Roger Marthan kept everyone stuck in place long after the demonspawn was gone. He stared at the distance with a grin stamped on his face. After a while, he started to chortle and cackle as if he’d won a majority stake on Apple from a scratch-off lottery ticket. He slapped the colonel’s back several times.
“She did it! She actually did it! True, the guy was on his last leg after being beaten up by you military guys but she finished the guy off! Oh, glorious!”
The demonspawn wasn’t a full-blown demon and had more weaknesses than he expected. The silver she used, for example, would do nothing against him but burned the spawn’s flesh.
The angered colonel moved his back away from the demon in disguise and snarled, “Why are you happy the girl killed your creature?”
“Because he was a throwaway, silly,” Roger slapped the officer’s cheek before the man could react. “Just a toy I grew bored and discarded. But the girl? The defiant look she gave me still makes my blubber shiver inside me. And I got her to make a deal with me. The first one is always the hardest, isn’t it, my dear colonel? Uh? Well, now I have a prize to collect, and toys to discard. I mean, you and your men. You’ve served your purpose. The [Priestess] is out of commission, the [Paladin] will take years to recover the magic he used here. Buh-Bye.”
Roger Marthan snapped his fingers and all the surviving military personnel in the area fell dead like ragdolls. He couldn’t kill people on his own (unless attacked first) as there were severe restrictions on his power but these soldiers had already sold their souls to him. And they no longer had a place in his grand plan. The demon drank the souls, dragging them to Hell through his conduit. Once he was done, he turned to the hero party huddled inside the [Paladin’s] bubble.
“You are free to go and I suggest you make yourselves scarce for now. Take your wounded, nurse them to health. I had a deal with Catherine and I’m honoring it, as any demon should.”
First Lieutenant Jack Murphy’s fists went white as he curled them into balls, ready to punch the demon. NYPD detective Martha Martinez held him back. “Don’t do it, Jack. It is what he wants. You punch him, he’s free to kill you. Not even Alice or Shinji at their best are more than fleas before him.” When she noticed he didn’t move, she barked, “It is above our pay grade, soldier. We got wounded here that need to get to a hospital. Get your priorities straight. Catherine is out there, alone. Move!”
Mentioning Catherine snapped him back to reality. He nodded but didn’t take his eyes from the grinning demon. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
Their armored car was totally destroyed in the fight. They left the fort riding on the wolves. Roger Marthan watched them go and shifted to the veiled sub-reality of the dead.
----------------------------------------
The man stood naked before a destroyed city block. Upturned cars, dead police officers. He had a vague recollection of what happened and what he did. He also knew he was dead but he didn’t feel bad for that. His worries linked to the material world were muted and a bygone thought. Until the demon showed up. Chunks of flesh and pools of congealed blood crawled from every corner of the spectral realm and joined together to create the most disgusting, fat, rotten, and stinky demon he’s ever seen. The first one, too.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” Rorgramathan clapped his bloated hands. “A rapist, murderer, terrorist, psychopath, sociopath, torturer, the whole seven sins in one muscle package!” The man cowed before the demon’s might and the knowledge of his fate. Rorgramathan had to hurry to get to him before any reapers showed up.
“What is going to happen to me?” He asked.
“Usually a grim reaper would come and escort you to your final destination, Hell in your case. However, we have a deal in place. Remember? Should the girl manage to kill you, you’d be mine. So, you are not going to Hell in order to be farmed for the magical power of your soul for all eternity. No, that would be too good for you. Instead, you are going to become part of me. Your soul will nurture and strengthen me, along with all the delicious souls you gathered while you rampaged through Cuba and half your own country. You murdered thousands, my dear pawn. And now, they’re all mine.”
Rorgramathan sped up the process and opened his maw wider than it would be physically possible. Stretching like a mutated snake ready to swallow an elephant, he chomped down on the soul. He warbled and trembled as the power of all the souls his little pet collected became trapped in the lard of his blubbery body. Small morsels of magical energy that would help him stay in the mortal world longer than he should. All according to plan.
