Another day, another step towards the void. An increase of power and the shadow of conflict grew that much darker. Perhaps a pretty drab outlook - but it was my birthday, and I’d be noir if I wanted to.

I rubbed the barrel of the revolver on the side of my head. “You think that’s it?”

[There is no doubt in my mind.]

Although he seemed rather sure of himself, the cottage that lay ahead of us didn’t spark the same amount of confidence in me. It looked liked something a solitary witch would live in. If this was some kind of fairy-tale. A demon sorcerer leading a coven of acolytes would have something more… evil looking?

“See, my issue with this kind of thing isn’t so much as the suspension of my disbelief.” My shoulders sunk as I tilted my head at my patron. “It’s more of a… I mean, you could just peg that with an Entropy Mortar and vaporize the whole building, yeah?”

[That seems like a likely outcome, Eric.]

“That’s bullshit.” I pulled a face. Too easy, I couldn’t accept that. If Frank wanted these demons dead, it would be because it would be more difficult than simply erasing a small cottage from the Lowers. “It must be a false entrance, or contains a portal to the real coven.”

[Once again, we are on the same page.]

I raised an eyebrow at him and nodded. Nice when that was the case. If it was indeed a portal, then scouring it from existence with his attack might cause our Quest to fail on account of not being able to reach the demon any longer.

A sigh of resignation escaped my lips. “Let’s do this the old-fashioned way, then.”

He nodded, and we stepped toward it. I wondered what the Hunters on the list were like, and how they managed to find themselves there. If they were high enough level to have Domains. Whether they sat in little cottages that we could just erase before they had a clue we were after them.

Those thoughts could sit at the back of my mind now and wait their turn. Focus on the neck that needing snapping right now. It had gotten to the point where I didn’t even clock the corruption here in the Lowers. While a few months prior I would be a driveling mess at this stage, melting and crazed by the overbearing heat, at present it felt no different from taking a walk in my own garden. Something I didn’t actually do often, because that’s how the gnomes would get you.

[Are we planning on using your charisma or your gun to get us to the target?]

An interesting question. As much as I felt like a brand new Eric today, I doubted that the demons we were hunting would be very receptive to anything I had to say. The whispering sound of our skills activating in demonic were the only words I cared about hearing once we got into the thick of it.

“The latter. Erase all that stand. Crush all that fall.”

//No hostiles detected in the building. Be wary.

I nodded. The portal option seemed most likely. Or maybe an elevator? Actually, now that I had willed it into being with my imagination, I was almost dead-set on it being an elevator. I’d accept no substitute.

Even as we got into three-dozen, two-dozen, and then a solitary dozen feet away from the structure, nothing about it changed. It didn’t bend and contort to a larger size, and we were way past Mimic-style buildings. Didn’t like a repeat. It remained the same, something otherwise unassuming in this expansive forest of dead trees.

The windows were dark, the latticed panes revealing nothing of the potential interior of the cottage. While the door beckoned me closer, I wanted to be a little more cautious than immediately leaping toward it to slam the black-metal knocker on the wood. I would be polite and use my manners.

No, what was I thinking? I didn’t need to play by any rules down here.

Energy pulsing down my leg, I launched my boot forwards and kicked the door clean off the frame. The crack of wood soon followed the clatter of it landing onto the floorboards. A plume of dust followed, the smell of sawdust filling my nose as we waited for the noise to cease.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I clicked my fingers. “Ah, next time we’ll have you shoot the lock off with the shotgun.”

[Is there a particular reason?]

“Sure, it’s like… a human cliche.” My grin didn’t seem to be too convincing, but given that we weren’t immediately assailed by anything from the cottage, we could have some idle talk.

[I am reasonably fond of cliches. I think.]

That made the two of us, although I figured he was just being vague for the whole ‘am I a demon’ shtick. I stepped into the cottage, shuffling split parts of the door away with my foot as my eyes adjusted to the gloom. The intention was to break the lock area, not destroy the opening.

Despite the windows being present, they didn’t actually bring much light in. Shelves and cupboards lined most of the walls. Decrepit and covered in dust, it was clear that nobody actually lived here. “Detective time, Wight. What are your thoughts on this scene?” I raised an eyebrow and stood waiting for his response.

