The men were driving through his neighbourhood; they passed his home.
Sam gripped the steering wheel of the Charger tight, letting his grip go only to change gears. His eyes were fixed in front and his face was contorted into a mask of sheer concentration that if Jess had seen him then she would have thought he had finally lost his mind. As his concentration stayed fixed on the car ahead he noticed none of what happened around him; at where he was going or the never changing landscape on either side.
The 2008 SRT8 Charger did well to keep up with the Chrysler ahead of him. He was glad for it. It also had a full tank, which was fortunate because he had no idea how far he was going to have to travel. Fortune it would seem was his today, as if the fates were themselves aiding him to catch up with the men.
He had not given much thought as to what he would do when he picked the car. He had rushed to the first car his eyes fell upon; the first one that would give him least trouble breaking into. Then it was a matter of hot-wiring. But then that was second nature to him by then.
The car ahead of him finally started to slow down. With no intersection in sight, he was hopeful that they were finally wherever it was that they were heading.
He parked the Charger a few houses down as the Chrysler turned into a house similar to his. The car didn’t pull into the garage, as the two men got down and picked up their groceries. Their behaviour should have struck Sam but then he was not concerned with their behaviour. His interest was elsewhere.
He waited until the two men were inside before stepping out of the Charger and making towards the house.
He moved cautiously so as to avoid attracting the attention of any curious eyes. There was, of course, no one in sight. But then someone could happen to peek out from the rows of curtained windows that lined either side of the street.
He reached the house and carefully made towards the door.
He paused for a second trying to decide whether he was going to pick the lock or just break in. When, for whatever reason, he decided to try the knob. It turned and the door opened.
He hesitated again before remembering why he was here.
He pushed the door open and walked into the house.
He had barely stepped into the house when he found himself flying through the air.
He slammed against a wall, hard enough that he felt the air knocked out of his lungs.
He then found himself pinned against the wall; his brain starving for air.
Finally, he found the strength to regain his senses and air into his body.
His eyes immediately fell on the two men he had followed.
One was facing Sam, his hand stretched out towards him and his eyes as black as coal. The other, strangely enough, was turned towards the first demon and seemingly in an argument with him. The second demon’s words were not clear, he just heard the tone, which sounded extremely agitated. The second demon’s eyes were still normal but Sam could still smell the stench that was present at the supermarket.
Soon enough he started to hear exactly what the second demon was saying. He was having a one-way argument with the other and he seemed to be trying hard to persuade the other demon to let him go.
‘Strange’ should have been the word that should have sprung into his head at the moment. But Sam’s mind was preoccupied with other thoughts. Like what he would do once he got free from the demon’s hold.
For a second he almost wished he had his old powers back.
However, for all the second demon’s efforts, the first one seemed to have no intention of letting go.
‘At least he was not trying to kill him’
Finally, he heard the second demon scream out in desperation:
“You really want to screw all this up and go back to hell?”
At that Sam found himself again flying through the air.
This time he didn’t slam into a wall, instead, he hit the floor and slid several feet.
As Sam fought to get back on his feet, the first demon turned to the second and gave him a cold and evil stare. Sam took the opportunity to look around him.
He was in a dining room of sorts. It was not partitioned off from the rest of the house. Actually, for all the house’s outward similarity to his own, that was where it ended. It was clear to Sam, instantly, that his memory of his own home was of no use here.
No matter how hard he looked around him, he couldn’t find anything to use as a weapon. The house looked as if it had been picked from a Martha Stewart catalogue. All light and bright, everywhere he looked, with nothing sharp or metallic in sight.
Suddenly he realized that the sounds of the demons had died down and he turned instinctively to where they were. Just in time to see the first demon charging towards him.
His eyes were still black and demonic as before. But now, his face was also twisted and looked nothing human at all. His once handsome face was hideously twisted into a snare. Sam could see clearly the veins stretching across his face.
There was no doubt what his intentions were as he made towards him.
By then, the other demon had himself gone silent.
The demon bent down and picked Sam up and slammed him against another wall.
Pictures on the walls shook and fell down. Sounds of china and glass rattling in a cabinet nearby filled the air. As the demon pinned Sam hard against the wall, its face was inches from Sam’s.
Sam could feel his hot breath against his skin. And the stench was strong and pungent that it took all his strength to fight the urge that brewed inside of him.
“It’s going to be worth it, to get the chance to rip this do-gooder’s face off,” the demon said as his sneered at Sam.