We made our way across the grass to the house. The kid looked nervous as hell, and I couldn’t blame him. “Deep breaths, kid.” I tapped his shoulder, “Deep breaths.” At the door, I dialed my density back, and slipped through the wood. The kid followed suit. We made our way through the human house. “You know the drill.”
We floated up the stairs to the bedrooms. The newborn was nursing with its mother. The daughter was asleep in her room, hugging a toy unicorn. The boy was playing video games on his tablet computer, tanks shooting at each other, totally oblivious to everything.
“Now, we find the problem.”
We found the father in the garage, loading rounds into a handgun. His eyes were dead, empty, lost. The kid froze, “My God.”
I scanned the room, searched the shadows. “There.” I fired into the shadows under the workbench. The demon beneath the table died. “You know what to do, kid.”
The kid whispered in the man’s ear, “Do not become lost. Lost to the war; lost to the peace. Listen to your heart. To the words it whispers to you.” The man dropped the gun on the workbench. He cried, then wiped his tears, left the garage, walked to the baby’s room, and sat beside his wife. We’d won that night.
We hauled the demon’s carcass to the rose bushes outside. It would decay in the light of the dawn.
“Welcome to the war, kid.”
I wrote this for Siobhan Muir‘s #ThursThreads, Week 178. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are good reading.