Knife stowed and shotgun resting across his shoulder, he cupped his beak with a clawed hand and looked around with his crimson eyes.

[This place is clearly not a home.]

I nodded slowly and waited for him to fill the silence with his thoughts.

[Not just from the abandoned and dust-laden furniture, but the layout doesn’t make sense. This is a sole room, no table or chairs, despite it looking like a kitchen. More akin to a storeroom, yet it holds nothing but decay.]

He turned back to me and then looked at the wall beside me.

[The polished metal doors are rather out of place too.]

“What do they remind you of?” Unable to hide my grin, I raised my eyebrows in anticipation of his response.

[Like the elevators in the demon office building.]

It sure was nice when things went the way I wanted, especially on my birthday. Was this the Universe’s way of making things up to me? Doubtful, as this wouldn’t be my first choice of what to be doing today. At my age, you still had to work, birthday or not. I couldn’t afford to sit idle when there was so much going on.

“There’s no buttons though.” Also—as expected—things weren’t straightforward. If we activated this, then the demons down below would know we were on our way. I’d prefer not to give them such an advantage when they could use demonic… magic.

My long running dislike on trying to qualify the energy or power we used to do all our abilities was wearing thin. It was all variations on things that could be called magic. I found myself distracted from the task at hand for some reason.

[Probably activated with a spell.]

“Uh-huh.” I didn’t like that. “Any estimation on how deep this goes, Rods?”

//Hold.

I rubbed at my beard as we stood in silence. At first, I didn’t want to say anything in case he would need to interrupt immediately, but the longer he took just made the ongoing quiet awkward.

[Are you thinking of removing the door and firing a Mortar down there, or opening it up to jump down?]

“Both. But… they both have-”

//Approximately one hundred feet.

“-downsides.” Breaking my legs would be one of them. A hundred feet might be doable, right? I had lost any sort of gauge on what was actually normal.

[True. If we just bomb them it might not kill them, just seal them in.]

Elevators had cables and stuff, though. We could probably slide down them or something. Despite my pleasant mood for the day, my problem-solving skills may have stayed back home in bed.

“We’re overthinking,” I said with a sigh. “This is not how we do things? Remember the Hive? Or all the other times we leaped both feet first into unknown danger?”

He nodded and turned toward the metal doors. Shotgun up, he waited for me to be ready. Instead of stepping to the side, I stepped behind him and leveled my revolver above his own weapon.

[Is this what I think it is?]

I grinned widely. “You know me well enough by now.”

[It just feels so soon.]

“It’ll be fine, different from last time, I promise.” My grin slowly waned.

[I can feel it, Eric. I am just apprehensive.]

//Ah, I hate to break protocol but did you want me to turn comms off for… whatever this is?

“No!” If I had wanted that, then I’d do it myself. I lowered my weapon. “Ah, I’ve lost it now. Go ahead and go solo, Wight.”

[These things do happen. When we are ready, we will be ready.]

His words of assurance didn’t do much to build my confidence back up. Still, maybe he was right. I was going too fast, and we needed to get more comfortable first.

He pointed the shotgun at an angle and blasted a shot through part of the frame. With a buzz and flicker of dark power, the doors lost their power and slowly opened. Wight pumped the spent shell out.

“Neat.” I stepped over to the end and peered down. The lift itself was at the bottom, an inky darkness obscuring past fifty feet or so. A handful of thick cables ran from the metal ceiling directly down the center of the shaft.

[Ready when you are, the cowboy.]

I shot him a grin. Perhaps he had been thinking the same thing as me - something pretty common these days. My demonic energy pooled forth and my obsidian mask and gloves came up. The gemstones were inert, no light at all in them. That meant no corruption affecting me. I reinforced the left-hand once ready and hoped that I could increase the friction somehow.

Otherwise, I’d be teleporting back home with shattered legs and Frank wouldn’t be too pleased. Not that I particularly needed to impress him, but having a second Higher demon on my side wasn’t the worst thing. Until it was.

[Say the thing, Eric.]

With one last nod toward him, I looked out over the gap. A simple thing to jump. I even kept one hand busy with my revolver just in case. Clearly seeing the enemies as more of a threat than the fall. I ran my tongue across my dry lips.

And jumped.

“Yeehaw!” I said, somewhat quietly, as I caught the cable and started my descent.