Before he left, he looked down at the girl lying down, wounded. Once again he tried to collect her soul using his {Hellish Claim} ability and once more it inexplicably failed. That angered Rorgramathan to no small measure. It was supposed to be a quick and easy thing, pop in the mortal world, find a person, grab soul, go back home in less than an hour and enjoy his vacation. Now he had to stay here, trapped in the boorish mortal world, trying to find fun wherever he could. These Earth mortals had so little magic in them they weren’t worth the effort of collecting. He came just because he had no choice and he needed the “mission complete” seal on his record if he would have any hope of evolving.
He could sense the divine blessing placed on her. It was too weak to be the thing stopping him from claiming her soul but it was another bothersome unknown. The other two he could understand, they traveled to another world, gained power while in there, and brought the power back with them. But she never left this dimension. He had no idea how she survived but it must be related to this blessing.
Annoyed, the demon left her to her own luck. He would be around in case she expired but he doubted it. Her wounds were already closing.
----------------------------------------
Cat recovered her senses to the droning beep of the heart rate monitor. She felt the familiar IV in her hand and the oximeter clamping down on her finger. She opened her eyes and found herself in a hospital bed. She looked around and found a familiar face. Oliver McNamara was sitting next to her bed, holding her right hand.
“Rise and shine, Catherine,” the lawyer said with a soft voice. “How are you feeling?”
Closing her eyes, Cat mumbled to herself, [Are you there, buddy]?
[Me too.] She did a quick check of her own body by trying to move each part one at a time. Toes, left and right, knees, hands, elbows, waist, chest, face. She blinked and faced him again.
“I feel fine. Tell me, do I have any scars?”
“None. The doctors removed shrapnel from your face and stitched the wounds but the stitches are already gone. They doubted your eyes would heal but they seem to be perfect. Do you experience any artifact in your sight?”
She blinked and tried seeing through one eye at a time. “None. My vision is perfect.”
“Good. I’ll call the doctors then,” he made to stand up but she grasped his hand.
“Wait. Tell me, how screwed up am I this time?”
“Less than before but your infamy grew. Not to mention the authorities have to explain the demon brawling in the middle of Brooklyn. And the video of you blowing the demon’s head off is very, very popular on the web. It was on Youtube but it was removed for being too violent. It got two hundred million views in the first day before Google took it down.”
“Am I under custody again?”
“No. You have other problems now. I was very glad you had the presence of mind to request an audit of the trust fund. The trustee… slipped on his fiduciary duties and things escalated from there. Turns out a few banks were scraping money off of several trust funds and it blew up into a financial and judicial war.”
“And it all points to a certain cult with a stupid name, I bet.”
“Yes. Mr. Marthan is missing and the government has issued a bounty of ten million dollars on his whereabouts. He’s wanted for a lot of things, breaking into Guantanamo being the biggest among them. His cult was dissolved and everyone involved is being investigated. Fortunately, your mother and her Foundation were cleared of all suspicion due to impeccable bookkeeping.”
“Okay, stop beating around the bush. How screwed up I am?”
“Federal court put a lockdown on all your assets and trusts. Your personal trust, the dynasty trust, even the offshore trusts. The offshore trustee didn’t obey the distress and spendthrift provisions and obeyed the federal orders to lock down the assets. They ripped the Constitution in half as it is an illegal seizure of private assets without due cause or compensation. Everyone at Sullivan & Rothman is working around the clock to solve it and things are escalating because yours isn’t the only trust affected. There is a lot of people with a lot of money that’s very angry at the government right now.
“Basically,” he finally gave up and went straight to the point, “You don’t have a penny on your name. Everything you own is judicially seized until this shitstorm is settled. Including the mansion. You have until Saturday to take your personal belongings and vacate them. Sorry.”
The demon was really busy while she was hospitalized. Again. “Wait, how long was I out?”
“Less than two months. Christmas is next week. Happy birthday, by the way,” Oliver ruffled her hair. “Look, don’t worry. I convinced the boss to help you pro bono and he accepted. You are a valued customer of our company. And I had to thank you and your wolf tamer friend for the potion you fed me.”
She snapped, “What? You were in a coma!”
“The doctors call it a lucid coma. I was aware of my surroundings but unable to react or move my body. Catherine...”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“No, Oliver. I am the one who has to thank you. You shielded me, you took the bullets that were aimed at me.”
