#eduardo noguerra

[that-ghosts-art]

There isn’t enough demonology gang art so I decided to try fixing that :3

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems ch.11

AO3 linky

Chapter 11 – Ducktective On The Case

“So what do we know,” Dipper said, clearing the whiteboard with a gesture. “A nineteen year old student of Oregon University and her parents, an elderly couple from the Circle, and an ageing Twin Souls fangirl. Fanwoman? That doesn’t sound right. Anyway! What do they have in common?”

He mindlessly chewed on the black marker, which immediately burst under his teeth and sprayed his face with ink. 

Lolonja helpfully brought him another napkin. He cleaned his face and threw the marker on the pile next to the whiteboard, which already consisted of several others. 

The Flock was spread around his thinking spot, keeping careful watch and dining on the grass-that-wasn’t-grass of his part of the Mindscape. 

“Baaa,” Groknar the Destroyer offered. “Baaa-aaa.”

“Well yes, they’re all somehow related to me, I got that,” Dipper said, and willed a new marker into existence. “That doesn’t explain why they all had my summoning circle, but I got none of their summons. Someone else did. How? And who?”

“Baaa-aaaa,” said Cupcake, apparently wanting to be a part of things. Since she was the only completely ordinary sheep in the Flock, she couldn’t add anything to the conversation. Dipper ignored her, thinking hard.

Stealing another demon's summons was possible, technically. It was one of the big no-no's in demon culture, though. Obeying niceties wasn't in their nature, but if the demon whose summons you just stole was coming to take their revenge, you quickly learned to be more mindful of the rules. It still happened, of course. But who would be suicidal enough to steal from him?

No, it had to be a mistake with the circles themselves, or he would at least have gotten a call. Stealing a circle was tricky, you had to be quicker than the original recipient of the summons. He should have noticed something if it had happened - and not just once, but three times!

At least three times, he glumly corrected himself. Maybe more often... He didn't know.

If he had a sample of that circle, maybe he'd know more. Maybe he could cajole someone into performing it so he could just grab whoever showed up - wait, no, that wouldn't work, they wouldn't steal his summons if they knew he was waiting. And a decent chunk of higher-level demons weren't limited to the Mindscape, they could hang around in the real world intangibly and observe. Like he used to, back in the beginning.

Damn, was the whole world set on reminding him of his early days? First that portal and Adams, then that horrible guest speaker… 

Dipper clenched his fist. The marker shattered. Ugh, again?

"I need to see those circles," he decided. He didn't have a picture of them, but he knew where to find it. And apparently he knew someone in the police department these days. "I'll be back, guys. Stay alert."

After Chavazikel's intrusion into his Mindscape he couldn't leave the Flock for long without worrying about them. Which was stupid, because they could take care of themselves, but - wait. 

Chavazikel.

Could he be responsible? Dipper hadn't tracked the other dream demon down yet, busy with too many other things. He’d thought he had plenty of time for that. Chavazikel wouldn't be stupid enough to try something again, and it was more fun to let him stew in his terror while Dipper waited for him to resurface from whatever hole he was hiding in, right?

Unless... unless he was responsible, somehow. Could a little dream demon like Chavazikel actually steal a summons from him? Dipper had nothing else to go on, though… he really needed to track him down.

Postponing that for an hour or more wouldn't make a difference at this point, would it? Nah, Chavazikel could wait a little while longer. Right now it was early evening in Oregon, and Dipper had an old classmate to visit.

Aside from his regular friends and Adams, he didn't have a lot of interactions with the rest of his fellow graduates. Carver gave him the occasional summons, Watson had called him once. Brennan never had, but he was the police department's resident demon consultant, so he would have access to all crime scene pictures.

Dipper made sure his Tyrone disguise was as human-like as ever, and tessered away.

He appeared in an alley nearby the main police office. This was the largest building, Brennan should have an office somewhere inside. Now the main question was, how difficult were they going to be if he just barged in asking to speak to their demonologist? Hm.

