The Devil's Demeanor (21 page)

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Authors: Jerry Hart

BOOK: The Devil's Demeanor
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It had to end
tonight, before Don lost his sanity. Or before Ethan stepped up his game and
hurt someone else.

Don didn’t
believe for a second his brother was finished tormenting him, even if he hadn’t
attacked in a year. That was just the way Ethan worked, the calm before the
storm. Don started driving down the endless street, passing the driveway had
acted as the very first bus stop for the neighborhood back in his high-school
days. If you wanted good seats, you had to be at that stop. He wondered if that
was still the case today.

He turned left
at an intersection, and then right. This took him past Chainsaw House and the
Candy Store, two of his favorite places from childhood. He wondered if the old
Asian lady still sold candy from her front door to the kids while they waited
for the bus to pick them up. As for Chainsaw House, well, Halloween just wasn’t
the same without those crazy old people.

The street came
to a dead end, and Don was surprised nothing had been built in that patch of
forest yet. It seemed like such a waste.

Again, he
realized he was stalling and turned left, down an even longer stretch of
street. He barely even glanced at his old house on the left as he continued on
down. The neighborhood felt so empty; there wasn’t a single person outside. He
felt like he was in a ghost town, nearly every house with its lights off. All
of the streetlights were on, however, but that only added to the creepy
atmosphere.

Don slowed down
as he neared the house he’d been looking for. It was a cute one-story, painted
white with a maroon front door. The lights were off inside and there were no
cars in the driveway. As far as Don could tell, no one was home.

The house was
on his left, the same side as his old house down the street. Don parked the
truck farther up, grabbed a jacket and some black gloves from the passenger
seat, got out and crossed the street. He hopped the chain-link fence into the
backyard, praying there was no dog. There wasn’t, so he went to the back-porch
door and began to pick the lock. He had no idea what he was doing, but by some
miracle the knob turned and the door opened.

He found
himself in the dining room, the moonlight illuminating the floor. Don closed
the door behind him and walked silently into the living room. There was a couch
and TV, but not much else. He looked to his left, down a long hallway with four
doors, two on each side. All were closed. The house definitely felt empty; was
this the right place?

His question
was answered when he saw a picture on top of the TV. There was a beautiful
raven-haired woman posing with a brown-haired young man. They both looked
happy.

The man in the
picture was Ethan.

Don picked up
the picture with a gloved hand and stared, mesmerized. It was true: Ethan had a
girlfriend. How could it be? The last time Don had seen his brother was when
Ethan had tried to kill him. Ethan had looked like a monster, glossy eyes and
thin skin. And that jackal’s grin....

In the picture,
he looked pale. The grin he wore was a tad weak, but it was definitely genuine.
And his eyes were green once again. He no longer resembled the demon from a
year ago.

Don set the
picture back on the TV and sat down on the couch. All he could do was wait for
his brother to return. He had to prepare himself for what he came to do. He
suddenly started shivering, as if the house had grown colder. He knew it was
just him, though. The occasional headlight flashed through the window next to
the front door. Don jumped every time, wondering if it was Ethan. It never was.

A few times,
Don thought he heard a noise from the rear of the house, at the end of the
hall, but chose not to investigate. He knew his brother wasn’t here. Not yet,
anyway. After an hour, his mind started to wander. He began wondering how he
came to be where he was, how this curse had ruined his family.

*
 
*
 
*

He was abruptly knocked from his thoughts by
a particularly bright set of headlights that shined through the window to his
right. He looked around, having forgotten where he was. He heard an idling
engine in the driveway for a moment. Then both headlights and engine cut out at
the same time.

Don’s heart hammered as he jumped to his
feet. He suddenly remembered where he was and what he had to do. There was the
sound of a car door closing, and then...nothing. Don waited, more nervous than
he could ever remember being in his life. What he wouldn’t give to be with
Monica again right now.

But he had to do what he came here to do.

A silhouette passed by the window, startling
him. A moment later, a key was inserted into the front door. Whoever was there
seemed to be having trouble with the lock.

Finally, the door opened a crack, letting in
the streetlights. Don saw a brown-haired man walk in, oblivious to any
intruder. The man flipped a switch reflexively as he closed the door. His back
was to Don as a ceiling light flashed on, lighting the entire living room.

The man started to turn around just as Don
pulled a gun from his jacket pocket.

