Seven Deadly: Prime Time Evil

“.The car turned into the driveway of the normal house set far back from the road in the middle of anywhere USA. More accurately, it had been parked in a suburban neighborhood in an upper-middle-class area of northern Illinois. A town called Lake Forest, about an hour outside of Chicago. Leila did not want to be here. In fact, she wanted to be any place but here. It was at Mark’s insistence that they traveled to meet this woman. Frankie Lamb. They both knew it wasn’t her real name but getting a real name out of her had been like pulling teeth and they’d come to accept that this was the one they’d be forced to use. Mark had been conversing with her for weeks over social media. It had been up to him because she wasn’t very well versed in such things, despite being the heiress to a computer company. One she chose not to run lieu of living a normal life. Or attempting to. It wasn’t exactly that easy since she’d been initiated into the demon hunter league of the universe. Despite her initial resistance, she’d realized that it was important to help people. Save them. After all, that was why she’d chosen her original occupation as a psychiatrist. Now instead of helping people with their inner metaphorical demons, she was defeating literal, tangible demons. She wasn’t sure which one was more emotionally exhausting.

Giving Mark a glance, she shut the car off and got out, shutting the door quietly. Since they suspected Frankie of being one of the demons they hunted, it wasn’t in their best interest to let the woman know they had arrived. Mark, as usual, had a different approach. He slammed his car door and then leaned against the vehicle. She’d only known him for a few months now. He had found her in her home city of Manhattan to deliver the wonderful news. The news that informed her that no, she wasn’t crazy, the demons that she thought only she could see were real. He could see them too. She was one of only seven people on the planet that could not only see them but could fight and kill them as well. He’d been overjoyed to find her since she was the last hunter they needed to find in order to complete the seven. She had not reciprocated his enthusiasm. Even now, after their first major battle with a demon offspring known only to them as Vanigreed, she still wanted out. It was a constant battle in her mind between giving up and helping those in desperate need of it.

“Do you have to be loud everywhere we go?” She asked him.

“Not everywhere.” He shrugged. His Irish accent was in stark contrast to her own, which was very proper and American. Her parents had been able to afford the finest boarding schools to educate her. His parents had been mostly absent and he’d been nomadic for a good portion of his life. They were like night and day. The polar opposite of human beings and the last people in the universe one would expect to not only be friends but fighting demons together.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No, yeh don’t want tah do this, but yeh know we have tah do it.” He said. Even if she didn’t like to admit it, she knew he was right. Frankie was not the only one in that house. Mark had gathered enough intel to have learned that there was a young woman named Lauren and another possible demon named Gail. The only thing certain in all of this was Lauren was human. Or at least had been at some point. There was a good chance she had been possessed and if that was the case, there was little to be done about it. Well, little Mark would allow her to attempt to save her soul.

“Let’s get this over with, then.” She said and motioned to the door. Tugging on her blazer, she headed up the pathway. Mark walked after her, taking his sweet time. His shaggy hair and five o’clock shadow in stark contrast to her tight professional updo and designer business suit and shoes. Quite frankly, it looked like she had just picked up a hobo and was trying to drop him off at this house. He knocked on the door before she could try to talk him out of this again. Her nerves always got the best of her when it came to things like this. If he hadn’t been there, then she’d have never gotten anything done. Ultimately he knew how badly she wanted to save the innocent and stop the demons, no matter how much she resisted.

The door swung open moments later. Wide open. Inside was pitch black. Though it was night, it in no way should have left the house that dark. To a point where it was like looking into the deepest void of space. Leila took a step back and Frankie appeared in the doorway. Almost as if stepping out of thin air. Her eyes glowed red for the briefest of seconds, something any ordinary, non-hunter would have missed. Not them though. Once she had arrived, the lights in the house shimmered on behind her revealing a normal looking interior. Nothing like the bowels of hell one would expect a demon to be living in.

