all he said as he sat on the stool next to me.

“Are you Jack?”

“Name,” he demanded more forcefully.

“Uh, David. Nice to meet you,” I poked a hand in his direction but he ignored it.

“Estupido jovenzuelo,” he mumbled as he lit a Bunsen burner on the first try which took me several attempts with success.

“I take it you’re not freshmen eh? I can speak Spanish too and I’m sure I’m not that much younger than you.”

“I was never your age, David,” that’s when I noticed the scar. It stretched four inches out and was puffy, meaning it was probably infected before it healed. It arced slightly on the inside of his forearm.

He lowered his arm down to his side hiding the gruesome mark of an untold time. Before I could ask how it came to be he spoke, “This year you will wear a pink polo, loose someone important and slay a beast.”

The bell rang leaving me with a sense of confusion. He grabbed his text book and walked away leaving me with an interesting first day of high school. As I gathered my supplies I noticed Greshem take a long drink form a flask.

“He wasn’t always like that,” I turned to find a girl standing behind me. “I think it was two years ago he got a divorce. Really loved the girl too. Since then he’s been a wreck. Drinks a lot, he even wears his wedding ring around his neck still.”
“Hey!” Greshem called from the front of the room. “Get the hell out! Go home for Christ sakes schools out!”

“Sorry, I gotta go.” She quickly hurried out of the room. I left shortly after.

As I got home, Dad pulled into the driveway.

“Hey Dave! How was school? Make any friends?

I thought back to Jack and his weird prophecy about pink polo’s and beast slaying. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he looked confused as he climbed out of the truck.

“Nothing. What’s for dinner?”

“I was thinking we could order a pizza, celebrate your first day. What do you think?”

Scoffing at his question I remarked, “I think that’d be okay.”

Three weeks into the new school year the newspaper club published their first paper. The Haven High School paper wasn’t much a couple articles on the fall sports team, some reports on the school clubs, an entire page dedicated to poor comics. On the back page was a picture of a middle aged woman with the title “Welcome New Drama Teacher!” printed above it. There was an interview between a student and the new Mrs. Swanson.

She announced the drama department was doing a play, Shakesphere’s Hamlet and auditions would start next week. Next Friday I showed up at 3:30 to audition for the roll of the king, Claudius, an important role but not the star. I had some acting experience in middle school and figured it wouldn’t be too hard.

Mrs. Swanson wanted to test my dialogue performance by having me perform the beginning of Act 2 sc. 2. With my best king voice which sounded like a horrible French accent I began, “Weeeelcome! Dear Rosencrantz and Guldenstern! Moreover that we much long ago did to see you!” after each line I forced my voice up to sound like a dramatic king. “The need we have to use you-“

“Stop! Stop!” Swanson interrupted. “You sound like a French maid being strangled while she struggles to sing! Get off the stage; you’re not getting the part. Out.”

“Um, okay,” I sauntered off the stage with my head hung low.

As I began my walk home I heard a familiar voice call my name. “David!” I turn to find Jack jogging toward me. He was wearing the usual black t-shirt and hat. He also had got a messenger bag around his shoulder. When he reaches me he pulls the bag off his shoulder and starts digging until he finds what he’s looking for. “Where I come from, I worked a lot, but I always made time for this.” He tosses me a black shirt. On the back in big white block letters it read “STAGE HAND.” If you’re interested we start next week building props.”

“Thanks, yeah I’ll be there.”

“Good, I could use your help. It’s from four thirty to six so expect to be home late,” I guess if I couldn’t be in the play I could just work backstage.

A car honked a few yards away, interrupting my thoughts, “Hey, kid.” Mr. Greshem yelled from a rusty pickup truck that sounded like a dying seal. “Want a ride?” I knew getting in a car with a known alcoholic wouldn’t be the greatest idea, but I looked up at the sky sand saw the clouds turn dark threatening to drench me on the walk home.

“Yeah, sure.” I got into the poor tortured seal, making sure the seat belt was secured.

“Cindy’s right y’know?”

“Who?”

“Mrs. Swanson. You sounded like a b**** getting strangled.”

