A Demon Trashes My Car and Threatens to Kill Me

"Closing in five," Manager calls from the front. I drop off the last of the shipment boxes in the backroom and heave a sigh.

It's not a sigh of exhaustion as much as a sigh of relief. The night shift is usually boring. The three of us just laze around and pretend like we have something to do. Belle has been sweeping the same spot for an hour, and John has resorting to opening and closing the tray of the cash register like its a form of stress relief.

I think I've moved the same stack of boxes around about five times already...

The LED light panel above me has been flickering for the past few hours. The same two flies have been trapped in here since morning -- none of us could catch them, and we eventually gave up. The little television over the counter is on for the whole day, tuned into a little local station.

"Multiple reports of extraterrestrials over the past month. Locals report spotting aliens wreaking havoc at junkyard…"

Belle turns it off with a sigh. Conspiracy theorist nonsense, as usual.

It is now silent besides the drone of the air conditioning and soda vending machines in the back.

And that's about as much description of my job as I can manage.

I didn't have much to do after high school.

And it's not that I didn't have anything to do in general. I had a lot to do, and all of those things blew over before I even knew it. Before you know it, you're in a small town next to a junkyard, working at the convenience store by the gas station, moving boxes and chatting it up with people who stumble in, just as lost as you are.

Except it's the road they're lost on, and for you, well, it's life itself.

Luckily for your sanity, you have people with whom to share your misery.

"So Lee," John says, punching the relic of a cash register closed as I return.

We really ought to have updated that thing. Who even carries cash around anymore? How does that famous saying go? If a cash register exists in a convenience store but no one is around to check out, does it even make a sound?

John has been punching that thing the whole day, so I can confirm that the answer is yes, and it's a very annoying sound at that!

"Oh yeah, finally gonna tell us what your 'big break' is all about?" He asks.

"That's right, I mentioned it yesterday, didn't I…"

He nods.

John's a cool guy, good at talking, good at remembering the things on other people's minds. Older than us by a few years, with career plans dead enough to start roaming around looking for brains to eat, he still manages a bright disposition. Though, who knows what's really going on in that head of his. If it's a front, it's a pretty darn good one. I wish I could say I didn't envy that level of dedication.

"Oh, right!" Belle pipes on. Her pigtails bounce excitedly. She's too old for them, but she wears them anyway. And heck, she looks good, so she honestly shouldn't care what other people think. Unfortunately, of course she sorely does. "Planning on telling us before we lose what little interest we had in your endeavors completely?"

And she does that. Cuts deep into your insecurities with a cute smile on her face.

She's not a mean person though. I figured she hadn't always been like that, but somewhere along the line life had disillusioned her and simply stripped her of her will to maintain the sugar coating on her words.

Golden girl stuck in the florescent light of a 7-Eleven. Modern day Ophelia drowned by the weight of societal standards and credit card debt. She thinks that she could've made it if she were just born in another time and place. It's a sentiment many people share.

Though, as much as I explain the complexity of my relations with these two mundane folk, you know that once the main plot starts and I get whisked away to that strange and fantastical world, you won't be seeing much of them at all, right?

Right, you're perfectly aware that this is just the tutorial level, the introductory event.

Let's get on with it, then. Since you know how this all goes, I won't waste your time too much.

"Yeah, there's only so much suspense you can build," John laughs, diffusing the somber mood after a few moments of silence.

"You guys…" I say, exasperated.

"Just teasing you, just teasing you!" Belle says.

Yeah, Belle, teasing usually implies some lighthearted and good natured banter! Have you heard of it?!

You think just because you're cute that you can say whatever you want?

...Well, you'd basically be right.

I tap my chin for a few seconds.

"Well, I guess I'll tell you. I got this car for cheap from a guy who found it by the junkyard. There's some really good offers up if I can just patch up the paint and get it to run."

"Oh, that's right! I forgot you're into fixing and stuff," she says.

"Just a little." I can't claim to be good at it. "It's just something I got into when I was younger."