Another flicker of power rippled over him and he shook his shoulders loose under the sensation. Invisible and intangible he moved through the doors. 

A warding line surrounded the entrance, but hey, he was Alcor!

He investigated it for a moment. Tripping that sigil looked like it might set off an alarm... Oh, wait, was that an Eye of Truth interwoven with the edges? Ugh, those magitech cameras were going to pick him up, despite being invisible, weren’t they. Sheesh, paranoid much?

Whatever. He didn't have time to waste being careful, he was in a hurry here!

With a roll of his eyes, Dipper just pushed through the wards and into the building. An alarm started blaring immediately, but he ignored the confusion and rising fear as he moved past the cameras.

He spotted Brennan exiting an office, eyes wide and his hands already at his belt of demonology supplies. Dipper stopped him in his tracks with a bit of magic and pushed him back into the office. Had anyone seen it? Better lock the door behind him, to be sure. 

Brennan didn't look the slightest bit relieved when Dipper released the invisibility on himself and greeted him as Tyrone, Normal Human Boy.

"It's you," Brennan whispered, backing away. He tripped over his own desk chair and fell to the floor.

"Hi, sorry about the fuss," Dipper said, with a vague gesture towards the other side of the door, where the alarm overwhelmed all other noise. The ringing was annoying, so with a thought he soundproofed this room. "I don't really have time to do this the subtle way. Didn't mean to start a panic, though. I need those pictures you've got."

Brennan didn't ask which pictures he meant. He shook his head, trembling on the ground. "It doesn't matter," he said. "You can destroy them, but by now everyone knows. They've already spread around."

"What? I'm not here to - to cover my tracks, or whatever you're thinking," Dipper sputtered. "I just want to see them. Because whatever summoning circle is on them, it can't be mine."

“You can’t trick me, you can’t trick me, you can’t trick me…”

“I’m not trying to,” Dipper interrupted his mutterings. “Listen, Brennan. It’s just me, okay? We had class together? You don’t need to be scared.”

At least that snapped him out of it, even if it wasn’t quite the reaction Dipper had hoped for.

“I know it’s you!” Brennan said. “I know you are the Dreambender, and I inspected those circles myself! They’re yours! It’s your symbol in the centre!”

“Then someone stole the summons from me, but I know I didn’t do this,” Dipper bit back. Sighed, and dragged a hand through his hair. “Okay, I don’t want to yell at you. Just let me see the pictures myself, Brennan, and I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”

“Alone? That’s an obvious loophole,” Brennan spat back, apparently having found his courage after the initial shock. “You’re going to kill everyone in this building except me, that’s what you mean?”

“How about you don’t immediately think the worst of me,” Dipper said. “I know it looks bad, okay? But I’m not asking much. I just want to figure out what is happening. Someone is trying to frame me.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe you.”

“Okay, fine,” Dipper said, now definitely annoyed. “How about this deal then? You show me the pictures I want to see, and I won’t tesser you to a random city on the other side of the world.”

Brennan gaped at him. “You can’t do that!”

“I’m a demon outside of a binding circle, I do what I want. Do we have a deal or are you feeling like practising your Swedish today?”

Hesitation. Brennan slowly got up from the floor, keeping the sturdy desk between them. “You only want to see the pictures?”

Finally! “Yes.”

“Alright. Deal,” Brennan said, with a wary look. He sat down behind his desk and tapped on the computer. “But you may not like what you see.”

Dipper didn’t.

He was no stranger to carnage. The blood and gore didn’t rattle him anymore. They blotted out most of the summoning circles, especially the edges where the broken binding would have been. But the centre, where the symbol of the summoned demon should be…

It was his. The one eyed, winged star. Those circles should have called him. But they hadn’t.

Had they?

No. No, he was not going down that road. He knew what set off the rampages that everyone was so afraid of, and this time there was no reason. He still had friends here, ties to humanity. Even rattled by the portal he had to dismantle and the memories that kept intruding lately – he wasn’t losing himself. 

