Steak and Chips

I always expected a stakeout to be fun. Interesting, even a little entertaining. But me and Lass were sitting in the car for nearly three hours before an impromptu game of I Spy had begun.

Of course I had tried to send Lass into the building, invisible, as it would have been the easiest method to check the place out, but there was salt at every doorway and window, he must have figured out that I was onto him, and if I had gone in to disturb the salt he would know I had been in there.

So we sat, waiting, watching.

"I spy, with my little eye... something... brown."

I sighed "Is it the rusty pipe again Lass?"

The rusty pipe was a drain pipe that was barely clinging to the building, an old red-brick factory from when the rust belt still ran strong and sure, probably still hooked up to the cities power grid, held together now by 20's engineering and a long rotted American dream it was built on.

"Poo, this game is only really ever good when you are driving." Lascivious had gotten ahold of another cigarette from somewhere, by the smell of it, it was cheap, blowing the smoke out the window of Levon's taxi. The Jamaican decided about an hour ago that this wasn't any fun at all, and called up one of his employees to pick him up, leaving me and Lass with the keys, neither of us having a clue how to drive.

"This game is never good Lass." My head was still hurting from a seemingly permanent hangover, and I desperately wanted a drink, the shakes hadn't started... Yet.

"Fine... Then we talk of other things eh? Shoes, Ships? Sealing Wax perhaps?"

I sighed. "Lass, come on, we are waiting for a few psychopaths to go into their spooky factory, and we are waiting for Charlie to get here, maybe with a few bugs or something for us to put around the building, is now really the time for small talk?"

Lass gave me a sly look, his eternal smoulder growing deeper as he said "Sure, deep talk it is... When are you going to get a girlfriend Rodney boy?"

Ughh. I wanted nothing to do with this situation, the last thing you want is to have a conversation about girlfriends with a Demon of Flirtation. It's all conquest with them, just get them in the bedroom, get in their pants, and then leave them without a word and maybe a twenty on the coffee table in the morning.

"Lass..." I started "Nope, you don't get to stop me, you have been dodging the questions since you started summoning me years ago, and you still haven't gotten some ass for yourself, if you don't find someone soon you are going to shave your own ass down from all the work your doing, until there is nothing left. You need someone Rodney, someone who is going to take the bottle away when it gets too far."

"Im fine Lassie, Grandad used to drink plenty too..." Lass looked hurt "Your grandad drank maybe a bottle of scotch on a bad day, once or twice every few months usually after a really bad job. Unless you have a really bad day every fucking day, you have a problem. You never go out, you only ever drink at home, you haven't joined the storytelling weed circle your hippie friend asked you about in months I'd bet. How many weeks worth of garbage did I pull out of your kitchen yesterday?"

Every thing he said, every time he spoke, every word hammered into me, that little wound in my soul, that pulled muscle, feeding on the care and the respect that Lass, a literal Demon, had for me. It made everything hurt, and the pain at the base of my heart, that emotional flood of spiritual pain, was apparently just as healing as it was agony.

"Fucking... Stop." I finally said, quietly, I swallowed the lump in my throat like it was a fish oil capsule. "You need friends Rodney, you need people, you need someone actually good in your life." Lass shifted in the seat, his tail flicking out and nearly smacking me in the face in the process. "You need someone that isn't me, to keep you alive. For both our sakes."

He wasn't wrong.

I had tried to quit before, I had tried to drop the bottle. The depression would come in waves, and the alcohol helped me forget it, the memories of frustration, pain, anger. The memories of assholes feeding people pizza with literal shit or glass in it, just because they didn't have a house to go to. The memories of addicts diving back into the drugs that gave them comfort, practically inviting the demons to come crawling back into their lives, after all the times I burned myself at all ends to try to save them.

I would put down the bottle, even forget about how shit life was, maybe leave the house and enjoy a sunset or two, find some good work to drown myself in... but it would always claw its way back into my life. Withdrawals would start, my bones would hurt, the bugs would start crawling under my skin... The visions would start... Mom and Dad would come back from wherever they had gone to when I left... I would be a kid again, hiding in the dark to get away from the things over their shoulders, egging them on, pushing them to do things they should have never done to children in the name of a God they barely even believed in, trying to beat the devil out of me while their own demons laughed at my suffering...