“Gee thanks, Mr. Greshem. How’d you know that anyway?”

“My wife used to love the theater, after the divorce I started sneaking in to watch the kids rehearse.”

“Oh, well I’m just going to work backstage as a stage hand see.” I held up my shirt with STAGE HAND written across the back.

“Yeah, Jack’s doing that too. You boy’s friends?”

“Oh no, he’s just my partner. He’s kind of strange.” He fiddled with the radio, an unfamiliar song buzzed through static.

“Yeah, hell of a kid though. Did you know he can speak seven languages?”

“No, I didn’t. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah, I think his native language is Russian. That’s where he’s from, just moved here over the summer.”

“Really?” I didn’t know why but I suddenly felt very suspicious of him and wanted to know more about Jack.

“S***!” Greshem began to swerve just missing a small child running out into the road. My head slammed against the window.

“Jimmy!” a woman’s shriek nearly busted my ears as I rubbed my temple.

“S***, here hide this.” He tossed his open flask at my chest. Booze stained the red cotton. “I don’t want her knowing I’m drunk.” He rushed to go meet the woman. I spit on the STAGE HAND t-shirt and began rubbing the booze stain. After many apologies for both parties he got back in his seat. He fished around and pulled a duffle bag from behind the seat. From inside he pulled a polo. I gave up scrubbing the stain. “Here it’s my son’s but I don’t think he’ll mind. Hope you like pink.”

I accepted the pink polo, switching it out for the booze stained shirt. “Thanks, I live just a couple blocks from here on Oakland Street.”

“I noticed your grade is dropping a bit,” he said as he restarted the truck. “If you need help I’m free after school. Most students don’t really like me much so I’m free if you need a tutor.”

“Oh yeah. That’d by great. Jack isn’t really up for studying outside of class.”

“Well we’ve got a test Friday, come in Monday and I’ll make sure you’re prepared.” He took the flask back taking a drink then stuffed it in the glove compartment.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” I said as we pulled into the driveway, “Thanks for the ride Mr. Greshem.”

“Yeah, hey don’t forget your shirt,” he handed the shirt Jack gave me. “Do me a favor, give Jack a chance eh?”

Before I could think of an appropriate answer he pulled out of the driveway, driving away in a cloud of his pollution.

I saw dad paying for another pizza as I came up the front porch. The pizza guy thanked him for the tip and turned to leave. I first noticed the scar on his arm, “Nice shirt,” he smirked under his hat. I thought back to the first day of school.

“This year you will wear a pink polo, slay a beast and loose someone important.”

“Not really my style.”


On Monday morning I arrived late to school, Dad’s truck was having problems and needed an extra hand to fix it. Someone dumped nails in the road which popped all four tires resulting in a very angry Irish man.

He dropped me off in front of the school with a note to give to Ms. Gomez, my old Spanish teacher that looked down on us and constantly cursed the white people and expected the few brown students to exceed in here class. Needless to say she was racist. I grabbed my Spanish book from my locker taking a good look at the picture of my friends back in Florida, Mirak was flipping the bird at the camera, Ashley was posing with her cigarette and Ben was kissing a blonde girl in a cheerleader uniform on the cheek. I smiled at the memory of the warm Florida sun, hanging out in the toolshed, talking about how we were going to take over the world someday.

I sighed as I slowly closed my locker until heard the click. I was more than a little surprised when I turned to find her leaning against a locker just three away from mine. She had the same devious grin I’d always remember, her brown hair curled down to her shoulders, the left side hid a cigarette behind her ear, a Camel wide, my favorite.

She pushed her yellow sun glasses up on her head revealing deep coffee brown eyes, “Ashley?” I whispered.

“Hey David,” she sang. The sweet voice I missed swung like a swing in mid-spring in my ears. “Miss me?”

“Oh my god! Yes!” she hugged me tightly as I asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I talked my mom into letting me come up. Let me tell you, it was not easy.” She searched the ceiling; a smoke detector check, and then pulled the cigarette from behind her ear.

“I shouldn’t, I quit for dad.”