The man froze the moment he saw Don standing
there, just before the kitchen, gun raised. Don saw his face clearly now.

It truly was Ethan.

“Oh, my god,” he whispered just barely loud
enough for Don to hear. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Don didn’t know what to say to that.
Finally, he muttered, “You lying son of a bitch.”

“What?” Ethan was clearly confused by the
response.

“I called you a liar,” Don said, pure venom
in his voice. “You promised to torment me for the rest of my life if I survived
the mall fire. You made me think you were done when you suddenly stopped
stalking me, but I know you were just letting me feel safe before it started
all over again.”

Ethan held up his hands in a placating
gesture, a set of keys in his right. “No. I
have
stopped. I’m not like
that anymore. I’m cured.”

Don shook his head. “There is no cure,
remember? You said so yourself.”

“I was wrong. Look at me.” He patted his
chest. “Do I look like a monster? I’m okay now. Put the gun down.”

“No.”

“Please. I’m your baby brother. You can’t
kill me.”

“After all you’ve done? Yes, I can. All
those people you murdered...”

That statement seemed to affect Ethan. His
face changed ever so slightly. “I can’t change what I’ve done,” he said after a
moment. “All I can hope for is to do right by my life from now on.”

“Not good enough.”

Ethan frowned. “This isn’t about anyone
else; this is about you, and what I did to you.” He sounded so certain, so
understanding.

“This is about the evil inside of you. There
is no cure for that. If I don’t kill you now, you’ll change and kill again.”

“What about the evil inside
you
?” Ethan asked.

“I’m different,” Don said stubbornly.

“We’re both cursed, and you know it.”

“I’ve never killed anyone.”

“You’re about to kill
me
!”
Ethan shouted. “What do you think will happen to you if you shoot me?”

“Nothing will happen.” Don’s gun hand began
to shake. He wasn’t so sure about his last statement.

“Are you sure you’re here because you want
to be, or were you sent here by the demon? Please, Don. I’ve changed. I found
love and the curse left me.
Love
is the cure.”

Don looked around. “Where is she?”

“Asleep in our bedroom.”

Don now knew what the noises at the end of
the hall had been. “I can’t leave knowing you might come after me someday. I
can’t!” He was close to tears, so desperate to insure his own safety from
Ethan’s retaliation.

“I’m trying to start a new life, big
brother. No one really knows I’m back yet except my girl Ivy. I’m trying to
announce to the world the safe return of little Ethan Scott.”

“There is no cure,” Don muttered, sounding
so much like Dad in his refusal to accept the existence of the curse. “You
killed your own father.”

Something flickered in Ethan’s green eyes.
“He was
our
father, and that was an accident.”

“When he saw you, he had a heart attack. He
told me you were smiling.”

Ethan’s face changed ever so slightly. A
trace of that jackal grin appeared.

“I see some of your old self peeking
through,” Don said triumphantly, his gun hand steadying.

“Are you really going to shoot me with Dad’s
gun?” Ethan asked, his own voice deeper and resigned.

“You recognize it.” Don actually sounded
proud of his brother.

“Sentimental value?” Ethan’s voice was even
deeper. He was changing more by the minute. His eyes looked a lot brighter,
less green.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Ethan. I
don’t want to live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. I can’t.”

Silence fell on the living room as the
brothers stared at each other. And then, suddenly, Ethan’s face returned to its
original state. His eyes became green once again. He said, “Do what you have to
do, brother, to put yourself at peace.”

With that, Don pulled the trigger.

*
 
*
 
*

The gunshot had sounded explosive in the
small living room.
 
Ethan flew backward,
against the front door. His eyes and mouth were opened wide in shock. He
slumped down to the floor, leaving a bloody trail on the door as he did.

Don had shot him right in the heart. He
immediately regretted it. A wave of repulsion washed over him as he watched his
brother die. Ethan reached up and took Ethan’s hand. Blood spilled out of the dying
man’s mouth, and he looked like he was trying to say something.

Don leaned closer as tears spilled from his
eyes.

“Don’t...hurt them,” Ethan whispered. He
then added, “I forgive you,” just before he died.

Don was too stunned to think just now.
Ethan’s eyes were still open, but they no longer saw anything. Don closed them
gently. He felt nauseated and ashamed. He told himself he would rather be
stalked for the rest of his life if it meant his brother could live again. But
it was too late.