“Call it even?” He offered.
“Sure.”
Her insurance was also canceled but it would cover her last visit to the hospital. However, she was discharged as soon as possible and the next day she was already home. She had to pack everything up and leave, however.
Mr. Mouser rushed out of the house to rub on her legs and Esmeralda came crying to hug her. The household staff was all judicially fired because there was no money to pay them anymore.
“I’m sorry, Esmeralda. Will you be okay?” She asked.
“Yes. Mr. McNamara got us new jobs with people he knows, but we’ll be ready to come back once the dust settles. It’ll be like we never left, I’m sure of it.”
“I’ll fight...” She paused because a military humvee invaded the driveway. Jack and his captain friend got off the car. She didn’t fail to notice he was wearing a uniform. It meant he somehow got back on active duty.
“Jack! Or should I say, First Lieutenant?”
“It’s captain, actually. You already know the major here.”
She tried to smile but the mood was sour. “Congratulations?”
“Long story,” he whispered, then assumed a formal tone. “We’re here on official business, Miss Wallenstein.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What is it? Does Washington need a scapegoat?” He frowned and she knew she’d nailed it. “Fuck them. Seriously? We save them from… from...” her eyes swiveled to catch Esmeralda listening. “From that enemy agent, and now they want what? Hang me in the public square? Burn me at the stake?”
“Miss Wallenstein,” the newly-promoted major said, “Nothing of the sort. There’s a new government agency being created to deal with this newfound threat to our nation and you are being invited to work with us.”
“More like gang-pressed,” she crossed her arms. “What do you really want?”
“The whereabouts of your associates,” he confessed.
“I don’t know where they are. Why, are they under arrest if you just want to recruit them to your new superhero team?”
“The government prefers to avoid drastic measures.”
“But will use them anyway. After Doswell, Fort Hamilton, Brooklyn, and the Afghanistan withdrawal fiasco, they’re grasping at straws, aren’t they? Did they take a beating at the elections and lost the majority in Congress? That’s their problem. I’m just a mundane, disenfranchised girl with not a dime to my name. Thank you for your sentiment and congratulations on your promotion, officers. But if you are done, vacate the premises. You overstayed your welcome and are trespassing.”
It hurt her to treat Jack like that as he was probably forced to take the promotion and return to active duty. But he wasn’t here as Jack but as Captain Murphy of this new shitfuckery military agency. The former would always be welcome, but the latter was no friend of hers. Even if they arrested her, she wouldn’t betray her friends and he should know better. The two officers left without a single word of goodbye.
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Cat went to her room hugging Mr. Mouser and threw herself on her bed. She had two days before she was evicted. Her thoughts went to her mother. Did she know what would happen and detached herself from the trust to avoid exactly what happened to her. Once again, she failed to visit the girl in the hospital.
“I’ve repaid my filial duties to you, mom. You have your Foundation, survived this crisis unscathed, and is free of demonic corruption,” she spoke to the ceiling, the image blurring because the tears pooled in her eye sockets. “Farewell.”
In her head, Catherine cried.
Her phone rang. She didn’t want to but checked the caller ID anyway. She had no idea how Roger Marthan sneaked into her contact list but the demon did worse already. She went to the window and opened it before answering the call on the loudspeaker. She was sure she was under surveillance and wanted to make the job of whatever three-letter agency was watching her easier.
“You are a wanted man and I have no association with you. Now, you either tell me your whereabouts so I can claim the bounty on you, or fuck off.”
“Angry? Oh, Catherine, you have no idea how much I care for you! I’m always thinking of your future, didn’t you know? I just called you to tell you the rules of the game have changed. You are now broke and will stay broke as long as I wish. Your lawyer friends will just chase their tails endlessly. I’ll tell you more. You won’t be able to earn a single dime and your two returner friends are now hunted by the government. Congratulations, you proved the existence of the supernatural to the government, and now they want it all for themselves, those... diabolically, greedy, bureaucrats!”
“How am I supposed to live?” She asked after a long pause. She knew the demon’s powers were absolute. He killed hundreds of soldiers like they were made of cardboard. There was no fighting against that, only around.
