The Devil's Demeanor (41 page)

Conner placed himself on the floor, on the
other side of the coffee table from his cousin. “I just want to talk.”

“Okay. About what?”

“Something bad is going to happen tonight. I
can feel it.” His grin was gone. He started to look nauseated.

Jordan sat closer to him. “Does this have
anything to do with Grandpa?”

“Or Travis?” Erin added.

Conner looked at her. “Yes and yes.”

“Tell us,” Jordan said eagerly. He felt like
his cousin was finally about to open up to him. “Tell me so I can help, bro.”

Conner started breathing heavily. His head
was down.

“Conner, what’s happening?”

“Erin,” Conner said quietly, “I don’t think
your cure worked.”

*
 
*
 
*

Don and Monica lay in bed, sweaty and happy.
His foot was hanging off the side of the bed, but he was too spent to pull it
up. He was comfortable, however, and therefore content.

“Well,” said Monica, “that was something.”

Don laughed. “Indeed it was.”

“Just what we needed.”

Don was exhausted. What he needed now was a
nap, but he didn’t want to fall asleep on his wife, not during their special
night together. Nevertheless, he succumbed to his exhaustion and found himself
dreaming of a terrible, familiar place. If hell existed, this was it.

He was in a dark tunnel, surrounded by
shadowy arms that reached out to him from the walls. He tried to stay away from
them but they managed to touch him anyway. Their touch was cold and evil. Don
ran forward, where a dim light shone on him. He had to keep going forward,
because there was nothing but blackness behind.

When he got there, he saw he was in an immense
cavern. There were stalactites and stalagmites everywhere. Despite seeing it
before in another dream long ago, he couldn’t believe the size of the place.
There were no light sources, yet much of the area before him was visible. He
found himself standing on the edge of a cliff. When he looked down, he could
not see the ground.

“Lovely place, isn’t it?” a voice asked from
behind him.

When Don spun around, he saw nothing but a
dog. An English bulldog.

The demon.

Don smiled, despite his fear. “This is your
prison, isn’t it?”

“This is my
home
.”

“Am I really here? Or is this a dream?”

“Let’s just say...I am talking to you, in
some form.”

“As the dog?”

The bulldog cocked its head to the right.
“Is that how you’re seeing me now? That must be the way you
want
to see me.”

Don looked
around.
“This is the place you want to
escape. How am I here?”

“The link your ancestors passed to you has
allowed you to visit.”

Don didn’t know whether to believe he was
physically here. “No wonder you want to leave so badly. You’ve seen the good
life—my life—and now you see yours as inferior.”

Suddenly the dog turned into a black,
man-sized bat and took flight, soaring past Don and around the large
stalactites. It gripped one in particular and began clawing inside a hole.
“We’ve gotten a taste of a real life and we want more.”

It pulled its large, bony arm out of the
hole. In its claw was a small red bug the size of a baseball. The demon ate it,
lime-green blood oozing from its large pink lips. It then smeared the goo over
its chest; the lips that covered it opened and closed hungrily.

“We?” Don asked, disgusted by the sight. He
hadn’t seen one since for years, and even then he’d gotten brief glimpses as it
attacked him.

The creature looked in the throes of
ecstasy. At the sound of Don’s voice, it suddenly came back to itself and
looked at him. “My brothers and sisters.”

Don looked around the cavern. “I didn’t know
you have a family.”

“How could you not? You killed my brother,
after all.”

Don found that puzzling. “Your brother?”

“The one who tried to take over your brother
Ethan.”

Too many thoughts raced through Don’s head
at that moment. “That wasn’t you?”

“Of course not. Dead is dead.”

“But...you said you were trying to come
back.”

The creature looked at him from beside the
stalactite, its glossy eyes narrowed. Then it laughed. “That must have been my
other brother Mothello. He likes to play tricks.”

“But...how? I don’t understand what’s
happening.”