“Still doesn’t like fire huh? C’mon just one, you know you miss it,” she smiled that same devious smile again.

“Okay, just one,” she handed the cigarette and a lighter from her pocket. The cling of the zippo was music to my ears, the faint sizzle as the flame hit the paper wrapped around the tobacco. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” but I took a deep breath, sucking the nicotine into my body, feeling the high go straight to my head from so many months without. I blew the smoke out in a long stream.

“Put it out, David,” a voice warned from down the hall.

“I turned to find the person I least expected, “Jack?”

“Who’s this?” Ashley questioned, “Make a new friend, David?”

“David, get away from her now.” He demanded.

“Dude, it’s cool this is my friend Ashley, from Florida,” Ashley smiled and gave him a little wave.

“Hi Jack.”

Slowly he approached us, “Mamu, or is it Gugar now. Leave this one alone.”



“A Hunter eh?” now I was confused.

“Do you know him? What the hell is a Mamu?” I demanded.

“How’d you find me Hunter?”

Jack let out a whistle and a furry snout trotted out from behind the corner. The owner of the snout stopped at he is side and let out a low growl, its brown eyes resting on Ashley.

“Hey! Keep your dog under control!” I stepped in front of Ashley ready to guard her.

“Ah, your mutt, I remember him. Jefferson right?” she began to sway around me as she walked toward him. I don’t know what they were talking about but Jack was not stealing the girl I’ve been in love with since the day on met her on the first day of sixth grade. I took a deep drag and tossed the cigarette.

“What the hell is going on? I demanded again.

Jack shoved me away from him with one arm knocking me into a locker nearly shattering my skull.

“I guess this is where things get interesting,” she whimpered. In just a couple minutes she had gone from the sweet girl I knew from school to a seductive teenager who knew my chemistry partner. “Excellent,” she growled.

“Jeff, attack,” with one simple word from Jack the giant Saint Bernard lunged at Ashley. But instead of falling under the weight of the dog she swung a closed fist out striking the dog in the snout. A soft yelp erupted from the canine. She turned her head revealing a twisted smile with dark red fangs. This was not Ashley anymore.

“David! Run!” I rubbed the back of my head trying to block out the pain from him pushing me into the locker.

I couldn’t run though, I was frozen in terror at the sight of those fangs. He stretched his arms out, snapped his fingers creating a small flame in each hand that grew. He began to throw the balls of fire like baseballs at the girl who had changed into a flesh eating monster.

I thought back to dad’s birthday present, A World of Demons. Suddenly I knew what Jack was talking about, The Mamu also called Gugar. They were adept shape-shifters that, in their natural from, could be described as very tall, with pointed heads and bloody fanged teeth. Dogs can sense them and will bark if they sense them. They fear fire, in legends children were told not to leave the circle of fire for obvious reasons.

The monster let out a screech as one of his flames hit it square in the chest. It gave another shriek. Jack held up his hand ready to throw another but it ran away, “Jefferson, stay,” the dog had picked himself up whimpering at his masters command.

“What the hell?” I choked out.

He sighed, “That was the Ma-“

“Yeah, I know what that was but they’re not real.”

“Yes, it was. That was a demon, David. I’m a demon hunter. Before one is named Hunter they are given a gift. Mine was ability to see into the future and fire. It’s rare to be given two gifts but personally I don’t consider the mind splitting migraines a gift,” he snarled. “Here,” he handed me a scorched text book. “Go to class, I’ll explain more after school in the auditorium.”

I tried to argue but it was pointless, so I did what he said. Ms. Gomez gave me a glare when I arrived. I tried to pretend it was all a haucintation, I was simply going through depression due to lack of friends and was seeing things now but the image of Ashley turning into that demon and the fire in jack’s hand was all too much. He scared me, to be honest, after much time not paying attention to Gomez talk about body parts I cam to a decision. Jack was not to be trusted, but I was still curious.

“Hey David,” Mr. Greshem grunted as he dropped his flask in the bottom drawer of his desk.

“I’m here to study, for the test,” I sighed.