The addiction demons might have been afraid of me, but addiction's claws were still embedded deep in my soul, and the booze soothed those visions, helped me to forget... right?

"Why do you even care Lass? You are a Demon, functionally immortal, basically undying, and capable of far greater acts of strength or power than me, I call you and bind you to a contract every single time we are called up, you are basically an employee and nothing more. Why you? Why are you my fucking therapist?"

Lascivious blinked, thought about it for a second, and replied "Because, someone once showed me kindness, mercy, and goodness. Things I thought I was unworthy of. Things I am still unworthy of, for all the wrong I have done, for the embodiment of wrong that I am. I was shown kindness from a man who believed I was worth it, and he told me to swear to help you, come hell or high water."

The lump in my throat came back, bigger this time, harder to swallow, less like fish oil and more like one of those Ginkgo Biloba tablets my Mom would give me to help me "Focus." Like I had any difficulty at all focusing on the terrible things hanging over the kids and teachers at school...

Tears threatened, and it was as if a bone popped deep in my soul as the final bit of drained Grace poured into me, and I let out one small sob when Lass suddenly said "I would have fucked your grandad if he was gay."

I laughed, punched the demon in the shoulder, instantly regretting it, punching Lass was like punching steel. Whatever the hell Lass had been in the past, his strength and resilience was still there, despite his lowly station now.

"After all this is over Rodney, I am taking you out to a bar, and we are getting you a chick, mark my words. Wife material or no, you need someone who loves you, cares about you, and can help you through those hard times. And you always get extra badass whenever someone needs you."

I thought about it, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Fuck it, I'm in." I said, meaning it this time.

"But, you owe me something." Lass punched me in the shoulder, and I thought it might dislocate. "I want to be there during that weed circle story time thing at the underpass. Seeing you having to act all chill and hippie around all those guys while telling our stories, sounds like a good laugh to me."

I gave him a sad little chuckle and replied "Deal."

We kept watching the factory in silence for a while after that, just absorbing the vibe of the moment, when I saw a black car pull up at a nearby alley. Charlie.

Just then, Lass's phone, the one we stole from Petrov, started to ring. "Showtime." He said, as he answered with the thick Russian voice.

"Yeah boss?" He switched the phone over to speaker, and I kept my mouth shut while I heard a deep resonant voice, one that had a gentle Scandinavian accent say "Petrov, you're time draws near. Your time to redeem yourself."

Lass put a little grit, like heavy phlegm sitting in the back of the throat into his voice as he replied "Yes... Boss..."

"The demonologist has been on the move of late, he is working with the police, we must work quickly. Soon the slate will be wiped clean, and you and your daughter will be safe... Mark my words.
We will meet at the usual spot, in one hour, be there, or I will have to find you myself."

That last bit sounded cold, empty, and the call hung up.

"Shit..." Lass said looking over at me "What's the plan Rodney?"

"If only we could fucking get in there..." I muttered "Pass me the cell." Fumbling with the screens and functions of the unfamiliar device I eventually figured out how to call someone. Im old-fashioned, I don't like cellphones, too many people stop having good quality conversations, its all boiled down to "Look at this dope ass meme" or whatever. It takes up too much attention to me. so I never got a cell... On the bright side, it meant I was really good at memorizing phone numbers.

I called Charlie, he picked up on the first ring.

"You in the Taxi?" He asked. "Yeah, Charlie what can you get down here in an hour?"

"A couple of cruisers, maybe a SWAT if it turns out really bad, why?"

"Anything we can use to bug the building?" I asked.

"I think we have one of those satellite things that amplify sounds you point it at, I brought one just in case, and a couple wires too, figured I might as well go all in on the stakeout."

"Good, we have one hour."

"Till what?"

"All hell breaks loose Charlie, tall blonde and scary is on his way, and he's expecting his sniper to show up."
"Good, we can book the lot of em, I can get the wires ready. You sending Lass in to plant em?"