Her appearance was almost surreal. She was a tiny thing, at most, she was five feet tall. That was if she were standing on flat feet. As it was, she wore a pair of heels. Red ones. They didn’t match her outfit which was a very odd peacock pattern vintage business suit. Her hair color matched her shoes and reached down a few inches past her shoulders. Her eyes were huge and green. Her mouth seemed to large for her face and as she smiled it almost looked like she had too many teeth for the size of her skull. The look was as if someone was trying to recreate what a human should look like but wasn’t quite accurate enough. It was hard to tell if she was a demon herself or just a human who had been possessed so long by a demon she’d lost all sense of her own humanity. Either way, they were staring down at pure evil. That was for sure. Frankie’s gaze shifted between her and Mark before settling on Mark as she chose to address him first.

“You must be Mark. We’ve been expecting you.” She said, holding her hand out. He took it and shook it firmly. Before he could speak, her head turned and she looked Leila over. “Who is this pretty young thing?”

“Leila. My girlfriend.” Mark said. Leila nearly corrected him on that statement because they absolutely were not dating and in the car, their discussed cover story had been that she would pose as his sister. He changed it without asking her but if she started to fight it in front of this woman, or thing, they’d only look suspicious. He’d know she couldn’t fight it because she’d know that.

“Oh,” Frankie said, her friendly tone dropping to a more displeased one, “Well, the more the merrier I suppose. Come in, then.” She turned and stepped into the house. Leila hesitated. Mark put an arm around her shoulders and stepped in, forcing her to take a step as well. He was six feet tall and a wall of muscle. There was no way she was going to get out of that hold naturally, and to do so would make their new cover story look like a lie. The door shut behind them, seemingly of its own accord. This caused Leila to jump slightly. She took a deep breath and tried to remain as calm as possible given the current situation.

“Very lovely home yeh have,” Mark said, keeping up the act and doing it far better than she could have in the moment.

“Thank you, Mark.” Frankie said, “So, is she a fan?”

“New one, aye.” Mark nodded, “Isn’t that right?” He looked over at her and she was startled into action, nodding her head gently.

“Yes,” She agreed, “Butcher is an amazing show. Can’t get enough of it.”

“Everyone loves Butcher.” Frankie said, “Bryce Firestone is a genius. I’m his biggest fan. I follow him on Twitter, he follows me back. He thinks my website is the best fan-run website in the entire fandom.”

“Bryce?” Leila said. Mark gave her a subtle jerk since he was still holding his arm around her shoulders. The only reason she was questioning this was that the name Frankie had just given them was the name of her actual boyfriend. It wasn’t that she was unaware that he was a TV show writer, creator, producer...whatever, it was that she had not been informed that he’d written this show.

Of course, Mark would be the first to ask her how that had never come up but it hadn’t. She wasn’t one to watch much TV and when she did it was the news or a documentary. Mostly, she was reading books or working on her own papers to publish in psychiatric journals. Drama, thriller, and other horrific TV shows were nothing she was interested in. She supposed that’s why Bryce had liked her so much upon initially meeting her. She wasn’t a fan of his so she wasn’t there to blow smoke up her ass. Except, now all she could think about was how he might tie into this, and even worse, what the demons may want with him. She turned her head slowly to glare at Mark, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned this to her far before now.

“Yes, the creator of the show. Wow, you really are new to the fandom.” Frankie said, sounding completely unamused.

“Just binge-watched the show with me last week. She may be a bit rusty on the lore.” Mark said quickly, his voice nearly condescending. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. As it currently stood, she never wanted to see the show considering what they were about to embark on.

“Then she doesn’t know how great he is?” Frankie asked, “Everyone should know how great Bryce is. He is a genius. A borderline God. You watched the show with him and didn’t even stop to think about who may have created it?”

“Guess I’m just not that much of a fan?” Leila said.

“Nonsense, don’t be shy. She’s being shy.” Mark insisted, “So, how about a tour?”

“I don’t think we have time for a-”

“Yes, a tour.” Frankie interrupted her, almost as if she hadn’t even attempted to speak in the first place. Leila was very unnerved by this woman, especially the tone of her voice. Not to mention that it looked like she’d gotten dressed in the dark while her makeup attacked her. Frankie stepped off to the side and through an archway that led into the dining room. Mark followed, pulling her with him.

