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Hounded By Hell (Demonspawn: Book 2)
Chapter 5: You Really Shouldn't Put Your Hands On Me

Chapter 5: You Really Shouldn't Put Your Hands On Me

Anna's usual greeting always seemed overly cheery when she saw me at the bookstore. Even outside of work when we would run into each other, it was always the same. Now that I have not seen her in months, it seems more genuine. It is good to hear, but horrible timing. It seems I am doomed to run into her when I have got some supernatural forces swirling around me. We talked briefly after I got fired, and when I would ask her a question, she would sigh or say something dismissive. She didn't seem interested in our conversations.

We had been on really good terms when we worked together, so I thought we could be friends after I was fired. I was a little surprised when she said that she was going on a date so soon after my bumbling failure, but we still talked. However, when she told me I was acting weird and letting out frustrated breaths when I asked her something, I stopped talking to her. It started to feel like she really didn't like me, so instead of pushing harder, I just cut ties. It seemed like the better option.

To be fair, though, there is more to the story. Her attitude toward me changed just after we were on what some might call a date–we never really confirmed that is what it was. But during the beginning of the date, I figured out she was Christine's sister through adoption. That is when things went wrong, and I fled. I tried to call her and set up another date, but she acted like she didn't know what I was talking about. It was fine–I understood. These things happen, and I took no offense, mostly. She was dating someone new, and a lot of people kind of disappear into relationships when they are fresh and fun. They are getting to know their new dynamic, and tend to give it attention over all else. Unfortunately, that new dynamic was Brad.

Brad was not my favorite person at the time, and I still don't have a lot of good will toward him. He was a manager at the store I worked at. He might still be there, but I have not gone back to the store since I was fired. He is the one who canned me and, if I recall correctly, took great joy in doing so. I am not sure why he hated me so much, but he made the feeling mutual. My boss was actually a woman named Janet, but she was on medical leave at the time and he was made acting manager while she recovered. We had someone else that should have taken it, but she was not going to take the title without the pay. It was a smart move. But Brad did not mind. He swooped in, took the position and took advantage of the situation. So, while I was saving the city from my sibling, he conspired to fire me by doing his job and marking me absent.

The nerve, right?

I don't actually blame him for that part. But he made it a hostile work environment for me, and that was just uncool. My work buddy Geoff said he had designs on our coworker, Anna, and hated the fact that we were close. It was all in his head, of course. We were not that close, but he was acting so weird that it kind of gave us something to talk about. Then, we started clicking more and talking more. I now know that it definitely was that he liked her, because I am pretty sure they have been dating for the past year. I have not been checking up, so I don't know if they stayed together after Anna told me they were going on a date.

But I am hoping he hated me for other reasons and not just because of her. I'm sure there are plenty of reasons to, I am not perfect. Ultimately, I don't really care though, it is just annoying to be hated for something someone thinks you might do. I take a quick breath and turn around to greet her. She is wearing a dark colored coat that stretches down to her calves. The coat is unbuttoned and underneath there's a blue button down shirt that is tied at the bottom left side and she's wearing white pants and flats. Her brown hair, longer than the last time I saw her, is pulled back in a loose ponytail with a few strands tucked behind her left ear.

“Hey, Anna. How are you?”

“I'm good! How are you?” she looks me up and down with her green eyes and I crease my brow. Is she checking me out?

“I'm doing all right,” I say, jiggling my keys and looking toward the alley way. “Was just about to head home.”

“We were just grabbing some brunch, and I saw you coming out of that store,” she says, completely derailing my escape route.

“Yeah, I was talking to the owner about a friend of mine–” I am about to try to dismiss myself again, but I feel something. The same weird kind of energy shows up again on my radar and my paranoia perks up. It is a wild aura that has to be supernatural.

“What is that store? I don't think I've been there before?” she asks, looking toward the sign to Eph's.

“It's–uh–hey, are you with a friend or something?” I ask, looking around and hoping she's planning to leave soon. I don't know what this is, but it is projecting an aura filled with raw, unmitigated emotions. It is almost like they are trying to mirror mine, but urging toward my impulses.