"Can't" I started to get out of the car. "He salted the whole building, but I know how and where the salt is gonna be, Get that shit ready, I will try to bug the place as quickly as I can manage."

Lass looked panicked "Rodney what happens if they catch you? I can't get you out of there!"

"I'll figure it out, don't worry about it!" I replied, as I moved over to Charlie's car, he was already digging the surveillance equipment out of the trunk to pass it to me.

"Charlie, help me out here." Lass said as I grabbed the wire mics and some Duct Tape.

"Lascivious, if you can't go in there, Rodney can, and I don't want to fuck around with any magic, Rodney's the best qualified here man."

"Watch for me on the roof, if I can get roof access, I should be able to hook up the listening dish up there, and be hidden." I said as I took my tools of the trade and started moving into the building.

I knew exactly where each of the salt lines were going to be. My exorcism jobs usually started with me sealing up the house. Too many high ranking demons of hell calling in backup from somewhere, and many of the demons that require exorcism are not really of the sin variety.

I don't know how Possession works, and I don't want to know. Lass has told me he's done it before, but I never wanted to hear the details. It's bad enough to feel your freedom taken away from you by another, whether vice or the actions of another, or even mental issues or disorders, it never feels good to have your agency stolen from you.
The idea of having that agency stolen in such a way, to be effectively violated by force, mind body and soul. It made a greasy feeling wash over me. I know that Lass could have ridden me in here by possessing me, passing the salt as if it wasn't there, but he knows I would send his ass back to the 0th circle myself if he tried it.

All I know is that the demons that do the Possession thing, aren't really the types who are trying to possess someone for souls or clout, they have everything they need in hell, they just want you. They want your body, they want the life you live, the soul you cherish, they want to crush who they can. So they seek out the spiritually weak, the abused, the hurt, even the kids who learned too early the Tooth Fairy wasn't real, and they reach out, and take them for themselves.

So I knew they weren't just going to come back of their own accord to take the same person, they would hunt down another, someone easier, someone with no guardian angel to protect them. Guess God's forces must be stretched pretty thin, considering how many kids I have ripped demons out of.
And I knew exactly where the salt was going to be, because its where I would have put it if it were me.

Most of the doors in the empty factory opened inward, and most of the salt was on the threshold, on the other side of the door. This might be for two reasons, one is it means your goons are less likely to knock over the salt piles and ruin the lines. Second is rite and purpose, see, its not just the salt, its where it is that has an effect on them. I could have tossed some salt at Lassie's boss, but it wouldn't have done more than burn her a little, and piss her off. No, its ritual, its purpose, that's what gives it power, its faith.

Regardless, walking through the mess of rebar and rusted crossbeams, I was able to step over each pile of salt harmlessly, and without issue. The place was creepy, empty, and dead silent. The only sounds in the building were my echoing footsteps and the occasional sound of a creaking beam.

I moved through a couple of open areas, eventually finding a foreman's office. The door beyond led to a small locker room and a few break rooms.

The lockers had been long rusted, quite a few were missing entirely, save for one, which looked like someone had smashed it with a sledgehammer. Probably a couple bored vandals looking for something to smash.
The break rooms were the important part though, when I opened that door, there was no salt at the base of it, and there was a large circle cut into the concrete. The circle itself was filled with salt, and it had a few small circles of salt spaced every few inches along the inside of the circle, with candles at each point.

This guy knew his shit, even if a demon managed to cross into a circle like this, with all those candles lit, and with his whole crew outside it, nothing could break in here, unless you called a Fallen or something bigger.

A Vegvisir was also cut into the stone, a compass rune, I didn't know much about them, but Lass seems to think they hold some serious power.

I looked over the circle, afraid to step over it, in case it... did something.

I didn't know how long I had been wandering, and I still needed to find a roof access. I looked up to see if there was a handy skylight in this room, and, naturally, there was not. The white paneled ceiling with about three missing panels looked back at me tauntingly.

I looked back down at the circle again, and tried to see what Lass might see. I tried to throw up those mental defenses, shoving my emotions down deep within, tempering them with order and pushing them deep inside, and there it was, much easier to find now, but still just as weak, like a tiny piece of coal, but if the embers within were white instead of red. I reached in, and placed a mental finger on the coal.