“Oh, god,” Don said breathlessly. “What have
I done?” He looked at the gun in his hand. It shook violently in his grip.
Before he knew what he was doing, the barrel was in his mouth. It was still
hot, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t live with this guilt.

He deserved to die.

Just before he could pull the trigger, he
heard a door open somewhere in the house and a female voice call, “Ethan?”

Don immediately came to his senses ran into
the dining room. As he passed the hall, he saw a shadow standing there. He
doubted she’d seen him, however. He was about to run into the backyard, but he
stopped just in front of the back-porch door and watched as a dark-haired
beauty walked into the living room. Her back was to him, and she wore a white
nightgown.

Her scream was heart-wrenching when she saw
her boyfriend dead just before her.

Don was about to leave when he noticed
something. Ivy, Ethan’s girlfriend, had knelt down to Ethan’s side, giving Don
a good view of her stomach. She was pregnant.

Don’t hurt them,
Ethan had said. He was going to be a father.

Don raised his gun and pointed it at Ivy. He
couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t let her give birth to another monster. He
just couldn’t.

Ivy suddenly raised her head and turned
around. Don was no longer there.

*
 
*
 
*

Don had almost done it. He’d almost shot a
woman and her unborn child. Ivy had to be at least five months pregnant, from
what he had seen of her bump. If she did manage to give birth, would the baby
turn out like its father? Could Don let that baby live?

Don was the last link to the curse, besides
the baby. Though the curse didn’t affect him like it had his mother and
brother, it was still there. Would it be passed on to his own children? That
was just what the demon wanted.

The demon. Don had almost forgotten his plan
to confront it. Did the creature still dwell in its cave in Destin? He had no
doubt it did. If it died, would the curse die with it? Don wanted to believe
so,
had to
believe so. He had just killed someone—if
he was wrong about his immunity, the curse would soon take over, turning him
into a mindless vessel for the creature. He had to end this now.

He was in his truck, speeding toward the
nearest exit from the neighborhood. House lights were flipping on as he drove.
Don hoped no one paid any attention to his truck as he left. He had to prepare
for his trip to Florida. If the demon could be killed, then he would be the one
to do it. If not, well.... Ethan had been delivered from its influence once and
for all.

Chapter 19

 

 

Don was extremely lonely as he drove down
the dark highway. He was reminded of all those summer road trips in Dad’s
blue-and-copper van.
Those
were good times;
this
was not. He hadn’t slept at all since leaving Texas and wasn’t quite
sure how he was still functioning now. He contemplated getting a hotel room and
resting for a few hours, but he ended up passing every exit he came across.
Pure determination fueled him.

Or, at least, he thought so until he found
himself flying into the median.

He screamed as he came to a sudden stop. His
breathing was quick and harsh as he looked around. He was surrounded by dark
woods and long stretches of road with absolutely no other passersby.

Don scrubbed his face with his hands and got
back onto the freeway, vowing to go to the first hotel he could find. He didn’t
even remember falling asleep. He was still shaken by how close he’d come to
dying.

The next exit he came across promised food
and lodging. He was hungry, so he stopped at a Taco Bell and paid with cash. He
then went to a Holiday Inn, paid with cash again, and fell asleep the moment
his head hit the pillow.

*
 
*
 
*

He had a dream he was in a boathouse, and
not just any boathouse—the one from the wallpaper in his childhood room, the
one with pattern of a sailboat in the water. The little boathouse always
frightened him because he could just see darkness in the open door and window
and imagined something lurking inside. But now
he
was
inside.
He could hear the water from the ocean just outside, and though it was night,
he could just see the sailboat from one of the windows.

There was something else, though, just
outside the door. A voice whispered, “Let me in, Donovan.”

“No!” Don yelled in response. He was a kid
again, no older than ten. “Go away!”

“I can’t do that,” the voice replied, louder
this time. “You killed your brother. You belong to me now.”

Though he was a kid, Don remembered
everything from his adult life. He remembered killing Ethan. “If I belong to
you, why don’t you just take me?”

The voice did not reply. Instead, it pounded
against the door. It kept pounding until Don finally woke up. He rolled off the
bed, ran to the bathroom and threw up. He had the presence of mind to avoid
touching the toilet seat with his hands.

