Hell Hath No Fury, page 3
She went to her office and grabbed her duffle bag. Then she would just go home, let her hair down, take a shower, and snuggle up on the couch with Momo until Gabby closed the shop and gave her a call. Delilah slung the strap of her duffle bag over her shoulder and smiled as she turned off the office lights. Now she just needed to figure out what to make for dinner. Something Gabby would have trouble turning down.
“Alright, lady,” she said to Gabby who was wiping down the floor mats, in preparation for the next class. “I’m headed home. You good?”
Gabby looked up, “Yeah. I think we’ll be just fine.”
“Alright then,” Delilah could feel the displeasure emanating from Gabby and it made her a kind of uncomfortable she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’ll see you later then?”
“Yep, I’ll bring the keys by after work.”
“Okay,” was all Delilah could think to say before turning her attention to Devin who sat by, silent and still, watching the entire exchange unfold. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Be safe?”
“Yup,” he replied like a sibling who didn’t want to get caught up in the other’s trouble. His eyes darted awkwardly back and forth between Delilah and Gabby.
With that, Delilah walked out the door and hopped into her Jeep. Gabby looked back up at her through the window. Delilah waved at her, but Gabby just went back to work. A small crack formed in Delilah’s’ heart as she backed out.
She knew Gabby was more than capable of handling the place on her own and wasn’t worried about it one bit. She was worried about seeing her later in the evening and only hoped what little time between now and then would do enough to smooth over the hurt that had formed between them. She took solace in the knowledge that, at least, Momo was going to be so happy to see her.
4
The Imp shivered as the portal closed behind him and the warmth of home faded into a cold, damp air that hung in his chest with each breath. The very thought of being here longer than he had to was enough to make his stomach turn. He felt disgusting but would not allow this realm to stop him.
Well, he thought as he examined the walls of the cave, it doesn’t get much worse than this, but if my master wants a cat, I’ll get him one.
The Imp pressed ahead through the cave until he could see a growing light at the end of the darkness. His mind was swept into a frenzied anxiety over what might be waiting for him outside the safety of the shadows.
The Imp had only been to the mortal realm once before, and it had been night then. Night was ideal. Night was safe. It would have been more advantageous to come then, but the Dark Lord had requested the cat now, and the Imp was compelled despite any inconvenience the time of day might bring. Inconvenient is exactly what the Imp felt this was.
At the end of the cave, the light glowed with a strength the Imp could not have anticipated. A hard shadow cast itself on the ground at the edge of the cave’s mouth, out of which he had trouble discerning any detail behind the terrible glow. He lingered there for a moment and squinted between blinks. A pressure formed behind his eyes, and the Imp winced. Slowly, the bright blur that stood before him came into focus, and he was able to summon enough courage to brave the unflinching light of the day.
First, he put a toe into the awful brightness, then a hand. It didn’t burn at all, much to the Imps surprise. Shielding his eyes, the Imp crept out from the comfort of the shadows and into the oppressive day.
It was as if, as far as the Imp was concerned, the heavens were conspiring to stop him before he could even start. As if fetching this cat for the Dark Lord would somehow lead to the destruction of the very heavens that had cast them out. The lord above - curse his name – was now, Himself, reaching out to stop the Imp from completing his quest most fowl. The Imp scurried through the light and took refuge under the shade of trees in the surrounding forest.
Once safe within the uncomfortably cool shade of the mighty tress, the Imp turned his gaze upward and, in his ancient tongue, cursed the heavens for their foolish attempt to stop him.
“Foiled by your own worthless creations,” he laughed to the sky above. “All that you have created serves only to obstruct your holy light and cast endless shadow upon this cursed rock!”
The Imp’s mind filled with images of darkness shrouding this mortal realm, and him leading the Dark Lord’s forces to conquering it. When the slaughter was finished, he’d take up the task of smothering the wretched sun himself. He smiled a sharp, rotten smile then refocused, with renewed purpose, on any signs of a cat.