My mind was suddenly and violently flooded with light and fire. and I felt that fury flow into me again, like a controlled and pure contempt for that which was wrong, evil, those things that would dare to break His laws, His will. It felt alien now, like it wasn't really me, like I had distanced myself from kindess, forgiveness, all that was left was pure and utter Fury, hatred for all that which was Wrong, like the angry creator who threw fire and brimstone at Sodom and Gomorrah, not the one that sent a rainbow to his terrified followers who feared he might flood the world again.

I could see the light pouring out of the stave rune now, wrothful and irate, a crimson swirling thing, forged from blood and sacrifice, a crude stain on His creation. I reached forward, past the pure white salt line, which held whatever anger was swirling beyond. It lurched, reaching out for my hand, trying to cut and slice at my soul, trying to fill me with sorrow and despair, pain and loss and suffering, tried to fill me with the desire to die, the need to end my own life, the need to destroy myself with fire and pain and take this whole building out with it.
This compass had only one road, death, by ones own hand. I knew the name of the unforgivable, and uttered it as I spoke, words laced with white hot hatred. "Suicide. I cast you out!"

The white coal dimmed, a heaviness poured itself into my heart, as the heat flowed into my body and lashed against the power within the rune. It withdrew like a coiling serpent. I didn't have the power to cast it out completely, not without overexerting myself again, I could feel that now. But it would not touch me as long as I remained cloaked in light.

I stepped into the room, leaned under the table, and taped the wire to the underside of the table. The receiver was inside of Charlies cruiser, and I knew he would be recording this. I switched it on, and stepped over the salt again.

I immediately wrenched up all my feelings, emotions, sensations, wants, desires, the feelings of the flesh, of man.
I let in a gasp of air, leaning against a wall, shivering against the coldness of it, that hate, that total disregard for the person underneath the sin, that alien sense of order and righteousness that is utterly impossible to reach. It felt like I had tapped into the personality and ideas of something far older than mankind, something that witnessed the fall of Satan, and was driven to wrath against everything he stood for.
It was like I had touched the mind of something so old-testament, so ancient, so sure of what was right, that it was twisted and unwholesome to the mortal mind.
"OOooohkay..." I took a shaky breath "Not... doing that again. For, for a while at least..."

Despite the alien sense of Justice that the mind I had touched bore, that power was incredible, the white hot strength of something greater than me flowing through my veins, its honestly no wonder that Lucifer chose to fall, why he would take so many of the other angels with him, who would follow someone who wants you, a being so incredibly powerful. Perfect, pure, undying, and completely devoted to Him, to serve a bunch of random drooling primates that he threw together out of dirt and clay? That power was addictive, and turned to wicked means...

I shivered again, and looked over the room once more. sitting in the circle was a whiteboard, with some plans written out on it, and I suddenly wished I had a camera. I almost moved to take a closer look, then remembered that swirling stave rune which would probably force me to off myself and burn this place down with me. I contemplated setting up a second wire somewhere else in the room, when I suddenly heard voices, and approaching footsteps.

I moved as quickly as I could, looking all over the room to seek escape, and saw a ventilation grate in the corner, its screws were loose and corroded, and I yanked it out of the wall, quickly moving into the vent, feeling the soft torn remains of what had probably been an old rats nest being pushed into the back of the vent itself, I pulled the vent shut and felt that the grate ought to hold, let go, and shoved myself deeper into the dark. I then pulled out the listening dish, switched it on, and said "They are here early, im in a vent, be ready to call for backup if they find me" under my breath, into the dish itself, then pointed it at the vent.

"Gentlemen, it is good you have arrived." That deep resonant voice of Tall Blonde and Scary rolled through the room. "It is time to start working on our second step."

He moved past the grate, towards the whiteboard, I felt something greasy roll across my soul as the rune was deactivated, and I heard the footsteps of his two goons move in.