“Ephraim's Emporium of Enchantments and Effects?” she says, reading the sign. “That's an awesome name! Is it a magic shop?! I love magic. I used to try to do it as a kid but I–” she continues speaking, but I am not paying close attention. I am looking around while nodding along and making affirmative noises whenever there is a pause, pretending to listen. What is this energy?

I hear the familiar voice of my demon in my head and feel his interest. That alone boosts my paranoia even more.

What is this? I can feel it too.

“–but my Uncle used to do some tricks. They were all pretty obvious and–”

No, what is it?

“–all over my mom and that was the last time she–”

Hey, what is it?!

“–do you?”

The voice in my head does not respond. He goes silent just when I need an answer. I focus on Anna again. She is looking at me expectantly, staring into my eyes.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?”

“You don't do magic tricks, do you?” she asks again.

“I dabble,” I say. If she sticks around, she will see me make myself disappear in a hurry. I don't like not knowing what is near me.

“Ah, McHale.” My mouth instinctively frowns at the sound of his voice, like I have just drank some sour, spoiled milk. There is only one person that, for whatever reason, can't say my name right. I say can't, but I mean won't.

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“Hi, Brad,” I say before turning toward him. He looks to be swimming in a large navy puffy coat wrapped around his wiry frame. Still tall and skinny with dark eyes and black framed glasses. He stares at me, wearing the same expression I have. His hawkish nose dips low on his face to the point where it looks like he’s one of those people that can easily touch it with their tongue. His neatly trimmed black hair looks gelled and styled. His whole look is clean cut, except the hair on his face isn’t coming in evenly. It just looks like his pale face is dirty. My attention is partially pulled when the presence shifts. I still can't pinpoint where it is. This thing’s aura is keeping its location well hidden. “Nice beard. How are you?”

“I'm fine,” he says after touching the hairs on his chin. “Just out for some food with my girlfriend. You remember Anna?” He lays a hand on her arm. She grimaces, then her eyes go blank for a moment. Her expression clears and she smiles, grabbing his arm.

“Yeah, we were just catching up. How was breakfast?”

Brad smirks. “Still no accounting for time, huh? It's a little late for breakfast.”

“Yeah . . . “ I say, drawing out the word, “How foolish of me. I guess I'll go lick my wounds now,” I say flatly. Anna laughs and then the same thing happens. Her eyes go blank, then she clings to his arm again. What is up with her? Brad doesn't seem to notice, but he does look angrier after my comment.

“How's work going for you? Have you found a new job since I fired you?” He smiles at that and looks at Anna. She still has a blank expression on her face. He frowns and turns back to me.

“Yeah, we were just talking about it,” I say, gesturing to Anna. “I work right over there. She thought it was awesome.”.

That was specifically aimed to make him upset. I have let him bring me down to his level. Nice going, Mike. Why does this guy annoy me so much? And why does he so very clearly hate me? And what the hell is going on with her? I do a quick scan of Brad, but he only has normal, human energy emanating from him. When I say 'normal' I mean non-magical. Humans and wizards have very distinct auras. It might seem rude to say it like this, but normal humans have the same aura as, like, plants and animals. There's really no difference in their energy levels. So when I read the mundane aura on Brad, it is kinda calming. I thought for a second that maybe he was something else, something supernatural, but no. Perhaps it is wishful thinking–I would feel no qualms about punching him in the face if he was messing with her mind somehow. I am no pacifist or anything, but I feel I have an unfair advantage against non-magic wielding humans. I try to avoid physical altercations with them. This whole situation is making me feel uncomfortable and I’m not handling it well. I am getting angrier than I should be, and it is stoking a fire within. Is it my other half?

now he responds to my internal question. He offers nothing further, but I can feel his emotions. His mood is . . . jovial, almost like–like something is funny. That's new.

I realize I have been ignoring the two in front of me, and turn my attention back to them.

“–enjoys some of the simple things in life, I guess. It's one of the things that makes her so adorable. A silly magic shop seems to be right up your alley, though. Are they okay with flaky employees?”

“They do appreciate a good disappearing act,” I say.