“Surely, these wild lands would be filled with cats,” he muttered to himself under his breath. “Cats are wild animals, are they not?”
However, among the many wild animals that populated these vast woods, he could not seem to sense a single cat. A hint of desperation fluttered through the place where his heart should have been. Then, like the crack of a molten whip through a sin-stained soul, an idea came bursting into the Imp’s frantic mind.
People, the Imp thought, People keep the awful creatures for company.
Proud of his devious epiphany, the Imp set off through the woods, determined to fetch a cat, any cat, and return it to the Dark Lord. Once he came across some people, he would surely be able to procure a cat. Before he could set off, however, his stomach churned with a low grumble.
Perhaps I should have purchased one of those souls. I probably would have had the vendor not worked so hard to sell me on them.
He knew that his hunger would eventually hamper his ability to fight—or flee should the need arise—so the Imp set out on the hunt for any bloody flesh he might be able to sink his dirty, jagged teeth into.
Besides, he thought, I could use a little warm up.
***
The Imp sat atop a pile of corpses, still feasting on his prey—a large bear and three deer in total. He had left the bodies intact, for the most part, and was eating away at a large heart. The hearts were, by far, the Imp’s favorite part. There was a pleasant firmness to each bite that was met with a juicy squish at the very center. The Imp had always found it to be most satisfying on several levels. A soul would have been most nourishing, but the Imp was disappointed to find no souls pouring out of the dead up here in the mortal realm.
Perhaps the beasts have no souls, he mused as he turned the remaining bit of heart over in his blood-soaked hand before shoving it into his mouth and swallowing.
Once the Imp’s hunger was properly satiated, he continued his search for a cat. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, a few hours most likely, but he knew he needed to get back to work as daylight grew higher above him, and the shadows of the trees shifted on the ground.
He scurried up trees to get a better lay of the land, then jumped from branch to branch in search of any signs of human life. After only a few minutes, an impatience festered within the Imp.
I don’t understand why humans keep those dreadful things in their homes, the Imp wondered as he scoured the woods, Terrible creatures, cats. Perhaps the part of humans drawn to cats is the same part that sends so many of their souls passing through our domain. Some dormant evil within the mortals?
Continuing to leap from branch to branch, the Imp finally saw something other than trees. Through the thick of brown and green, there sat a red house, two floors high, all alone in the woods. Much to the Imp’s dismay, the house sat in a clearing and the sun bore down on it completely. He winced at the thought of having to brave the light once again, but if there was a cat inside that house, then he would do whatever needed doing.
He climbed hurriedly down the tree upon which he had been perched. Once on the ground, he hobbled as fast as he could toward the house, sniffing at the air as he went. At first, he smelled nothing but what he had already been smelling: trees, animals, and shit. Then, the smell of human flesh peppered the air, stirring the twinge of an appetite in the Imp’s full stomach. As he drew nearer to the house, the scent in the air changed and the Imp knew exactly what he would find inside that house. He growled, “CAT!”
The Imp quietly crept up to one of the windows in the rear of the house, where he stood tall and grabbed the windowsill to lift himself up and peer inside. He was immediately met with the face of a cat. The cat hissed at the Imp, and the Imp screeched at the cat before falling from the window and onto the pine and moss-covered ground.
For a moment the Imp just sat there, in the bright light of day, trying to get his bearings. Once he had collected itself, the Imp stood back up and brushed the debris from his legs and hind quarters before mumbling to no one, “I fucking hate cats.”
The Imp looked around the vacant woods and, once he was sure there were no mortals around, he began his search for another way in. Above him, the Imp spotted an open window. He scurried away from the window in which the cat sat and climbed up a nearby tree. He crawled out as far as it would hold him, then leapt toward the house. His sharp fingers dug into the windowsill, and he made quick work of pulling his body up and through the opening. The Imp could hear the cat moaning at the sound of his jagged claws scraping against the wooden panels.