“Not my problem. You WEREN’T supposed to be alive anyway. The faster you die, the faster I get my mission accomplished.”
“So you want me dead.”
“More than anything in this world.”
She got an idea. Her only option right now would be to couch surf and depend on others’ kindness until the demon was defeated, but that could take forever, especially now that the government would no doubt hoard all pure silver as a strategic resource. She needed money, she needed a way to earn money. Shinji was right. Her only “power” was “super-capitalism”, and with a demon cursing her to remain a pauper, that was useless.
“Say, do you want to make a Deal to change the situation a bit?”
The demon trilled on the other side of the line. “Always,” he seductively purred. It caused Cat to shiver and get goosebumps of disgust. “What is it?”
“Let me earn money if it is from a sinful act.”
Roger Marthan, or Rorgramathan, or whatever name he went by laughed loudly for more than a minute. “That’s a deal. Any money you earn from a sinful act is yours.”
“Including whatever money I can make from that money.”
“I’m your number one fan, Catherine. I’d love to see you whore yourself and try to arise from the ashes like a kinky phoenix. Consider it done. Now go and entertain me. Your world is too fucking boring! Make it fucking interesting by fucking around! You got yourself a deal. Oh, boy, I have guests.”
“FBI, OPEN UP!” She heard the shout through the call and the sound of wood breaking, probably a door being rammed open. Glass broke, shots were fired. People screamed in pain. More automatic gunfire, more screams of pain. Roger Marthan came back on the line.
“Oh, dear. You failed to explain to them that it’s not any silver that works on me. Wait, I got something on my teeth,” he spat. “Better. Well, thanks for the sacrifices. I knew you were holding the call long enough so they could track me, but I didn’t expect them to reach me so fast.”
“Why are you hiding if you are invulnerable?”
The demon only laughed for a while before he hung up. Cat waved at whatever FBI or NSA spotter was watching her and closed the window.
----------------------------------------
“We find a sinful job. Then we work until we can defeat the demon. We have to play by the rules he imposes. You know we’re powerless against him. Even with people as powerful as Alice and Shinji.”
“I do. And I also have a plan to deal with our problem from hell. It will take a long time and it is quite a gamble, but we can’t have profits without risk.”
Cat sat at her computer and turned it on. She browsed the news and found that all her social media accounts were locked down. She basically became a non-citizen. The demon could’ve starved her to death. He could’ve captured her and locked her up until he got what he wanted. Would she hold onto Catherine’s soul even under torture? She wasn’t sure and couldn’t find out. Yet the demon was very childish and that could be a weakness she could exploit. He couldn’t be defeated with violence but maybe he could be tricked.
She eventually navigated to the camgirl site and entered Terry’s chatroom. The entertainer was in the middle of a very explicit public show, with dozens of tip messages flooding the room. Cat also tipped to keep the show going on. Eventually, the show ended and she sat at the keyboard to talk to her customers.
Torrid Terry (Whisper) > Hey, New Jersey! How are we today?
NewJerseyChad094 (Whisper) > Not so good, Terry. Today might be the last day I can tip you. I’m sending you all my remaining tokens.
Torrid Terry (Whisper) > What happened, baby? Did you get fired?
NewJerseyChad094 (Whisper) > Worse. Way worse. I need your help, Terry.
Torrid Terry (Whisper) > Anything, baby. I can’t send you money, though.
NewJerseyChad094 (Whisper) > Here it goes. Do you think I could earn money camming?
Terry looked at the camera, “Sorry guys, the Q&A session is over,” she beamed at her crowd. “I have a friend that needs my immediate attention. Tell you what! Come back in a few hours, and I’ll make a raffle! A twenty minutes exclusive show with me!”
The crowd loved raffles.
Torrid Terry (Whisper) > You have my Snapchat. Call me there.
NewJerseyChad094 (Whisper) > All my social media accounts are locked down.
Torrid Terry (Whisper) > I can see here how many tokens you have in your site wallet. I’m generating a one-hour private show coupon for that amount.
NewJerseyChad094 (Whisper) > Thanks.
Torrid Terry (Whisper) > NP, BB.