Everything in here was too neat, too clean. It seemed far more staged than it did homey. Each place at the table had been set. Fine china, crystal glasses, silverware. There was morbid yet beautiful art framed and hung on the walls, as well as very interesting statues of ghouls, ghosts, and body parts. The decor was elegantly creepy. Formal and haunted. A mixture of ease and discomfort that was starting to make her nauseous. Frankie stopped by the head of the table and looked around as if she were an actual tour guide and this house held some significance beyond being a house. Or a movie set, because it felt far more like that.

“This is the dining room, as you can see.” Frankie said, “The china was imported from-”

“You know,” Leila cut her off, “As interesting as this is and as much as Mark seemed to have time for a tour, I don’t. I thought we were here to meet the others. Learn about this...group?”

“Everyone who wants to be part of the group needs to take the tour. It’s the rules.” Frankie insisted. “What is this huge rush you are in any way? Mark said that you had plenty of time to devote to me. You even took time off of work, didn’t you?”

“Well yes, but it was a long trip and-”

“She gets really cranky when she’s tired. I do apologize.” Mark said. Leila felt her eye twitch. This was the first time she’d ever communicated with Frankie. He had been talking to her online and via skype voice chats for months but she’d never tried to get in the way of that. Never bothered to learn about this group and their weird house and cosplay or...whatever Mark had been calling it before. It hadn’t interested her. Seemed like such a waste of time and energy. Now she was wishing she’d at least paid some attention because apparently there were initiation rites and though Mark was privvy to them, she wasn’t. Her demeanor was coming off as rude and rushed in her zeal to figure out what was going on and get the hell out of there.

“Yes, he’s right. Sorry.” She said, in what felt like the most forced apologetic tone ever. Frankie didn’t seem to realize it was forced, and if she did, it wasn’t something that fazed her.

“You need to follow the rules if you want to be in our group. Mark, I told you, this is why I don’t like others coming around if they don’t know how to behave.” Frankie said.

“It was a last minute change. I should have informed yeh, Im sorry. Really.” He said sounding more sincere in the moment than she had the energy to muster. Frankie’s eyes shifted between the two of them for a moment before she gave a nod and continued on with her speech about the dining room, the china, the art, and the entire history of the house and who had lived there since the beginning of time. Not caring very much about any of this, Leila allowed herself to zone out and attempt to swallow down her panicked thoughts that these demons were after Bryce. Why else would they have started this weird cultish house based on a show he was writing?

After what felt like an eternity, Mark was pulling her into the kitchen and Frankie was still droning on and on about everything. She spoke thousands of words a minute but said nothing of value. Her tone of voice was akin to jamming a fork into an ear and twisting it. She wondered how Mark was able to tolerate it but he may have been desensitized. He had heard her voice plenty of times before now over the computer and his phone. She hadn’t.

The kitchen was a bit less creepy than the dining room. At least when it came to the art and decor. Everything in here was very modern and sleek. All the latest and best appliances. Once again the table was set as if people were about to come join them for a meal at any moment. The only odd thing out of place with this was there was food on each plate. Not real food. It was wax or plastic. It was too perfect to be real, making the whole setting surreal and uneasy. At very least, with Mark’s arm around her like that she felt protected. Not something she’d ever willingly admit to him but he wasn’t letting Frankie get too close to her and she was fine with that. She didn’t want that thing anywhere near her. Especially not within striking distance.

Finally, they were winding their way back into the foyer where they had entered. Leila took note of the art on the walls as they reached the bottom of the steps. Mark had not been lying about her seeing the show, binge-watching (as he had put it) so she was relatively aware of what was in the show. Most of the time she’d been reading a book while it was marathoned in front of her. Mark would poke her from time to time to get her to watch any scene that he deemed important for her to know about. She really didn’t get the appeal of this show or understand why anyone else would. The art, she was seeing, at least the paintings, were definitely related to the show. It seemed to be the main characters over and over. A man named Hugh Larson and another named Will Garrison. The only problem was that a lot of this art was homoerotic, as well as gory. Very well done and photorealistic, but the show she’d watched personally, had absolutely no sexual tension between those two men.