“There's always some kind of joke with you, isn't there? I suppose that's why I had to let you go. You just weren't cut out for the job.”

“It does,” I say excitedly, looking around. I'm just giving stock answers now, hearing but not listening to what he is actually saying. “It's definitely a great place to work.”

The aura washes over me again. It is nearby and responding to mine. The angrier I get, the more excited it seems. Now that I have a lid on my emotions, it is projecting sadness and disappointment. I am looking around for it calmly now, but that all changes quickly.

“What's with you? Are you even listening to me, McHale?” Brad asks.

I'm not really sure what he is thinking, but he reaches out and slaps my arm. I assume it is to get my attention, to make sure he was heard but, whatever the thought, it’s a mistake. Especially when I am worried about a potential attack. It is a violent enough action, and I have a violent response. I bat his hand away with my right hand and push my palm out with my left, hitting him in the solar plexus. He stumbles back a few feet and gasps for breath. He folds over, puts his hands on his knees and wheezes, then breaks into a spluttering coughing fit.

“Oh man, I'm sorry. Are you okay?” I reach down and put a hand on his shoulder. He bats it away and tries to stand up again, but goes back to putting his hands on his knees.

“What,” he huffs, “the hell is,” more wheezing and coughs, “the matter with you?” He is trying to get his breathing back under control.

The excitement creeps back into the thing's aura and it keeps moving. It moves around and closer, like it is getting better positioning, but I am still not quite sure what it is.

“I didn't mean it, I wasn't paying attention and didn't expect you to touch me. You really shouldn't put your hands on me,” I say, then look at Anna. She has a faraway look in her eyes and is not responding to anything that has happened. “Anna, are you okay?”

Her eyes focus on me and she smiles, “Hey, yeah I'm fine,” she says. She looks down at Brad and her smile falters. She puts a hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, thank you,” he responds, standing to his full height again.

“Is she okay?” I ask him.

“She's fine. Her therapist says these little episodes are normal. They happen especially when we've seen you.” He looks at me and anger is written all over his face. It is a look I have gotten from him many times before.

I am stunned by his words. 'Perfectly healthy?' I understand disassociating as a coping mechanism, but she was not like this before. I can't help but think, what kind of therapist thinks shutting down and disassociating to this degree is perfectly normal?

“Watch yourself McHale. And stay away from Anna. I don't know what you did to her, but it's clear you are causing her some kind of mental distress.” He looks me up and down.

Oh boy.

I can't keep my cool with him anymore after that comment.

“All right, man. Screw you. I haven't done anything to Anna.” Besides causing her sister to die. “And as far as I know, I haven't done anything to you,” I say, pushing my finger in his chest. He backs away slightly and Anna looks off to one side, letting him move away from her. My anger is building too fast and our repeated minor altercations have drawn a small crowd in the area while we have been talking. I just wanted to go to my car. How did it end up like this?

The aura that has been positioning itself is apparently enjoying this display. It bounces an emotion back, it is delighted by my actions. I know I should stop, especially with something watching us, but I can't. “You've had a problem with me ever since you met me, which is fine, but you've made it a project to try to fuck me over. I don't know why you're such an ass, but you won't continue it with me. I'm done!”

A few people around us start recording with their phones. It annoys the hell out of me, but what I really care about is that aura. I can tell now that it is feeding off my anger and helping it along. I finally pinpoint the direction the energy is coming from and look over in the area behind me. There is just a wall there, and I don't see anything. Until, that is, something wet hits the ground near me. More of it falls past my face and I follow it down. The liquid sizzles against the stone of the sidewalk and spreads in a small puddle of… slime? The deep, rumbling growl reverberates through my chest and I follow the sound up. There is a scream, and people start pointing above us, turning their cameras, and running. I look up and see it. I have seen it in so many blurry photos and video captures, but they don't do it justice.

It. Is. Massive.

Its claws dig into the side of the building like it is made of clay. Pebbles crumble away and fall to the ground around us. The beast that has been terrorizing the city is right here. Its canine maw is dripping in what almost looks like a smile, displaying large sharp teeth. Its muscles tense as it leans down, ready to pounce. It zeros in on Brad, prepared to leap at him.