Page 79 of Hollow

“Swear to whichever lesser deity you wish,” Astaroth retorted. “It will not assist you.”

As Astaroth approached, Patrick threateningly pointed his device at Dimitri, who flinched, bracing for the impending pain.

“Stop,” Jack insisted. “He can hurt Dimitri—kill him even.”

“Who can do such things?” Astaroth tilted his head. “This mortal?”

Patrick scowled at Astaroth, unwavering in his rage. “One more step, creature, and everyone dies.”

“Well, that was the plan, but I suppose if you insist, certainly.” Astaroth sized up Patrick Hearst, taking him in with a squint in a way that suggested he still struggled to tell the difference between most mortals. “You are the feeble mortal who deems himself the emperor of his family fortune, correct?”

“Enough of this.” Patrick released his thumb just enough to send a shocking pulse at Dimitri.

Jack tensed, frightened by the surge of electricity about to hit the love of his life. Dimitri braced himself, awaiting the pain. Only it didn’t hit. Nothing happened. Seconds ticked by, and still, nothing happened. Not a single thing. This wasn’t some misread either. Jack watched as Patrick slapped the device, attempting to trigger severe pain. He turned to Dimitri, who stared, just as perplexed by the turn of events.

“If you mean to torture my preferred servant with that chip in his head, you are wasting what little time you have left on this mortal coil.”

“What the hell?”

“As a former resident of Hell, I can answer that.” Astaroth had a wicked grin that almost looked silly given his floppy ears and saggy cheeks. “Once I realized who you were, why you had come, I went to work contacting those within the company who pledged their fealty.”

“What?” Patrick’s face fell in surprise.

“After your fallen patriarch threatened my servants, I took it upon myself to investigate the Hearst companies,” Astaroth continued, unfazed by Patrick’s bewildered confusion. “Your father put in great efforts to hide his gains, breaking the control of the companies to bury assets in seemingly innocuous ways. He believed it to his benefit, strengthening his grip on the world while hiding his true power.”

Jack studied Astaroth’s words, doing his best to piece together this revelation.

“Perhaps under his flagship, he might have noticed when I made inquiries,” Astaroth said. “Though I still doubt he would have stopped my maneuvers.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I took your company, obviously,” Astaroth gloated. “All that wealth and you didn’t even notice it slipping between your fingers. Pathetic.”

“No, no, no.” Patrick pulled out his phone, performing his own investigation into his assets.

“I don’t have everything, of course, but enough to compel the ticky tacky typy humans who work beneath you to obey my commands.”

“The what?” Jack asked, still trying to process how Astaroth of all people—well, dogs…or more precisely demon dogs bent on global destruction—would and could help in this situation.

“The ticky tappy humans who fight at their screens, making foes weak with broken codes and malicious content.”

“You mean you own his tech guys, the IT department?”

“That’s what I said,” Astaroth huffed, then perked his ears up at Patrick, who seemed to be scrambling through his phone. “None of your feeble technologies will work here. None of your fortune will buy your way out of this situation.”

Patrick trembled in such a way, it incited Jack’s murderous streak, but he contained himself, trying to understand the situation before he did something foolish.

“How did you do this?” Jack asked, amused and impressed by Astaroth.

“I craved to expand my empire, so I figured the Hearst conglomerate would pair nicely with my own companies,” Astaroth explained as if it were the simplest of things. “I sent mortal proxies to handle my affairs. Such trivialities tire me. They paid off a few mortals, slaughtered a few more, and easy peasy lemons are sleezy.”

“That is not the expression.” Jack shook his head.

“Now, to finalize my corporate takeover, removing the current head will make my bid all the more appealing to the noxious board of executives.”

“Wait.” Patrick held up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait.”

“You have nothing to offer or oppose me,” Astaroth said, staring at Patrick with what one could only assume was pity. Not for his impending death but for his pathetic plea for mercy. This demon dog offered many things, but mercy was not among them. “Quite frankly, begging is just sad at this point. At least try to embrace your death with a bit of dignity. I know I shall take great pleasure in devouring your soul. Don’t sully the taste with weeping.”