“Now, it’s time to meet the rest of the staff.” Frankie said, grabbing onto the banister and swinging herself around until she hopped onto the first step. Leila gave Mark a look.

“Staff?” She asked slowly.

“Aye, staff.” Mark nodded as if all of this made complete sense to him and was completely normal. Maybe it did make sense to him, he’d been briefed before now, but it absolutely was not normal. The only thing she could do from that point was follow Frankie up the stairs with him close behind.

After traversing a hallway that seemed far longer than should fit in the house, if one were to judge by the exterior, they came to a door. Frankie opened it up and let it swing to reveal two other females. One was overweight, dressed in what would have been a fancy three-piece suit had it not been so dirty. The other was hunched over an artist’s desk working frantically on something. It suddenly became clear who had been producing all of the art in the house. She was dressed more normally. Her blond hair pulled back into a braid and tied with a red ribbon. Leila couldn’t yet see her face but if she had to guess, this would be the human that they had debated about attempting to save. Mark still wanted to write her off as a lost cause. She took a step towards where the girl was working but Mark grabbed her arm and pulled her back before Frankie could realize that any of this had happened.

“Hugh, Frank, I would like you to meet Mark and...Lola was it?” Frankie asked turning to look at her. Leila damn well knew the woman knew her name wasn’t Lola but she tried not to let it get to her.

“Leila.” She said.

“Yes, right, Leila,” Frankie said. “They are interviewing to become new staff.”

“Both of them?” Hugh said. He or she was the obese one on the couch. Leila wasn’t one to question or judge people for their chosen gender but she had been told by Mark that the other occupants of the house were female. She also knew that Mark wasn’t one to be a dick about pronouns either, so there had to be some other explanation for this, right?

“I’m sorry, Hugh and Frank?” Leila asked.

“Cosplay,” Mark told her quickly. “He’s Hugh Larson and he’s Frank Charles.” He motioned between the obese one and the slimmer looking one so she could differentiate.

“Cosplay?”

“Dressing and behaving like the characters from the show.” Mark said then he looked at Frankie, “Sorry she’s-”

“New. I know.” Frankie said sounding even less amused with this than she had the first time it came up. Hugh got off of the couch and lumbered towards Frankie while Leila tried to figure out how they lived with the confusion of having two people with similar names. She supposed it wouldn’t be that hard if they stuck with the masculine and feminine versions all of the time. She vaguely remembered a Frank Charles in the show. She better remembered Hugh Larson because he had been the killer. The one known as The Butcher. As for Frankie, if someone were to ask her in the moment she’d have said that character was entirely made up because she couldn’t recall her, or him, in the slightest. What she did know was that despite the costume, Hugh looked absolutely nothing like the character. It didn’t matter. She’d only have to play along for a few more minutes before this would all be over. At least in theory.

“How long have our guests been here without you offering them a drink, Ms. Avery?” Hugh asked her voice a tone that denoted extreme distaste for this behavior.

“Oh right, knew I was forgetting something,” Frankie said after a long blank stare and a terribly pregnant pause.

“I’m fine I don’t really need-”

“Nonsense. It’s rude not to be offered a refreshing beverage. Frankie and I will get you one post haste.” Hugh informed them, “What would you like?”

“Wine.” Mark said, “If I recall right, Frankie here is quite the Merlot enthusiast.”

“You remembered? That is so sweet!” She replied with a school girl giggle and wink. Mark grinned and gave her a thumbs up. It was utterly lame but for whatever reason, Frankie seemed to like this and believe he was flirting back with her. She reminded herself that Frankie wasn’t a human but a demon in human disguise she probably had no actual idea what correct social behavior was. Hugh didn’t react at all and seemed far more alien to this process. Almost as if she was some type of trained pet. If anyone was the demon in this situation it was Frankie, she was leading them. It was harder to tell with Hugh. Given the fact that Frank hadn’t looked up once and was still working on her art, it was clear that she was the human but completely under demon control. They’d have to get to her when these two left to grab the drinks.

