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There were a lot of those.
Unperturbed, I continued scrolling, even hitting on the rarely usednext pagebutton to see more results. It was here I found something interesting. A blog targeting my city, my home, with theories there were not only demon sightings within the city, but there was an entire demon population living amongst us without our knowledge.
Interesting.
Unsettling.
Clicking the link, I scrolled through the blog’s discussion, which had an increasing number of contributors over the past five years, and the discussion continued to be active up to only last week. I read the most recent entries.
I swear to God my old CEO was a demon, the man oozed sexual prowess, and I swear he could make women orgasm just by looking at him.
Sounds like a fun guy, but not exactly what I was searching for. Until I continued reading.
I had met my boyfriend for a bit of fun during my lunch break, if you know what I mean, and after my break, I needed to drop off some reports to the boss. He wasn’t my direct boss, I worked in a different department, but I had seen him around. When I walked into his office, he looked up before I had even knocked, his nostrils flared, and he tilted his chin as though he wassmellingme. He made some comment aboutafternoon delight,and I thoughtoh my God, do I smell like sex? Surely not. Then there was a flash of yellow across his eyes, and I knew I didn’t imagine it. I never told anybody, so when I saw other reports of people seeing yellow eyes on people, it gave me the chills. I always got weird vibes from that guy. I quit shortly afterward. And now reading all this and people are saying there aremoredemons around the city, this is terrifying to me. I think I’m going to move.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the computer screen, tapping a pen against my chin. Something like this could easily be discarded as the ravings of a woman who had an overactive imagination, but given all the other examples, and exactly as she had mentioned, so many others had all seen the yellow eyes. Including me.
I had tried to be so steadfast in my assurance to myself I wasn’t crazy, but now I knew other people had seen the same thing. This meant I could tell the inner part of myself that harbored a seed of doubt, I definitelyhadn’timagined it. All these people, without any prior connection to each other, all reported the same thing and in several areas across the city. This city.Mycity. All different people with yellow eyes—CEOs, everyday laborers, people in nightclubs—this couldn’t be ignored.
I tapped out a reply to the poster.
I’m ex-military, and I’m trying to investigate all these reports. Can you tell me where you worked or at least what area of the city the business is located?
I left it at that, short and simple.
I couldn’t sit here staring at the screen waiting for a reply, so I moved on to research in another tab, typing…
How to kill a demon
RAY
Finding the perfect combination, it was hard not to laugh at the fact other demons hadn’t figured it out yet. How stupid can they be?
Did I walk around the apartment I broke into last night and sing loudly about how smart I was? Maybe.
Of course, I had heard the tales of demons who had come to the surface, promptly lost control of their cover, killed one or several people, and had been returned to Hell, never to have another chance at life on the surface. There had been other stories too, the rarer ones where a demon had killed a human without consequences, when they had lost control and were worse than animals, being left to go free after they had killed.
Some thought this meant we were no more than pawns for God to use.
I wasn’t so sure.
But all that was well above my pay grade, and frankly above my care factor now, and being sent back to Hell without the chance of another surface visit wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. Besides, humans were like little pets, weren’t they? Kind of cute and helpless. Unless they were actively trying to kill me, I had no real reason to kill them first.
Pawns of God? I don’t think by any stretch of the imagination what I’m doing could be consideredGod’s work.
But I had figured it out, cracked it, found a way to have the best of both worlds.
If I caused all the destruction I wanted—got into fights and allowed my bloodlust the freedom to explore Earth, even in controlled circumstances—I could get away with it.
But if—and this was the key—if, and only if, I kept it directed at therightpeople—the criminals, the low-lifes, and the ones who hurt other humans. The pimps and gang members, the drug dealers and cooks-of-all-things-illegal, rapists, and suspected murderers—people who were the worst of humanity.
They had made their choices to do what they were doing, and if I had my fun with them, well, then there were no consequences.
As long as I didn’t kill them.
So, I’ve been tearing down their places of business where all they do is hurt other people, putting the people who work there in their place before burning their businesses to the ground. How can God be mad at that?
I’m helping but for selfish reasons.