Inside, the Imp rushed to close the door to the room he had found himself in. A quicky survey of the space yielded a small cage with a convenient handle. The Imp smiled. It was the perfect size for a small cat.
“At least I won’t have to carry it in my hands,” the Imp whispered assuredly. “Nasty beast is likely to tear me to shreds. I just have to figure out how to get it in there without it mauling me.”
From the upstairs landing, the Imp quietly watched, his face pressed hard between the banisters railing, as the cat found a comfortable place on the couch to sleep. The cat paced back and forth, hardly making a dent in the cushions beneath its feet, before finally finding a nice place to lay. As the cat laid there, purring its sinister purr, the Imp plotted his devious plot.
He was aware of how dangerous cats were and what skilled hunters they could be. The cage was plastic, with a plastic handle on top and a metal door.
Can something this flimsy really contain such terror?
The Imp’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard the cat below stir. The beast sat up, then it stretched out. Its butt stuck up in the air, its tail slithering back and forth, and its front legs extended. The sharp claws of the infernal beast popped out of its otherwise soft paws.
Deceptive creature, The Imp narrowed his eyes as he spied on the fuzzy beast, but you’ll not fool me.
A fly came buzzing just in front of the cat’s face. It froze, as if someone had pressed pause and watched the fly for a moment without so much as a tremble. Then—blink and you would have missed it—the cat’s paw shot out toward the fly and batted it down onto the couch with the speed of a Hell bat and the accuracy of a skeletal archer. The fly buzzed and wiggled fruitlessly beneath the beast’s clawed paw, and the cat’s butt wiggled in delight before pouncing at its captured prey, mouth first. The cat gave the fly a couple of quick chews then licked its nose and closed its eyes, its blood lust satisfied.
Stupid fly. Only an idiot would have been so daring before a cat of all things.
A hideous smile crept slowly across the Imp’s red, leathery face.
I’ll use your own bloodlust against you.
The Imp set about preparing the cage. He snuck along the upstairs landing and back into the room from which he had entered, where he searched the space with narrowed eyes for something that might lure the wicked creature into the cage with the promise of slaughtering another unsuspecting victim, as cats are oft to do. Some thread in a drawer and a small fabric ball with a feather and bell lying on the floor beside the bed was what he found and was all he needed.
So simple, yet so devious. the Imp’s mind whirled with visions of the Dark Lord celebrating his successful capture of the cat and hanging on his every word as he explained, step by step, just how he had accomplished such a hellish feat.
He shall be most pleased.
The Imp tied the ball to the thread, then ran the other end of the thread through the slits in the back of the enclosure. Then he let out enough slack and threw the ball down the stairs before turning to scamper off to the bedroom, on the far end of the landing, where he would lie in wait for the cat to take the bait.
The ball bounced and jingled its way down the steps and the cat was quick to investigate. The Imp watched and listened carefully from inside the room. His head peered ever so slightly around the frame of the open doorway. It didn’t take long for the Imp to feel a tug at the end of the line as the cat batted it around.
The Imp pulled sharply, and the ball came bouncing up the stairs with a bright jingle. He gave it a couple more sharp tugs, allowing the ball to wiggle around, until he felt the thread go taught again. Once again, he yanked the thread back. The ball flew up to the landing just at the edge of the top step. The Imp could see it now, and a shiver crawled along his skin in dreadful anticipation of the cat that would soon appear.
The Imp jumped slightly as the cat pounced into view. He pulled some more, inching the ball toward the cage. The bell jingled with each pull like a dinner bell designed to entrance the terrible creature into a state of violent, unrelenting hunger. As the cat crawled along the carpeted floor, stalking the toy as if it were planning to rip out the object’s heart, the Imp heard a sound out front, low rumble that suddenly cut off just as it reached the front of the house.
What is that? A human? No, I need to hurry!