The demon leaped from the stalactite and
landed in front of Don, who backed away to give it room. The creature stood
face to face with him, all of six feet tall. “My brother, the one you killed,
found a way for us to escape this place and live among your kind. He kept it
secret, however. He was always selfish. Shortly after his death, we discovered
his secret. We found a way to communicate through his victims.”

“Everyone he infected,” Don guessed. “You
can’t possess them forever, though, can you?”

“No, we can’t. Not yet, anyway.”

“What do you mean, ‘not yet’?”

“We have a plan in effect.” It laughed.

“Are you going to tell me this plan?”

“And spoil the surprise? Of course not.”

“Why have you told me anything at all,
then?”

“Because there’s nothing you can do to stop
it.”

Noise began to filter through the cavern.
Don saw dozens, maybe hundreds of black shapes flying toward him from a far
corner, where darkness was strong. The sound of flapping wings made his blood
run cold.

“Help me!” a male voice called from the
direction of the creatures. It sounded so familiar, but it couldn’t be Travis
Hooper.

Suddenly, Don was jerked from the cavern,
back into the tunnel, and into a blindingly white sky.

He was waking up, and not a moment too soon.

*
 
*
 
*

Monica was next to him, in the hotel’s bed.
She’d had her back to him, but she turned when he groaned. “Bad dream?” she
asked.

“Yeah. But it’s better now.” Though his
heart was still racing and the covers were now under him instead of on top like
they’d been before, he began kissing her.

“What makes you think the cure isn’t
working?” Erin asked Conner.

The den was so silent Jordan could swear he
heard his cousin’s racing heart.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Travis,”
Conner finally said. “When I first realized I loved him, I couldn’t stand being
in the same room with him. My heart always skipped a beat.
 
At the same time, I hated being near him
because I knew I couldn’t be
with
him.

“Then he started talking to me, like we were
friends. He would say things that made it sound like he was hitting on me, like
‘You left your panties at my place last night’ and ‘So, when are we getting
married?’. So I started saying stuff back to him. And then we started hanging
out without you guys.

“Back then, I felt happy and the voices in
my head would go away. I’ve
always
heard them telling me I should hurt this
guy for picking on me or hurt that guy for yelling at me in front of the whole
class. Wouldn’t it be great to put them in their place, they would ask me.”

Jordan and Erin didn’t move or say a word
during this speech. They were too frightened of breaking Conner’s trance. His
head was still down, his eyes closed. It was like he was sleep-talking.

“Last night, the voices were too strong,
even though I was with Travis. Even though I was happy, it wasn’t enough. There
were too many voices talking at once. They told me Grandpa was dead, that he’d
been murdered. They wouldn’t tell me who’d done it, but that if I didn’t take
out my frustration and pain on someone soon I would die.”

“You took it out on Travis?” Erin guessed.

Conner nodded. “I didn’t mean to. All I did
was look at him, and then he tried to scream but nothing came out. His eyes
were wide, his mouth open. That’s how I left him.”

Jordan remembered the way Conner appeared
that morning. His own eyes burning with a dim light. “Is there any way to undo
it?” he asked his cousin.

“I don’t know. If there is, the voices won’t
let me do it. They want me to hurt more people. That’s how I know your cure
didn’t work, Erin. They’re telling me to do something bad right now.”

“Do what?” she asked. “What are they telling
you to do?”

“They’re telling me to kill you right now.”

*
 
*
 
*

Don was on top of Monica, kissing her,
running his fingers through her hair. He was faintly aware of the sheets
falling off his ass, but he ignored them. No amount of cold air on his butt could
distract him from this amazing goddess.

They rolled over, Don on his back. Monica
sat upright, arching her back. He covered her breasts with his hands. She
looked down and smiled at him. It was devilish and sly.

She bent over and kissed his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered again.

“I know.”

Don relished in the moment. He tried not to
think about what the creature had told him in the cavern. He tried even harder
not to believe it.

*
 
*
 
*

“Conner, you don’t have to do anything you
don’t want to,” said Erin. She was poised for flight, her hands on the coffee
table, her butt off the couch. She wasn’t quite standing yet.