"What do ya need boss? I'm ready to be useful, I am ready to fight again." The first kid was eager, young, couldn't have been older than twenty. I wish I could see his face, but I couldn't risk the grate falling off and exposing me.
"Lets fuckin' kill someone again! That shit was awesome. The power..." The other one sounded older, gruffer, probably in his 40's.

I only heard three humans beyond the grate. But I felt the presence of two other entities, a sort of chemical taste along my teeth gave them away. Addiction demons, and by how thick their presence was on the air, these guys were on some heavy shit. Experimental, designer lab stuff maybe.

"Worry not my Berserkers, we will fight again to be sure. And we will spill blood in Odin's name twice more before we are done, but first we need to all be on the same page Ja?" A little of his accent spilled into the last bit, a sort of singsong norwegian.

The two men made agreeable noises, not particularly talkative these goons, and they honestly kinda sounded like cultists to me. Berserker sounded familiar too...

"We have opened the eye, now comes the time to open the door. This process requires sacrifice, from one or both of you. Thankfully, this process will be easily completed in this very building. As a matter of fact, the rune beneath our feet can be utilized for this ritual. It is quite simple."

He moved, and that greasy sensation rolled back into me as he drew upon something, I felt the rolling of wardrums, the caw of ravens, and the wrath of a hundred men in that power, I felt an eye pass over me, but the man didn't seem to react.

I heard a distant chirping squeak come from somewhere, and I prayed internally that this was an old rats nest, not a currently in use rats nest.

"Stay here gents, I must go for but a moment, allow the power to flow through you, feel that might, that strength."
The two men, started to scream.

Agonized, delirious screams that were filled with despair and sorrow, wrath and strength, and lustful desire for more all at the same time. I almost tried to move out of the grate, when the man came back. I heard the sound of a shaking pill bottle as he released the spell.

"You are brothers yes?"

"Yes, sir." said one of the brothers, breathing heavily, I couldn't tell which one.

"And you care for one another as brothers yes?"
"Yes."

"Good, that makes this easy. The police will be here very soon. Very soon. A man has been watching us, he probably has someone watching me right now. This man has powers like me, but weaker than mine. He must bargain and trade for his power while I was chosen.

They have probably just been called if the words of the Ravens are correct." He finished.

Shit, he must have realized that the sniper was missing, and knew the jig was up.

"This bottle, holds the pills you took when we performed the rite in the Zoo. One of you may have the whole thing, thirty tablets, the power of a Panzer flowing through your veins. If you stay here, and fight, and die. You must choose to do so, it must be your decision. One of you must come with me, and leave your brother here by your own volition. This should be sufficient sacrifice.

I felt the presence of those addiction demons double over, I could almost taste meth on my tongue, an acrid, bitter, chemical taste.

"Let me do it." Said the older one. "You are young, you should carry the torch."

"No, let me, I want to taste that power, that strength, one more time, I want to die for Odin, I want to die for the world to be right again." The younger one replied, again, eager despite the suffering he was just put through.

"Hey!" The younger one moved but must have been held back by our Blonde asshole, as I heard the sound of dozens of pills being chewed.

"We must be going." The sound of sirens, lots of sirens, was drawing near. "They will be here soon, come my little soldier, your brother must sacrifice himself for you."

The brother in question was making an utterly horrible noise, a deep guttural sound, I heard a sound like rope stretching to its breaking point, and wondered what the hell was in those pills. I felt heat rolling out of the room, and I heard a roar come from the man which blended with the roar of pleasure from the demon over his shoulder.

I heard the footsteps of two running men, as the older brother started throwing things around the room, roaring and screaming, I heard the sound of shattering brick as he must have punched a hole in the wall.

He was like a man possessed, but I could hear the demon with him still crying out its rapturous desire, so the demon was clearly still outside the man.

I heard the squeaking from the distance suddenly grow louder, and as the sirens arrived, I felt the sudden and horrible sensation of thousands and thousands of giant furry bodies pour over me, biting and tearing and ripping at my coat and skin. I panicked, shoving myself deeper into the ventilation tunnels until I suddenly felt nothing beneath me, and I felt my head slam against the side of one of the vent walls.

A moment later, everything went black.