After he finished, he looked out of the
window and saw the sun rising. He was in Florida now, very close to his
destination. He had a few things to buy before he confronted the demon,
however.

*
 
*
 
*

He went to different hardware stores around
Destin, hoping no one would realize the ingredients he bought could be used to
make a bomb. He’d learned enough off the Internet to construct one, but had
never practiced before. He hoped to get it right on his first try.

By the time he was done making a few pipe
bombs, the sun was setting again. Don wanted to attack during the day, but the anticipation
was killing him. And if the nightmare was any indication, the demon knew his
every move. It knew what he was planning.

Which meant he had to act fast.

He’d bought a flashlight at one of the
hardware stores, so he could possibly go once the sun went down....

It was decided. He would attack at
nightfall.

Don headed out while the sun was still up,
but just barely. He remembered from his trek last year how to get to the cave
where the beast slumbered. In the passenger seat was a backpack filled with
bombs and flashlights. There was also a gas can and a few lighters.

The evening was nice and warm, and he wished
he could have been here on a better occasion, but he vowed, if he survived, he
would live life to the fullest.

It was much darker when he found himself on
that long wooded trail to his grandparents’ house. He felt confident he would
survive the night, whether or not he succeeded in killing the demon.

Once he rounded the corner that would take
him up the hill to the house, he made a U-turn, facing the way he had just
come. He wanted to be able to leave in a hurry should the need arise.

He grabbed the pack and stepped out of the
truck. The old house with the cinder-block stairs looked so ominous in the
sunset, but he didn’t let that deter him. He walked carefully toward it, softly
humming a theme from one of his favorite action movies; that usually calmed him
down.

The front door was partially open. Don had
wanted to go straight to the cave, but something made him want to go inside the
house. Nostalgia, maybe. He pulled a flashlight from the pack and went up the
stairs.

He opened the door.

Just inside was the kitchen, the sink on the
left. He took a step forward and felt the floor give under his weight a little.
He froze in fear, and then cautiously took a few more steps toward the hallway.

Now he was standing just outside the living
room. He remembered playing finger races with his cousins in this room so long
ago. He turned and went down the hall. The first room on his right was the
bathroom where he’d heard his mother being attacked by the demon. He only
lingered there for a moment before moving on.

Directly in front of him was a bedroom. He
remembered when he and his cousins had spent the night here, before the attack.
They had pushed two beds together to make one huge bed. At least, it had been
huge back then. Now it would equate to a queen size at most. Don smiled at the
memory of them all piling onto the beds to sleep.

His smile vanished when he heard a noise to
his right—the master bedroom. It sounded like an intake of breath. Don shined
his flashlight inside but saw nothing except an empty room. The floor was
covered with brown leaves.

He backed away from the rooms and made his
way toward the kitchen once again.

He heard another breath, this one not so
subtle.

He quickened his steps.

A harsh breath.

He ran.

The moment he stepped into the kitchen, the
floor gave way under him. He fell for longer than he would have thought
possible before finally hitting the ground. He looked around but saw nothing.
He’d dropped the flashlight. He felt around but couldn’t find it.

He reached into the pack and pulled out
another flashlight.

He was under the house, that much he knew.
He looked up at the hole he’d just fallen through. He couldn’t reach to climb
out, but he wasn’t sure he would even if he could.

Something was up there.

Don could hear nails clicking on the floor.
It sounded like dog claws, but he couldn’t see anything. He turned off the
flashlight and waited. The clicking footsteps circled the hole, but Don never
saw a thing. It wasn’t that dark above, and he should have seen what was
taunting him. He waited at least five minutes after the footsteps faded away.
He wasn’t sure if the thing was gone, but he knew he was tired of waiting.

He stood up, his head five feet below the
hole. He jumped up, grabbed the edge of the hole, and began climbing out. There
was nothing in the kitchen, however. He climbed out and stood by the front
door, which was wide open. Did he leave it that way when he first came in? He couldn’t
remember. He looked outside and saw the red gas can still sitting where he’d
left it, so he went to retrieve it and looked to the only other house at the
top of this hill.

The house looked as dark and empty as it
always had, so Don ignored it and headed into the woods.