“I want this feeling to stop,” Conner said.
He sounded in so much pain.

“It can. We can help you. Nobody has to get
hurt.”

“Someone always gets hurt, no matter what.
That’s what they told me.”

“The voices in your head?”

“Not in my head. On the TV.”

Jordan and Erin looked to the television,
which was still turned off.

“No matter what I watch,” Conner continued,
“the people on there will stop acting and suddenly look straight at me. They
just stare at me. Even when I change the channel, they’ll be staring at me. And
then they tell me to help the people before the monsters get to them. They say
Uncle Ethan already killed a bunch of the people, that I have to protect them.
It’s fucking terrifying.”

Jordan could imagine actors in shows and
movies simply staring at him, and it was a scary thought. He didn’t know what
to say or do, however. “Conner, none of that is real. It’s in your head and you
can ignore it if you want to. See?” He turned on the TV.

“No!” Conner screamed as he spun around to
face it.

Jordan saw actors on a sitcom, going about
his and her business to amuse.

“They’re looking at me right now,” Conner
whispered. He sounded completely horrified.

Jordan looked again and saw nothing unusual.
“They’re not really looking at you, Conner. They’re acting—” He stopped
suddenly. One of the actors was looking directly at the camera. At him.

A woman who’d been talking to the actor
turned as well and stared at the camera.

A little kid who had been going through the
refrigerator peeked around the door at the camera.

“Find them,” the woman and kid said
together, “before the monsters get them all. There aren’t many left.”

Jordan’s pulse quickened. The family was
staring silently at him. “Oh my god,” he whispered. He had to be imagining
this, but it seemed real.

“Jordan?” said Erin. “What is—”

Conner spun around, his face completely
changed to that of a beast.

He snarled and leapt over the table, landing
on his cousin. Jordan screamed as he fought Conner. The enraged boy was
pummeling him with his fists. Erin grabbed a vase and smashed it against
Conner’s head.

Jordan pushed the boy away. “Run!” he yelled
at Erin. She took off for the kitchen.

Conner was right behind her, running on all
fours.

Jordan jumped to his feet to follow and had
just enough time to notice the actors on the screen following his movements.

Erin fell against the cabinet near the stove
as Conner approached. Jordan grabbed a liquor bottle from the bar in the den,
stood on the steps, and launched the bottle at his cousin. It smashed against
the back of Conner’s head.

Conner spun around and roared.

Then he grabbed several knives from a rack
with one hand and threw them all at once. Jordan screamed and jumped backward
as the knives planted themselves into the wall around him.

One, however, found its way into his
shoulder.

Conner turned back to Erin, but she had a
frying pan in her hands now. She smacked him in the face and pushed him against
the breakfast nook. She ran over to Jordan and helped him into the living room.

Conner followed quickly.

Jordan was knocked to the ground as Conner
landed on his back. Jordan wrapped his arms around his head to protect it,
trying to kick at his attacker. Erin was slapping at Conner, trying to get his
attention. He pushed her away, just in front of the fireplace.

Jordan kicked Conner in the back, launching
the boy forward. Conner was between him and the front door. Jordan pointed to
the fireplace and said to Erin, “Go through there, into the office!”

She crawled over the artificial logs and
fell onto Dad’s office floor. Jordan was right behind her. Before he could get
all the way through, however, Conner grabbed hold of his ankle and began
pulling him back into the living room. Erin grabbed Jordan’s hands and pulled
him into the office. Conner lost his grip, causing the other two teens to fall
against the desk.

Jordan jumped up and quickly closed the
partition in the fireplace before Conner could get through. He locked it and
then ran over to the office door. He could already hear Conner running down the
steps into the den. He managed to get the door closed just in time as Conner
rounded the corner and slammed into it. Jordan locked it and shoved a file
cabinet against it.

After a moment, the attack on the door
ceased. Jordan and Erin stood in the office, daring not to breathe despite all
they’d gone through. They simply listened. They heard nothing.