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah, just had a weird day,” I rubbed my eyes suddenly very tired of trying to keep up with all my thoughts.

“Ah, I know those,” but he had no idea. At least not like mine. He pushed away from his desk, his desk chair spun towards the table in the front.

I pulled my textbook from my old beat up backpack. With a soft thump it hit the table. When I opened the cover he stopped me, “Hey, let me see that,” he looked at the inside cover to all the names, “You have Kristine Patons book.”

“Old student of yours?”

“Yea, I had her six years ago. There was a terrible accident though,” he rubbed his grayish beard.

“What happened?”

“There was a lab accident, her and here partner where killed. Sometimes at night, when I work late, I can hear her.” He whispered.

“Really?” I mused. “What does she say?”

“Oh, she doesn’t say anything. She hums. It’s oddly comforting.”

“I don’t think she hums, Mr. Greshem. I think you just drink.” I smiled to show I meant no disrespect.

He snapped his head back in his chair and let out a bellowing laugh. Between tears he said, “You’re probably right, David.”

I flipped to chapter two on solubility and concentration. “I swear I’m a cursed soul,” he said smiling, shaking his head. He ran his hand through his shaggy hair. “Look at me I’m a looser.”

“I don’t think you’re a looser. I think you went through and hard thing and you’re still struggling. You drink in hopes to feel better,” I needed to shut up before he got really upset.

But he closed his eyes and smiled, thinking of a happier time in his life. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said opening his eyes.

“I know you’re sad, believe me I’ve had my share of loses. But you’re a great man, Mr. Greshem.

“Maybe,” he flipped through the book. “Oh s***,” he closed my book. “I just remembered. Jack wanted to see you after school.”

“Jack?”

“Yeah, he said he needs to talk to you and it’s urgent. We’ll have to study tomorrow. He’s in the auditorium.


“Yeah okay,” I mumbled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

My locker had a black scorched mark across the bottom. I ran my fingers across it turned my fingertips black. Quickly spinning the lock and pulling out my STAGE HAND shirt I slammed the door shut making my way to the auditorium.

“Put the shirt on, it’ll make the janitors leave us alone,” Jack commanded as I walked in, handing me a paint bucket with a brush sticking out.

“You canceled my session with Greshem to paint a set?” I asked angrily.

“No, to be honest I was trying to act normal for you. Finding out about demons can’t be easy.” He admitted.

“Look, I don’t know what that was but I want nothing to do with it,” I lied. It scared me, yes, but it also fascinated me. Demons where actually real and I was a little jealous that he got to not only know about them but also slay them.

“Then I’ll kill you.”

“What?”

“Well I can’t have civilians knowing about them. You can see how that might be a problem,” but he made no act of aggression to hurt me.

“Look, you’re a freak, okay?” jealousy ripped through as though it where a demon itself. I was really hoping to get this over with quickly, unsure how long I could keep lying.

“Please, David,” he begged. “One of the rules I have to follow is destroying any evidence of a demon to avoid suspicion; I can’t have you just going around with that kind of knowledge. They’ll kill me, you, and your family.”

“Is that a threat?” I demanded.

“No, it’s a warning.” He whispered as he lowered his head.



Three days later they tested fire alarms during school hours, there should be a law or something against this. The teachers gave up their lessons due to an ear breaking buzzing every five minutes. I stopped speaking to Jack out of fear but often had to fight the urge to have him tell me all about real demons. I threw the STAGE HAND t- shirt in the bottom of my locker until I decided what to do with it.

As seventh period started Mr. Greshem was beyond drunk and had had enough with the alarms. He slumped low in his chair and stared at the picture on his desk. “Damn kids. I hate ‘em all,” he mumbled.

“Mr. Greshem? A student asked. “You okay?”

Another bell rang which pushed Greshem off the ledge. “You bastards!” he started yelling. “you naive little bastards! Think you know everything there is to know!”

“Uh, no sir. That’s why we’re here, to learn,” another student retorted.