*
 
*
 
*

He started to feel nauseated the closer he
got to the demon’s home. It was the exact same feeling as last time, the
twisting of the guts. He kept going anyway; nothing would stop him now he had
come so far. He’d killed his own brother because of this monster’s curse—

Don suddenly dropped the gas can and fell to
his knees. The pain grew worse. “You fucking coward!” he screamed. “You’re
afraid of me!”

The pain vanished.

Don slowly got to his feet. He wasn’t sure
if his words had made it go away, but he was grateful. He picked up the can and
continued toward the cave. He could see it now, at the bottom of a hill. He
climbed down carefully, looking around for any rabbits. He still vividly
remembered the dream he had about the dog tearing off a rabbit’s head. The
dream made him wonder if the dog was possessed. He dreamed it had gone into the
cave and come out
changed.
Did the demon need a host? Hadn’t Ethan
said so at the mall last year?

Don planned to set it on fire, seeing as how
fire responded to people who were cursed. He just hoped he didn’t catch on fire
as well.

He stood before the dark cave mouth for a
moment, took a few deep breaths, and went inside.

*
 
*
 
*

The cave was cold and absolutely dark, even
with the flashlight’s beam. There was also a horrible, sour smell in the air
that burned his sinuses. He resorted to breathing through his mouth.

The flashlight’s dim beam showed him the
cave curved downward into nothingness. Don set the gas can down and pulled out
the gun. Bullets probably wouldn’t do much against the demon, but it would
provide some protection.

And he’d rather be with it than without.

Don then pulled out some duct tape and
attached the flashlight to the gun so he could also carry the gas can. He felt
overburdened to the point he worried he wouldn’t be quick enough when it
counted.

A sudden thunderclap scared the hell out of
him at that moment. A second later, a familiar squeal sounded from the darkness
ahead. The demon was there, and it was scared. A storm was brewing.

He took a deep, sour breath and pushed on.
As he did, he contemplated what he might see once he found the creature. He
still often had nightmares about the grotesque, batlike monster with what
looked like lips all over its body. That vision would never leave him for as
long as he lived.

It seemed the farther Don went inside the
cave, the smaller it got. He was in some kind of tunnel, and the walls were
closing in on him. He was by no means claustrophobic, but he did not like
having little space in which to move around.

The tunnel sloped ever downward, curving to
the right. The gas can in his left hand was starting to wear him out, but he
kept going. The air was growing thicker, making it harder to breathe. Don
thought of a hundred other places he’d rather be right now: in downtown Destin,
partying with his cousins; playing arcade games with Nick at the laundromat in
Augusta; at the playground in Connecticut.

Well, those were only
three
places, but he was sure he could think of ninety-seven more if he tried.

The tunnel started to open up before him.
The air got cooler but no less sour as he found himself walking into a vast
cavern filled with stalactites and stalagmites. It was much brighter here, but
he kept the flashlight on nonetheless. He would have never guessed something
this large could exist in this area.

Was this the demon’s home? If so, where was
it now? Don could hear rain start to fall above him. More thunder, as well.

A squeal of fear sounded off to his left.

He saw nothing, but that didn’t stop him
from walking toward the area where he’d heard the sound. He approached a large,
ugly pillar, certain something was hiding behind it.

Nothing was there.

He saw something, though. A large hole in
the earth. It reminded him of a mouth—the mouth of the world. A strange, windy
sound came from that opening. He felt more nauseated the closer he got to it.

When he turned around, however, he saw it.
An English bulldog sat on its haunches, staring at him. Its face was pointed
downward so its eyes gazed up. It was almost cute.

But then it grinned.

Don shivered. “You know why I’m here,” he
said, pointing the gun. He wanted to pull the trigger but couldn’t.

The dog turned its head to the side, keeping
its eyes on him. The grin remained. Don’s hand shook as he willed himself to
pull the trigger. The dog was only twenty feet away. Don could easily hit it.
Why was he so afraid?

Suddenly, he thought of his family: Mom,
Dad, and Ethan. They were all dead, because of this fucking demon. Don knew he
had to kill it before it infected another person.

The dog kept grinning.

Ethan had said he’d spent the last decade
with the demon. All of its attention had been on him. Don’s hand steadied. It
was his turn to grin.

He pulled the trigger.

The bullet struck the creature in the chest.
The dog flew backward as dark red blood shot from the wound. Don walked closer
to the creature as it lay on its side, panting. It looked up at him with
surprise in its eyes.

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