“And you, Leila?” Hugh asked.

“I have to drive so, water is fine.” She said.

“Bad luck to toast with water,” Frankie told her, the tone of voice changing from flirty and light-hearted to dead serious at a moment’s notice.

“Very bad luck.” Hugh agreed.

“Nothing’s too much trouble for Frankie,” Frank muttered, speaking for the first time since they’d arrived. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. It was robotic, a response that had been programmed into her. The statement wasn’t even appropriate for the topic of conversation going on. Leila felt a shiver run through her and she took in a deep breath.

“Fine, juice, soda, anything non-alcoholic should be fine,” Leila said quickly.

“Coming right up.” Frankie’s tone was still far too serious and bordering on annoyed as she glared at Leila and turned to leave. Hugh followed. A few moments after they vanished in the hall, the door slammed shut of its own accord. Leila jumped, and a moment later she heard a scratch. It was similar to how a pen would sound if it was dragged deeply across wood. This caught her attention and she turned to see Frank had dropped her pen and it was rolling off the desk. It hit the floor and she looked up. Her head turned and her eyes flashed red before going back to their normal, icy blue tone.

“Nothing’s too much trouble for Frankie.” She repeated. Leila stepped towards her and got down to look into her eyes. She didn’t blink. She then turned towards Mark.

“She’s still in there, her soul. We have to help her.” She insisted.

“By help yeh mean kill, yeah?”

“No, I don’t mean kill. Why do you think everyone who is possessed needs to die?” She snapped.

“Yeh know as well as I do that they don’t come back.” He replied.

“They haven’t yet, that doesn’t mean they never will.” She said. “Give me the holy water.” She held her hand out insistently and he reached into his trench coat side pocket. From there he produced a vial of the stuff and placed it in her outstretched palm.

“This isn’t going to work.”

“We don’t know that until we try, now do we, how long have they had her?” Leila asked.

“Few months, maybe? She did all that art.” He pointed out.

“She’s also possessed her output would be higher.” She sighed and unscrewed the cap to the bottle. As she drew closer to Frank she heard the clamoring of footsteps in the hall. It sounded more akin to horse hoofs, or cloven ones than people. She recapped the bottle and stepped back from Frank just as the door opened. There stood Frankie and Hugh, holding a very nice tray of glasses that also held wine. Hugh grabbed one and held it out to Mark. He took it and nodded in a silent thanks. She then brought a glass to Frank and set it on the flat surface next to the tilted desk. She grabbed one for herself, and the tray was empty. There didn’t appear to be a serving for Frankie.

“We should toast then,” Frankie said.

“I didn’t get anything,” Leila spoke up. No sooner than those words had left her lips did a bottle of juice come flying at her head. Luckily, she had the presence of mind to reach up and snatch it before it would have hit her. “Thanks.”

“What should we toast to?” Hugh asked.

“Well, Mark is the guest, perhaps he should make the toast,” Frankie suggested, smiling brightly in his direction. Leila opened her bottle of juice but she knew what was about to happen. It was why Mark had requested the red wine.

“Aye, tah new friends and great TV,” He said, lifting his glass as if he were really about to toast. Hugh and Frank did the same. The moment the glass of wine touched the lips of Hugh and Frank, Mark had something else to say. ”Pater, filius, et spiritus sancti."

The reaction to these words being spoken was quick and violent. Leila could actually hear the singe of flesh once the liquid had touched Frank's lips since she was standing so close. The lights went out and it was pitch black in there, just as it had appeared before when the door had opened before Frankie's arrival. There was a demonic screech, a door opened and slammed. When the lighting come back it wasn't the same. They were not in the same bedroom which had been contemporary and modern. Now they were in some sort of medieval dungeon-like room. The carpeted floor had become dirt. The walls were cracked, dripping with moisture, and it smelled just as musty as any basement...except a thousand times worse.