Greshem let out a snicker, “To learn? To learn, to learn, to learn. To learn!” he grabbed the closest empty chair and chucked it toward the chalkboard. The chair ricocheted of the board with a clang; as the next alarm buzzed it hit the floor, leaving a large crack in the board. The room fell silent as Greshem seethed through his teeth. He slammed back down in his chair, hiding his face in his hands, “S***,” he mumbled.

A couple minutes’ later two hall monitors came in asking everyone to go to the cafeteria. My tutor had just gotten fired. They allowed me to stay behind and help pack his desk up. “I’ll miss you Mr. Greshem,” I said, hopelessly trying to make him feel better. I handed him a photo of a woman, probably his ex-wife to him.

“It was only a matter of time-“suddenly a loud explosion came from the classroom across the hall. The force of the blast pushed us across the room. My head struck a fire extinguisher with an excruciating pain my vision blurred, and then my world went black.

“David! David! David wake up,” the stench of sweat and liquor filled me. My head hurt like hell, sweat poured down from my temple as the heat radiated from all around me.

Slowly my eyes fluttered open to see Greshem standing over me with a red halo around him. Confused I lifted my head to see the room engulfed in flames. He helped me to my feet sending a thunderous pounding to my head from the fire extinguisher. I tried to reach for it but he said it was no use; the fire was out of control. “C’mon kid, we gotta get out of her,” he looked around as I got to my feet. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled.

Everywhere I looked hot flames burned destroying everything in their path, it seemed I’d only been out a moment. No seemed to be around, hopefully they’d all gotten out. The smoke choked us and scorched my lungs. I thought how I’d never smoke another cigarette again after this. Greshem shoved me out the door and we began to run through the halls, dodging flames that tried to stop us. From the ceiling fell chunks of cement and plaster, blocking our direct path to the door. The fire was getting the best of the school, from the looks of the flames it wasn’t going to hold up much longer.


Then, a bark came from behind us. Greshem looks at me with knitted eyebrows. The bark bellowed again from behind us, “C’mon now, we don’t have all day do we?” Jack said standing next to his giant demon eating Saint Bernard. We pushed through; I noticed long cracks on the ceilings, threatening to cave us in.

The flames found gas tanks in the chemistry because from behind us another explosion, bigger than the first erupted from the chemistry room. I clutched my pounding head as I fell to the floor, the ringing killed my head forcing me to stay on the floor. Images flooded my head all at once, Ashley’s laugh in the toolshed, Dad’s facial hair observation, Mr. Greshem nearly hitting a small kid with his truck. There was no stopping the images or anyway to get out of there. We were going to die a slow painful death as the flames licked us. The smell of roses hit me, I saw my mother again on the porch of our old house, her warm smile made my dray cracked lips form a smile too.

My warm dreams suddenly turned disturbing as the image of her face burned away from flames. She screamed as I did but it wasn’t from the image, pain seared through me like no other, the flames had begun eating away at my shoulder. Jack jumped at me, his dog barked over the ringing in my ears, he slapped violently at the flames until all that was left was a bloody mess called shoulder. Relief and more pain filled me as the flames extinguished from him slapping.

“I know it hurts!” Greshem yelled. “But we need to move!” we started running again when we heard the bone chilling crack pushing our eyes straight to the ceiling. The explosion had created the crack to grow even more, readying to crumble in. The door was just yards away, but just yards was to far for one of us. Jacks dog was already there yelping, trying to get us there. The cement began to crumble in as we gave every bit of energy we had getting to the doors. Sun seeped through the window from the outside begging us to get out. Jack pushed the handle but was greeted by the devil himself.

The door was locked. We turned to see the last glimpse of Mr. Greshem, more scarred than he’d ever been in his life, as the ceiling caved in on him, crushing my chemistry teacher to death. I starred in horror as the blood seeped through the cracks around my Converse. “No! no!” my eyes watered from the smoke and blood. Jack grabbed my arm pulling me toward our last chance of getting out alive. “No!” I fought but Jack was much stronger than me. Finally I gave in and followed him to our last exit. His dog trotted in front of us like a guide to the last door. I fell to my knees when I discovered it was surrounded by flames too big to get through.