*
 
*
 
*

Diedre tried to enjoy her dinner but could
not. She tried to enjoy the company of the man across from her but could not.
She was thinking of a completely different man than the one she’d agreed to go
on a date with. Her date’s name was Roderick; the man she couldn’t stop
thinking about was Donovan Scott.

“Are you okay?” Roderick asked her. He was a
handsome man, a few years younger than her, with curly black hair and light
brown skin.

Diedre smiled as best she could. He had such
a strong jaw bone, she wanted to run her fingers along it. Despite his
wonderful looks, however, she couldn’t get into the spirit of the date. “I’m
fine. Just distracted.”

“By what?”

They sat in a nice Italian restaurant in
downtown Fort Worth. The place was dimly lit and busy as hell. Diedre and
Roderick were lucky to have gotten a table at all. She felt guilty for being in
such a funk with a man she really liked.

“Let me guess,” Roderick went on. “It’s that
story.”

Diedre never talked about the story with
him, considering they hadn’t been going out for very long. She also didn’t want
him to know that she was obsessing over it. Somehow, he knew.

“It’s not,” she finally said. “I’m not on
that anymore.”

“How long have we been going out?” he asked.

“Two months?”

“Two and a half, but who’s counting?” He
waved it away. “My point is: You’ve been letting this run your life.”

“It’s work,” she protested.

“No, it’s obsession. I bet this isn’t even
an official story.”

“You nag just like a woman,” she joked.

Roderick’s eyes went wide. “That was a very
sexist thing to say.”

“I can’t be sexist; I’m a woman.”

He crossed his arms.

“That was supposed to be funny.” She poked
at her Alfredo with her fork. She was usually so full of life and passion, but
this story had drained her. You would be too if you’d spent so much time and
energy on something only to run into a brick wall and have to give up.

“You said it was over,” Roderick went on.
“Why now?”

“Because I have nowhere to go anymore. I
thought I had what I needed and then I got the rug pulled out from under me.”

“You still won’t tell me what it’s about?”

“I don’t see the point now. I just want to
forget about it.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

They dined in silence for a while. And then
Diedre exploded.

“The detective I spoke with said he didn’t
believe she truly killed her boyfriend, that the marks in the wound didn’t
match those of her nails, but she stayed silent during the trial, and there has
to be a body buried in that backyard, but I can’t dig it up because it’ll look
like I had something to do with it, and I can’t go to the cops now because if
I’m wrong, my career would be in jeopardy.”

She stopped to take a breath. Roderick
stared wide-eyed at her from across the table. “I only caught half of that,” he
responded.

“An anonymous call,” she said under her
breath. “You’re right. I need to make an anonymous call. I can’t believe I
didn’t think of that.”

Roderick looked confused. “I never said
that. How did you get that from what I said?”

She backed from the table, excusing herself,
and then ran outside, looking for the nearest pay phone. She couldn’t very well
call from the restaurant, now could she?

*
 
*
 
*

Jordan screamed when Erin applied pressure
to his shoulder wound. When he begged her to let go, she did, and was
overwhelmed by the amount of blood on her hands. She didn’t know what to do,
didn’t know how to help. He was sweating and breathing hard. He looked awful.

“We have to stop the bleeding,” she said
after a minute.

“The first-aid kit is in the kitchen,”
Jordan replied. “We can’t get to it.”

“I can.”

Jordan looked at her like she was crazy.
“You’re not going out there.”

“I have to. You could bleed to death.”

“We can make a tourniquet or something out
of my shirt.”

“Conner hasn’t attacked us for a while.
Maybe he went outside.”

Jordan shook his head. “He’s still out
there, waiting for us to come out too.”

“How do you know that?”

A silent moment.
 
And then, “I just do.”

Erin helped him out of his button-down plaid
shirt and T-shirt. She set aside the outer shirt and wrapped the blood-soaked
white T-shirt around his shoulder. She pulled it tight.

Jordan passed out immediately.

Erin touched his forehead. He looked so
helpless, she wanted to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay. But she
couldn’t because she didn’t know if, in fact, everything would be okay.