Below is the first chapter of the second part of ‘Demon Hunters’. If you feel you’re missing something, you can always buy the book. Just sayin’.
I looked up at the clock on the wall. It was half past two in the morning. I was sitting at the table in the briefing room. That’s what the arresting officer called it. I had been left there nearly a half hour earlier and still I waited. I looked across the table at the mirror on the wall. I checked my hair. It was a little messy, but I liked it like that. A few scars on my face here and there, but I liked having a face with character. It was hard to stifle a little laugh, though. Did the cops really think that fooled anyone anymore? Anyone who’s seen Law & Order knows the deal.
The door suddenly opened and someone came in. The suit registered as a man, but I looked at the face and saw it was a woman. She had very short, black hair and she sat down across from me and slapped down a large folder onto the table.
”Hello.” She said.
“I’m Detective Samantha Reynolds. I believe we have things to discuss,” Her demeanor was difficult to read. I knew she wanted to bust my ass, but she seemed to be holding back. Her glare kept on me as if I was a small child and she was a Rottweiler who hadn’t been fed in three weeks. “Well?”
“It’s late. I’m tired. I don’t think I have to tell you exactly how much trouble you’re in right now,” I looked down at the stained floor and the events that have transpired recently dashed across my brain.
“You might have to,” I said. “I was already in some before this,” She leaned back in her chair. Her face became easier to read. Angry. Definitely angry. “You mind if I smoke?” I reached into my coat pocket for my last cigarette.
“This is a non-smoking facility. There’s a hundred dollar fine.” I pulled out my wallet along with my cigarette.
“Here,” I dropped the money down. “Two hundred. I had an extra one.” I then proceeded to light up.
“I’m sure you think you’re being very clever and funny, but that is not the case. We have your accomplices. We’ll get the information out of them if we have to.” I let out a breath, unleashing a faint cloud of smoke.
“Your hair is short.”
“I like it short.”
“You a lesbian?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“In other words, yes.”
“No. As a matter of fact, I’m not.” She said and then wiggled her ring finger at me. “Married two years.”
“Great. Congrats.” I took another drag.
“The only time you’re wasting is yours.”
“I beg to differ. I’m sure you have a lot of better things to do than sit here with me.”
“I do, but I’m getting paid for this. Are you going to talk?”
“I really don’t even know what you want to hear.”
“Fine. I’ll talk,” She opened up the envelope and pulled out some papers. She held them up in front of her face and began reading. “Jake Corba. Correct?”
“It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it.”
“Age thirty five. It says here you run a paranormal investigation firm. Interesting work?”
“It can be.”
“Now what leads a man such as yourself to such a unique career path?” I knew the tone. The same pandering attitude I always got from people when I told them what I did for a living. Ninety nine percent of the world seems to refuse to believe in the existence of anything that can’t be found in either the Bible or an encyclopedia.
“I have a demon in me.”
“Do you drink a lot? Take any drugs?” The usual follow up.
“No. Just possessed. It’s been swimming around in my soul since I was born.”
“Could you elaborate on that?” She kept up her game face, but I could see through it as clear as glass.
“I was only a few months old when it happened. My parents took me to church to have me baptized. They brought me up and the pastor said his words and as he dabbed me with holy water, that’s when it happened.”
“When what happened?”
“The creature entered me. My soul was taken over by a demon. The church burst into flames, killing my parents and the rest of the congregation. It was all pretty much downhill from there.”
“And you believe this?”
“I didn’t at first. I knew I had a demon inside of me but a lot of that night was something I didn’t care to remember. I remember the screams. I remember seeing my mother being pinned under a large beam from above. I remember her face. She was so beautiful. Her face was so serene and peaceful, despite the situation. She looked into my eyes and I looked back into hers. That’s the last thing I can recall clearly.”
“And because you were possessed?”
“It’s as good an explanation as any. I was young. I couldn’t control the thing. Are you trying to pin a thirty five year old arson case on me now?”
“No. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on now and you are not helping me. What about your partner?”
“Ivar? What about him?”
“What do you know about him?”
“Plenty. He’s kind of weird, but he’s a good guy. Smart. He knows just about everything. He’s also very spiritual. I think in some parts of the world, he’s a shaman. He told me that.”
“Does he have an address? A phone number?”
“I don’t know.”
“He works for you.”
“I know, but I’ve never had to call him or mail him anything. He just kind of shows up.”
“Is he a citizen of this country?”
“That, I admit, is embarrassing that I don’t know. It’s never really come up.”
“Tell me about the case you’ve been working on.”
“Is that what you want to know?”
“It would be a start.” I plunged my cigarette into the palm of my hand to put it out. It sizzled upon contact with my skin but I didn’t feel a thing. I could see the look on Reynold’s face. I casually dusted my palms clean and lit my last stick up.
“The last case. Fine. I’ll tell you all about this last case. Get comfy.”
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