Frank was on the floor and the area around her mouth was indeed burned. The blisters there oozed and bled. Otherwise she was unharmed, at best Leila could tell from the dim lighting. She got down by Frank and put her fingers to the girl's neck to check for a pulse. It was there.

"She's alive." Leila breathed, "Oh thank God."

"There is no God here." Mark muttered, "Surprised that worked, though."

"Maybe you should try it more often." Leila told him. She took off her jacket and folded it so she could place it under Frank's head as a pillow. "What's her real name?"

"Lauren."

"Hey, Lauren...hey wake up." Leila said, gently trying to get her back to the waking world by rubbing her knuckles over the girl's sternum. It wasn't working, she felt her heart began to race in panic. "This is supposed to work."

"Maybe in the real world where yeh are a doctor, we aren't there right now." Mark said.

"Psychiatrist..." She corrected, but stood up slowly anyway and started to roll up her sleeves. "You think we are in the other realm now? The demon on?"

"Aye." He nodded. "How much yeh wanna bet what we need tah find it through that door?" The normal bedroom door that one would have found in a normal suburban house had been replaced by a very large wooden door with a very big metal latch.

"You first."

"As always." Mark said then rolled up his sleeves as well. Grabbing onto the latch he lifted it and unlocked the door. After pushing against it, it became clear that he wasn't going to be able to move it by himself. Leila reached into her pocket to grab her rosary beads (which was also her weapon of choice for demon killing) and came over to give him a hand. With their combined weight they were able to get it to budge and then swing open a few feet.

"What about Lauren, do we just leave her there?"

"Do yeh have a better idea?" Mark asked, "If she's meant tah survive she'll come back with us when we are sent."

"Hope you are right." Leila sighed and giving Lauren one last look, she headed out into the hallway with Mark.

Once again, this hallway looked far too long to be in the house that they had entered. However, they were no longer in that area of the world, or even close to it. They were in the demon realm because they were going to have to fight. What Mark had said right before the drinking of the wine, had blessed it just enough to expose the demons for who they were (or effect anyone who had been possessed). Though the general public was of the mind that a priest must be the one to bless things, the reality of the situation was that it didn't work exactly that way. Leila was learning more and more that the ritual, words, and imagery had power over the demons no matter who was using it, or what their religion was. Which was good, considering they already had a few hunters that weren't anywhere near Catholic.

There was dirt in this hallway as well. It seemed like they might be in a basement because there were no windows to this place, but as the demon realm didn't operate exactly like the one they knew on earth they could, in theory, be floating high above whatever ground there may be. This was all just a projection of the head demon, more than likely Frankie, and what she wanted them to see. The only possible way for their human minds to interpret the demon realm which in all likelihood looked nothing like this. The walls seemed to go up forever, Leila couldn't even see a ceiling or a light source, though it was surely there as things were not pitch black. They slowly continued down the hall until they were met with a set of double wooden doors, just as large as the one they had just stepped through to get out here.

"We have to go in there, don't we?"

"Aye. I'll go first, I know you want me tah." Mark chuckled and put his hand on the latch. Before he moved it, he removed his own weapon from the inside of his trench coat. It was a beautiful celtic cross with a blade that shot from the bottom. Religious symbology was the best tool in fighting and ultimately killing the demons when they had to do it. Though it wouldn't work on royal demons (unless under specific circumstances) it worked on the rest. They did theorize Frankie to be one of the royals but ultimately, they didn't know. She supposed they'd find out once they entered into battle with her. If they won, then she wasn't if they lost...well they were just going to be eternally fucked but at least they'd have an answer.

Once again, Leila had to lean against the door with him to get it to budge. It certainly seemed like this was set up so they'd both need each other to get out of a room once they had entered it and Leila did not like that idea at all. She knew she had no choice but to follow Mark into the newest room, and boy was it ever a change from the hallway they had just left.

