It was not the biggest or most fearsome demon Alex had ever encountered, but it would do. Hovering over the freezers in the Gas-n-Gulp, its bat-like wings banged into the convenience store walls, sending drywall and wood splinters flying everywhere. The demon screamed in anger and pain, spewing out short fiery bursts from his (or its) mouth, torching the chips rack and searing the magazine section.
“Nasty beastie,” Alex tried his dead-on Sean Connery accent, “why are ya so far from the great flaming pit?” The voice amused him, as little else did about his job: demon hunter. It didn’t pay very well, or very consistently, either. And no one remembered you at Christmas time, or even Halloween, which at least would have been appropriate.
The flapping demon lunged down at Alex, who magically created a gleaming all-purpose protection shield. Hellish flames blasted it hard, but it held. Alex wiped the sweat from his forehead and remarked, as Rodney Dangerfield, “No respect; I don’t get no respect at all.”
Alex made it snow inside the Gas-n-Gulp, cooling things down quickly, putting out the numerous small fires and apparently hurting the demon something awful. The creature shrieked like the damned soul it (Alex decided that the demon was definitely an it, which might explain the constant rage) probably spent its days torturing. As its wings iced up, it fell to the floor like an overstuffed sofa from the back of a speeding pickup.
Thrashing about on the now wet and very slippery floor, the demon tried uselessly to stand up. Brimstone and burning embers exploded from the demon’s spaded tail, horns and claws as it roared and rolled about furiously. “Goodness, what a smell of sulfur,” Alex channeled Glinda the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz as he transformed the flying flaming nuggets into flowers that fell lightly on the drifting snow.
Then Alex cast a spell of confinement bonds around the demon, tussling it up from horned head to cloven hooves, one demonic package ready for UPS (Universal Pickup of Scorchers). “Well, pilgrim, that should teach you not to go messing around where you don’t belong,” Alex quoted in authentic John Wayne cadences.
Dazed customers, who had been hiding behind displays and under counters, stood hesitantly up unsure of what they had just witnessed. Ankle-deep in snow with flowers on their shoulders and heads, they were too stunned to speak.
All except for one very attractive young lady. She gave Alex a serious hug and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for saving me. For saving all of us,” she cooed breathlessly, batting her big baby blues at him. “I’m Tawny. You know, you’re sort of cute; do you have a girlfriend?”
Maybe Christmas was coming early this year. After all, it was snowing, if only in the Gas-n-Gulp. Maybe Alex was wrong about his job. Maybe it wasn’t all bad.
So Alex, arm-in-arm with Tawny and dragging the bound, cursing demon behind them, just had to imitate Bogie as they left the Gas-n-Gulp; “This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Rod Drake watched too much television growing up, which obviously warped his imagination. Check out Rod’s other stories published in Flashing in the Gutters, Fictional Musings, Flash Flooding, Flash Forward, MicroHorror, Six Sentences and AcmeShorts.
Very cool. The guys saves the day AND gets the girl. Nice one Rod.