"So it's a hobby you've always loved, but kept at a distance from your career for fear of failure which would ultimately result in you hating the very thing you loved?" She blinks her long eyelashes at me innocently.

"R-right… You got me…" I murmur.

John raises an eyebrow. "You said cheap, like how cheap?"

"Well, like…" I fidgeted. "Like I might've pawned my phone off…"

Belle: "You pawned your phone?!"

"...And temporarily moved into a smaller house outside of the city, but you know, the point is it'll pay off. Eventually."

They stare at me for a while, eyes filled with blasé pity, and the faintest tinge of understanding.

They'd like to act like they haven't been in those exact shoes too many times than they'd like to admit. They're already mentally making bets on the outcome of my investment.

John pats me on the back sympathetically, and Belle follows suit.

"Good luck, my dude," John says simply.

I admire the blue color. I admire the elegant lines. I pat the hood approvingly.

"You're gonna make me a lot of money," I say to it. I'm standing in my backyard, a little fenced area where I'd painstakingly parked the thing in the grass. There's actually a dented section of fencing that I'd reversed the rear bumper into, but I pretend I don't see that. I happily flip open the hood.

Transmission, radiator, battery...

It's mostly intact, really.

I just need to stop by the store for some small replacement pieces and a new spark plug.

As I walk into town I pass by an electronics store with a display window full of televisions, all tuned into that shady local channel.

"We are receiving some expert opinions that the aliens may actually be escaped government test subjects," the tired reporter reads in monotone, "Due to the number of reports from the area, we advise viewers to stay away from the junkyard… We advise everyone in the area to remain vigilant and stay inside after dark… ."

I look around me. It is already night, and I am indeed the only one out.

I frown.

"What a load of baloney…" I grumble and cross the street.

In the darkness, I think I see some shapes moving around in the shadows. I shiver and walk faster.

I manage to make my way in and out of the shop right before it closes. The guy at the register, who was probably hoping to pack up a bit earlier today, gives me the stink-eye as he scans my stuff. I leave with a plastic bag clanking with metal parts as I walk.

...Are you getting impatient already?

You want me to hurry up and get to the part when the cool demon prince from the cover/synopsis appears?

Alright, fine. You're lucky that this story moves fast.

I swing the plastic bag from the mechanic shop back and forth as I come back to my house. Humming, I unlock the fence and I walk into my backyard, counting how much money I'll make when this is all over.

I stop dead in my tracks.

Blood, all blood.

I blink my eyes, not believing what's in front of me.

The first thing I see is blood comically splattered across the grass and fence, arcs and patterns to suggest it had sprayed up in ways blood truly should not spray.

On top of the concave hood of my new car, there is a large bloody fleshy mess, mutilated beyond recognition. It looks to have used to be some sort of Eldritch alien monster.

Metal parts are jutting out of places where it should truly not be jutting.

Kneeling on top of that bloody mess, splattered with blood as if he had just ripped apart that monster and my car with his bare hands, is a young man. He has two red horns protruding from flaxen hair, blue eyes ice cold.

Strapped on his back, looking spotless as if it hadn't been used at all, is a large metal chainsaw.

This is all on top of my formerly spotless car.

This time, it is truly damaged beyond repair.

He slowly looks up and sees me.

"Oh crap," he laughs, expression of shock fading into smug condescension. "Didn't know someone was living here." Blood drips off his cheek, which he wipes away with the back of his hand. "My bad."

It is at this moment when I tearfully begin to speculate where in my life I had fatally gone wrong.

__________________________________________________________

"What the &#*(#*?! man!" "I yell when I finally regain my senses, backing up. "You owe me a new car," I add meekly.

He stands up on the hood. I wince as he stepped down, the mangled metal screeching under his weight.

"So you're a human, huh?" He muses, stepping closer to close the distance between us, his eyes glowing harsh fluorescent blue.

"Amusing…" He raises his hand and makes a crushing motion. "I wonder how much it would hurt you if I ground up your bones up one by one."

