Flash Fiction #4

There’s a certain serenity to having your life go up in flames. For months now, I had been trying to hold everything together, but some pieces of my life kept slipping away the harder I grabbed on to the others. That’s why, this morning, I decided to give up. You heard me. The time came when I had to choose, so I did.

Now, as I sit here wiping demon blood off my cheek I have to wonder if I made the right decision. I mean, sure there are other people who could fight them off, but now that I know about them, isn’t it a little selfish of me not to help? Of course, my now-ex fiancé won’t see it that way, but at least I won’t be around to witness that mess.

I kick over the stool that still holds the headless of body of the demon I just killed. He was wearing the body of a salesman–go figure–but when I saw the mark in his eyes, he gave up all pretense and went all burning eyes, fangs, and claws on me. I need to get out of here. The local authorities are going to have a hell–heh–of a time with this one. Some demons revert back to their human forms when they die, others don’t. I still haven’t figured out why that is, but this one definitely didn’t transform back into a mildly greasy sales rep.

I climb out the window and run about a block to my beat up, lime-green camaro sitting peacefully in the late afternoon sunshine. Throwing my sunglasses on, I rev up the engine, enjoying her sweet purr. Through the dust I kick up in my rearview mirror, I can see the police just pulling up outside the house. I take a sharp right, hoping they didn’t spot my car; I really should have picked a less unique shade.