The walls were decorated with various gold, jewels, treasure and other morbid things. Gold encrusted skulls and other human bones that she could recognize. Some were just the singular bones and some were full, like hands and feet. Jaws and teeth. There were also gold leafed internal organs. Hearts that were still beating, blood oozing down the walls. Tongues and eyeballs. It was beautiful in a way that it was also terrifying. The floor seemed to be made of solid gold and there were mounds of diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. Just in piles here and there. The furniture made from human body parts, bones, and organs. Things that seemed like they definitely shouldn't be but absolutely were.

"Don't touch anything," Mark warned.

"Wasn't planning on it." She whispered back. She looked up, and even though she could not see a ceiling she did notice that there were lanterns floating here and there, which was the current source of light. The room was massive, but at the very tail end of it she could see a large throne. One that was definitely suited for a royal demon. Maybe that's what they were, but if that were the case, they were nowhere to be found. At least not in this room they weren't. Mark walked ahead of her as she wrapped the rosary beads around her hand and tried to steady her breathing.

"They take us here only tah vanish? Where the fuck are they?" Mark asked. As if on cue, a very large demon dropped down behind him. The sheer size of the thing caused the floor vibrations strong enough to shake. This demon towered over Mark and was nearly twelve feet tall. Its skin was tinged green, it's eyes blood red. Its mouth opened and jaw unhinged showing jagged fangs and a forked tongue slithered out. Unlike the typical paintings and other images of demons, this one had antlers (all of them did) and it let out a very loud roar. Leila covered her ears and ducked down, closing her eyes tightly.

Everything shook and trembled and she was knocked back. A cry left her as she hit the ground and opened her eyes once again only to find herself in some sort of fighting arena. Her head spun and her mind buzzed. She would never get used to how easily they could be transported on the whim of one of these demonic creatures. The thing swung at Mark but he dove out of the way, moving behind it quickly. Leila steadied herself and ran towards the creature, screaming out in anger and fear only to be knocked back as a reflex, clear across the room. She landed on the floor once more, skidding across it and coming to a dead stop. The last thing she saw before blacking out was the creature taking yet another swing at Mark.

The next thing she was aware of was opening her eyes to see Mark using his blade to cut through the massive neck of that demon, removing its head from its body and tossing it aside. He spat on the carcass and wiped his hands off on his coat. Not that it would do much good considering he was already covered in demon blood. It was not anything near the same as the blood that ran through their own veins. No, it was far different. It was a black, viscous mess. Foul smelling, worse than raw sewage. With the larger more powerful demons it typically contained maggots and other parasites. It was the life force of those creatures. Liquid evil.

"Mark..." She breathed. When he heard her, he stopped what he was doing and got down by her side. She winced at the smell, putting her hand over her mouth and nose.

"Got a nice bruise there," He said, reaching to touch her face with his muck coated hands. She shied away from him quickly. Not only did that stuff smell awful but it hardened into a weird shell very quickly and was a bitch to clean off unless you had a bunch of holy water on hand.

"I'll be fine." She replied. "You killed her then? Killed...Frankie?"

"Not her...It. Don't think those things have gender. Not in the way we do."

"Whatever doesn't matter." She got to her feet, trying to avoid breathing in through her nose. The walls around them shimmered and shook, expanded and contracted until suddenly they were back in the bedroom of the suburban house they had started in. Lauren was on the bed, laying on her back, she had a laptop resting on her chest with her arms clasped over it tightly. Her eyes still closed.

"Fuck...I will never get used tah that." Mark said, stumbling before catching himself and his balance by leaning against the bed. She, unfortunately, had to do the same which meant running into him and getting some of that demon blood on her. The only saving grace to this was that since other humans couldn't see the demons, they also couldn't see or smell the blood. It was lucky for them because there had been plenty of situations where they'd needed to kill demons and then walk home (especially back in Manhattan) so at very least they remained unsuspicious to the general public when that happened. "Nice tah see yeh too..." He grinned and put his arm around her since she was against him.