The Imp pulled repeatedly until the ball was in the cage. A voice called from outside the door.
“Momo, Mama’s home!”
Shit. The Imp tugged frantically on the thread to hold the cat’s attention that seemed as though it wanted to wander toward the voice of its master. The cat’s focus returned to the ball. Its furry butt wiggled, then it froze, and then it pounced right into the cage. The Imp bolted out of the room and closed the door on the cage, trapping the cat inside, just as the front door opened.
The Imp grabbed the handle and froze for a moment as the human, a woman, set down her keys and phone then looked up at him. Both frozen in time as their eyes locked on each other, until human words finally poured out of the woman.
“What the fuck!?”
The Imp grabbed the cage and ran through the room and back to the window he had crawled in from. He tossed the cage out the window and it landed with a thud and a hissing meow on the rocky, fern covered ground below. The Imp jumped down after it, landing even harder beside it. The cat hissed and the Imp stumbled onto his side. Panicked, he clumsily hurried to find to his footing. Once he had, he stood up, then grabbed the plastic handle and took off into the woods.
***
Delilah heard the commotion at the back of her house and cried out, “Momo!”
She took off through the house, tossing her duffle bag to the ground near the couch, and came bursting out the back door in time to see this creature, about half her size, running off into the woods with Momo in hand, “That’s my cat you son of a bitch!”
5
She didn’t know what was stealing her cat. She didn’t care. She just broke off into a sprint after the black, creature in front of her without a moment’s hesitation.
The trees rushed by her as Delilah chased the creature through the sprawling woods behind her home. Its long legs seemed to have little trouble navigating the uneven forest floor where its long, clawed toes gripped the rocks and roots. Though its body and arms were as lanky and thin as its legs, carrying Momo in her case seemed to do little to slow the creature down. The creature’s long, pointed ears flopped along as it ran, slapping the sides of its head, then the tips of its small horns, then back again, but it didn’t seem to mind. It just kept running, only ever looking back occasionally to confirm that Delilah was still hot on its heels.
The creature was faster than most people, and even at a full sprint, Delilah struggled to keep up. She wanted badly to call out for Momo, to shout and curse down the demon, but she knew she needed to keep focused and stay calm or she would risk losing control of her breath. Worse yet, one false step, one slight stumble, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to make up the distance. Momo would be lost for good. She measured her breathing before the burning set in. She couldn’t know how long she would have to keep up such a pace. One breath with each step, four in, three out. At least for now, while her lungs were fresh.
The deeper she chased this creature, the thicker the forest became, and the more difficult it was to keep up. The burn in her lungs began to set it, a slightly painful tickle for now, and so she dropped her breaths down to three in, two out.
The otherwise calming aroma of the dirt and the trees now felt heavy as it clawed its way in and out of her heaving lungs. The towering fir and hemlock trees were packed in close enough to make running in a straight line nearly impossible, and as the alder shrub growth became more numerous, her view of the creature became increasingly obscured. Her heart sank, and a weakness started to creep through her legs. Fear of losing Momo forever mounted, and her doubts began to overtake her fury. Suddenly, like a prayer she didn’t know she was saying had been answered, the forest opened again.
The monster that had taken Momo was clear again and no more than thirty feet ahead. From the clearing, like a dense wall of rot, came a smell that made Delilah’s stomach turn. For a moment, she lost control of her breathing and could feel her steps begin to faulter.
The source of the smell came at her quickly as she ran past it and was gone just as fast. A pile of dead animals, mauled and stacked into a blood-soaked hill of rotting flesh. The sight of it, an image that would have normally caused Delilah to stop cold and survey the forest for what animal would have done such a thing, served only to re-ignite the fire inside her. She knew what had done this, and she couldn’t help but picture Momo’s lifeless body being added to the pile, a mental image that could keep her running all day. She wouldn’t stop until her body gave out or until she got her Momo back. Even now, as the terrain shifted to an incline, Delilah was more determined than ever.