Cat used the coupon code and saw her token balance plummet to zero. She rejoined Terry’s chatroom in private mode when the browser window refreshed.
“There. Now I’m all yours for a whole hour,” the bubbly camgirl gushed.
NewJerseyChad094 (Whisper) > Thanks.
“You can turn off whisper mode, you know? Say, how about you turn on your mic, so we can ditch this awkward text chat?”
NewJerseyChad094 (Whisper) > I’d rather not.
Terry smiled reassuringly. “Well, you are the one that needs my help. But I understand why, New Jersey. You don’t want me to find out you are a girl. Oops.”
The camgirl looked like the mischievous cat that ate the canary. Cat didn’t type anything in the chat.
“You’ve always been a girl, hadn’t you? The male friend whose help you sought never existed. I understand it. Really. Now, won’t you chat with me?”
Cat clicked to authorize the site to access her mic. “Hello?” She bashfully asked.
Terry squealed, “What a girly voice! Welcome, New Jersey. Now, why do you need me?”
“I’m broke, Terry. I need a way to make money.”
The camgirl leaned forward and covered her mouth with her fingers. “Oh, darling. Do you want to cam?”
“It’s one option. The least damaging one.”
“What about a regular job?”
“Can’t. I can’t explain now, but I can’t have a… I don’t want to say normal, but...”
“I got it. I totally get you,” she raised both hands, “No offense taken here, girl. I know very well the stigma associated with camming. So you think you want to be a camgirl. Look, I only know your voice and pussy. And what a beautiful pussy. Can I get a face to match it?”
She did. Terry gasped. “No way! Are you… New Jersey, I’ve seen you on the news!”
Cat waved awkwardly to the camera, “Nice to meet you, Terry. I’m Catherine Wallenstein, and I want to become a camgirl.”
Terry started to think out loud, “That would… a celebrity… darling, aren’t you worried about your reputation?”
Cat frowned. “Did you read anything about me lately? Do you think I have a reputation to worry about? And I thought camming was an honest and safe job.”
“It still counts as sex work for tax purposes, darling.”
And that was what Cat was betting on. Nothing was more sinful than sex work, and no sex work was safer than camming. Maybe phone sex, but that didn’t pay as well. If she earned half of what Terry did, she could climb out of poverty in a few years. She didn’t doubt the demon would keep her trust locked down forever if he wanted to. Heck, she wondered what kept him from taking over the world.
“So, can you help me?”
“I’d be delighted, darling!” Terry clapped her hands. “Come to Vegas, I’m giving you my address and personal phone number.”
Cat had no choice but to pack up her things and send them to Las Vegas. Predictably, Oliver said she could stay at his house, or Agatha’s for as long as she needed but Cat knew she would just survive mooching on her lawyers’ generosity forever. No, she needed to fight her own battles. She would make money camming, then use that money to invest and make a profit. Once she had a good nest egg going, she would come back and defeat this demon once and for all.
Rorgramathan would never see it coming.
----------------------------------------
At the airport, she found that her passport was also voided. Fortunately, she was flying domestic. She’d begrudgingly accepted the ticket as a gift from Oliver and Agatha. Holding Mr. Mouser in the pet carrier, she hugged the lawyers.
“Las Vegas?” Agatha sniffled. “That’s far.”
“I have a good job offer with a friend there,” Cat answered. “I need that job, it’s the only one I can get.”
She tried working as a broker but no firm or bank in New York would hire her. Some even called her for an interview but rejected her soon after. She had no qualifications, a very bad reputation, and a demonic curse jeopardizing her chances.
“Merry Christmas, Catherine. This is a small gift from the folks at the firm,” Oliver handed her a gift package that could fit a computer. “Bloomberg. I hope you like it.”
“My favorite brand,” she hugged what she suspected was a dedicated Bloomberg terminal laptop, one of the top pieces of equipment for electronic trading.
Her flight called the passengers to board. “Well, that’s it. Get me my money back!” She waved as she joked.
“We will, my lady,” Agatha curtsied.
Cat, Catherine, and the cat in the carrier boarded the plane to Las Vegas.
She had another reason to go there.
They didn’t call Nevada the “Silver State” for no reason.