There is a moment of silence in which my flight or flight instincts pick a side.

Fortunately, it is an easy decision which is made quickly.

"A whole lot, you psychopath!" I yell and sprint away down the road.

I run into neighborhoods, yelling for help.

I see curtains swiftly draw close on the few windows which still have lights on inside. A few faces appear and squint at me angrily before turning the lights off.

That's right… Most people around here wouldn't want to go outside if they heard a clearly disturbed young adult screaming on the streets at 3 AM.

My bad, I forgot about that.

Before I know it, I'd ran into an empty part of town bordering the junkyard. I rest my hands on my knees, breathing heavily.

"Pitiful," I suddenly hear a voice say behind me. That blood-covered demon emerges from an alley, a bored look on his face. He looks like he hadn't broken a single sweat catching up. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Humans really are weak little creatures."

"...Who are you?" I ask.

Of course, I'm not actually interested in who he is. The guy has horns and just annihilated apart some sort of monster (and my car!) with his bare hands -- I think his name is the least of my concerns!

More so, I'm just interested in not sharing that monster's fate!!

"What does it matter to someone's gonna die in the next minute?" He laughs, loudly cracking his knuckles.

I quickly and silently wonder what state they'll find my body in next morning, and whether or not that trashy news station would blame my death on aliens.

"Um, s-stand back. I'm warning you."

Unsurprisingly, he keeps walking forward.

Suddenly, there's a crash from the alleyway and he quickly turns around to look.

"Ugh!" He yells. "Stay back there if you don't want to get killed!"

"What, I thought you were the one who wanted to kill me?!"

He ignores me.

Another crash, and a loud, ear piercing roar. The first thing to emerge from the shadows of the alleyway are a couple of wriggling limbs, like long and grotesque human arms. A dark mass pushes itself out from between the buildings -- it's hard to discern the exact shape of it, but it seems like some sort of horrifying amalgamation of dozens of mismatched limbs and faces. Upon further inspection, the heads all seem to be vaguely human, hairless, expressions permanently contorted in what seems to be endless pain.

"What… what the hell?!"

Before the teenager can say anything, with a discordant roar made up of several broken, wailing voices, the monster stands up at full height, its largest limbs splaying out like the legs of a spider as it towers at nearly the height of the apartment buildings. The multiple heads sticking out of the top rear back, extending their long wriggling necks, and claw-like limbs reach out toward us with frightening speed.

With one hit, we're both knocked back into the alley behind us. He manages to stay on his feet, keeping his balance with balanced ease. I, on the other hand, land hard on my back and roll for a few yards. I wince in pain as I look back up. The monster is following us, sauntering forward on its many legs.

"Oh, screw this!" The demon guy throws off the chainsaw he'd had on his back onto the ground and charges. Even though he's far less than half the height of the monster, he surprisingly seems to be holding it off well, dodging between its attacks and parrying with hits and kicks when he can.

But it becomes apparent that though he's holding it off for now, he'll have a hard time keeping it up. Despite his confidence, every time he steps in to get closer to its body, he gets knocked back by its limbs to where he was before, and eventually we'd lose all our space and get cornered in the alley.

I shift my gaze over. The chainsaw lays on the ground in front of me.

I scoot over to get a closer look.

I wonder why he left it behind?

I flip the chainsaw over and open the hatch on the engine.

The mechanics are unfamiliar, as if it hadn't been designed by the conventions of a normal chainsaw. Regardless, it still seems manageable. In fact, the part that needs replacing is all too familiar.

No wonder he hadn't been using it -- of course this thing wouldn't be working correctly!

"You've got to be kidding me," I say.

I look in my arm. In my hurry I hadn't even dropped the plastic bag from the parts shop, and it's still slung around my forearm. I kneel on the ground and pour out all of those tools engine parts.

After scanning the blade for jams and checking over the motor parts, it seemed that issue was very simple and very common.

From the heap of spare parts, I take out the spark plug.