But Jack wasn’t giving up like me, “David, catch!” he opened a box labeled EMERGENCY ONLY. Inside was a hose that he began unraveling, I held the end and waited for him to spin the handle releasing a gush of high powered water, after several minutes he cut the water; the strong hose went limp until all that was left was just a couple drops of water. Together with pushed the still hot doors open to the outside.


I sat at home a week later thinking about the day in the auditorium with Jack, then the fire in his hands. “One of the rules I have to follow is destroying any evidence of a demon to avoid suspicion.”

Could he have burned the school? Was the school evidence? Was he responsible for Mr. Greshem’s death? I squeezed my eyes shut pushing out the image of Mr. Greshem’s death from my mind.

“Dad, I’m going out,” I got up and grabbed my jacket. I biked to what used to Haven High, all the news reporters and firemen had left. Leaving a blackened building. I dropped the bike and pushed into the school, the smell of soot hit me instantly as I stepped in. ash smoothed out from beneath my DC’s. It was still hard to imagine that this was the same hallway I walked every morning to locker than to Spanish.

A half burnt sign still hung from the wall reading AUDITORIUM with a small arrow beneath it. Following the arrows direction I went down another hall until I saw the double doors. Inside was the same as everywhere else. He was wearing his STAGE HAND t-shirt with his back to me, painting a scorched wall. As the door swung shut behind me he turned to face me.

With a dark glare I walked toward him with a raging anger. Why was I so angry? I didn’t have any solid evidence against him but I just knew he was responsible and I had to bring him to justice.

Casually he stepped from the stage the ash silencing the five foot drop. “You! You killed Mr. Greshem! The room was so burn it only made the faintest echo.

“Now, David, calm down I know how this looks.”

“You bastard! I don’t care who you work for, you don’t have the right to burn down a school.”

“What? What makes you think that?”

“That day in the hall with Ashley, and then in here, you said you had to destroy any evidence of a demon. So you chose to destroy an entire school.”

“No David, I did not do this,” he spread his arms out gesturing to the burtness surrounding us. “That day in Mr. Greshem’s room, I was there right next to you.” I thought back very carefully, I hadn’t once thought back to before the fire until then. But sure enough the image of Jack entering the room and sitting next to me came back just before Greshem snapped.

“If it wasn’t you, who started it?”

“I don’t know, we may never know,” he looked around sadly at the destroyed auditorium.

After a long silence I spoke, “So, a demon hunter? Interesting.”

“Yes, it’s very interesting sometimes, sometimes not.”

“I can see that.”

He picked up his brush and from one of the charcoaled chairs he pulled a black t shirt with STAGE HAND printed across the back. “I retrieved this from your locker, thought you might need it.”

“Thanks,” I pulled the shirt on for the first time then asked, “What was the beast?”

“The what?”

“’This year you will wear a pink polo, loose someone important and slay a beast,’”

“Ah, the fire you put out at the door before we got out. How’s your shoulder doing?”

“Itches, but it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“That’s good.” We stepped onto the stage and he handed me a brush. Together we painted the burnt remains of Haven High.









“What do you mean they survived the fire!?” the Mamu stared down on the tommy knocker who shivered in fear in his minning uniform. Outside the shabby hotel, sirens wailed, dogs barked, even a mugging was occurring in the back alley. The room stank from the aroma coming from the demons recent dinner, a boy from a nearby park.

“I’m s-s-sorry master, it won’t happen again,” she picked up the small, brown wrinkled demon. He was the size of a toddler, but weighed more than any sumo wrestler in the world. With one hand she held him by the throat, forcing him to look into her deep brown eyes.

“I may not be able to kill you, but I can make your life a living hell,” she snarled. “I want that boy dead! Do you understand?”

The tommy knocker shook his head vigorously, “Yes, master. Whatever you say master.”

“Good,” she dropped the small demon. “I’m hungry again darling, bring me something.” Her red fangs dripped with saliva as the little demon ran from the hotel room. “So David,” she said looking out of the window, “going to play hard to get? Two can play that game.” She smiled an evil grin while she watched the small demon drag a small, helpless child into the alley.