"Stop that." She whined and slapped at him so he'd let her go. It was too late, her clothes were now streaked with muck. She made a face and attempted to suppress a gag. Mark snickered and noticed Lauren on the bed. He motioned to the computer she was hugging.

"How much yeh wanna bet we need that?" He asked.

"You take it from her," Leila said, removing her blouse so she was in the tank top under it instead. Most of the demon blood had gotten on that, there was very little on her pants. "You're changing before we get in my car this time you know."

"Yeah yeah..." He dismissed her with a flippant hand gesture and leaned into Lauren. After a moment, he snatched the laptop from her and held it up. "Piece of cake." Lauren started to stir.

"She's waking up," Leila said.

"Bye!" He ran out of there very quickly, and she was unsure if it was because he really didn't want to deal with her or because he thought she might still be possessed. Leila wasn't that quick to bail, though. She had to check on this girl who couldn't have been any older than 20 years. Lauren's eyes opened and she looked around the room before sitting up quickly.

"Woah, easy there," Leila told her and moved to the bed to sit down by her side. "Do you remember where you are? Who you are?"

"Yeah I...my name is Lauren and...who are you?" She asked. "Lola? Something like that."

"Leila...it doesn't matter. The important thing is that you are okay." Leila insisted.

"I...I think I'm fine. My mouth kind of-" She trailed off and put her hand to her lips, which were indeed still burned. "Where's Frankie and Hugh...why are you here? What's going on?"

"That's a long story and you wouldn't believe me if I told you." Leila said, "Go home, Lauren. Okay? You aren't safe here. Is there anyone I can contact who-"

"No." She said and shook her head, "I'll be fine...thank you?"

"Don't mention it." Leila said and stood up, "I'm serious, go home as quickly as you can. Really."

"But how will I-"

"You won't need to talk to me or thank me, the important thing is you are safe and you stay that way. Good luck." Leila didn't want to leave her there like that but it was better that way. To sit there and try to explain what happened would take too long and it was definitely against their code of conduct. That code being that absolutely no one was allowed to know any of this unless they were another hunter. Lauren wasn't. As much as she wanted to marvel at the fact that she'd successfully saved someone from possession for possibly the first time in history, she couldn't. Since Mark knew so much about Lauren before coming to this house, it would be easy enough to check up on her and make sure that she got home safely. Beyond what she had done, she wasn't allowed to meddle further. Especially since it could make Lauren unsafe, it could put a target on her back for the demons to get her again. Once a person had been taken it was easier to take them again and that was the last thing Leila wanted or Lauren needed.

She left the house, which was set up exactly as it had been when they arrived. Mark was outside, he'd stripped out of his trench coat and pants, much to her chagrin, and was bagging them up in trash bags that she kept in her trunk. His state of undress didn't seem to bother him and since they still had the cover of darkness she wasn't too worried about him being seen. How much time had actually passed in that house or in the demon realm was currently unknown to her but they needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. At least he'd listened to her about not getting the demon blood in her car again.

"Let's go." She said, walking to the driver side door and opening it up. He got in, as well as her, and the doors shut together. She started the car. It was amazing to think that this normal house in the middle of upper-middle-class suburbia could hide such a dark secret but it had, and it had done it well. There was a good chance that it was all just a demon projection and in 24 hours the place would no longer exist. No one in the neighborhood would have any memory of it, and it would be like these things had never happened. It took some getting used to because if it was analyzed too much it could drive a person truly insane. She could only hope that Lauren would take her advice and had the ability to get help because there was nothing more she was allowed to do other pull out of that driveway and head home.

"She gonna be okay?" Mark asked, meaning Lauren.

"I sure hope so. I wish we could do more." Leila sighed, taking one last look at the house before peeling out of there.

"Yeh saved her life, yeh did more than enough if you ask me," Mark replied.

"You wanted to kill her."

"Aye, would have been easier." He snickered. She rolled her eyes and reached to turn on the radio. It was going to be a very long and tiring trip back to Manhattan, she was going to need a distraction.