He was still Dipper, not just another demon.

-----

Long plane journeys still didn’t agree with her, but Elisabeth had to admit they were becoming easier. With all the excitement in the rest of her life, a few hours to relax and read were surprisingly welcome. Even the Alcor Virus had given in and promised not to bother her too much. It was still lounging on her phone screen, of course, but at least it had stopped hiding her reading app. Now she only had to get it to stop making comments about the story while she was reading it.

[The butler did it.]

Elisabeth rolled her eyes, typing her reply. [That makes no sense.]

[It’s always the butler. The one who has access to the house, and who is trusted. Do you know anything about detective stories?]

[I know there wouldn’t be much of a mystery if it was the butler each and every time] she replied.

The little chibi Alcor on her screen seemed to think it over, tapping a finger against its chin. [Maybe it was a secret evil twin then.]

[You’re being ridiculous.]

[It’s a classic story! Never seen Ducktective?]

She was so engrossed in her discussion with the Alcor Virus about which detective was best and no, a duck wasn’t even in the running, that she wasn’t paying much attention to the other passengers boarding the plane.

A burly man sat down in the seat next to her. Her nose crinkled. Hadn’t he ever heard of showers? This was going to be a long flight…

The man had a tattoo around his wrist, she noticed. One that looked vaguely familiar… oh, right, that was Freghnup’s symbol. She recognised it from the Safe Summons List. Huh, she didn’t even know little demons like them had worshippers. 

Well, there was no rule against being stupid, unfortunately.

She returned her attention to her phone screen, which the Alcor Virus was currently filling with little shorts from some ancient cartoon series. 

[I was reading, you know.]

[Yes, yes, I’ll let you get back to that, but first you’ve just got to watch the first episode!]

-----

His scent was long gone from Dipper’s part of the Mindscape. Still, he had to try.

Dipper kneeled down in the spot where Star had been attacked. He leaned towards the grass, breathing in deeply through his mouth. The grass, lush with his power. Traces of Star’s blood, her fear. The scent of the rest of the Flock, old and new.

There. That little tingle on his tongue. It didn’t taste like his own magic. 

Just a spark, a thread, a hint. But maybe it was enough.

He concentrated on it, this little drop of another demon’s essence, and reached out, sniffing for more traces. Then he set off.

In the end he didn’t even need to tap into his semi-omniscience to find Chavazikel. The trail led him through several distant corners of the Mindscape – the outer edges, in a way, if something that was infinite could have something like edges. The parts of it that the smallest demons claimed, far away from the realms of the stronger ones.

The trail led through several of these little domains. If he hadn’t been so focused on his hunt, Dipper might have wondered about that.

Borders meant nothing to him, of course. He was Alcor. He ignored the few nightmares he encountered, which was easy because they fled at his approach. Chavazikel’s own piece of the Mindscape was still the smoking ruin Dipper had left it.

Ah, there.

It was a cave, of a sort, only the walls weren’t stone but carved from Missed Opportunities. They whispered as Dipper entered the darkness inside, and curled little tendrils at him, like fingers reaching out but always just shy of touching him.

… should have listened to her….

… should have taken that job…

… should have kept the money…

… should have tried…

… should have…

With a flex of power Dipper silenced the whispers. The Mindscape could be annoying like this – concepts floating around, taking shape. There was a large bubbling tar pit full of Toxic Family Visits near the Organ Duck’s realm, and Dipper had gone ice-skating once or twice on the frozen lake of Postponed Plans.

Chavazikel was in the back of the cave, easy to spot now the whispers had ceased. The small dream demon met his eyes as he approached. 

He looked frightened, Dipper thought. Good.

But… he wasn’t trying to flee.

“We need to talk,” Dipper said, and closed off the escape route before Chavazikel could come to his senses. “You attacked my Flock. Why?”

Chavazikel took the appearance of a horse-headed figure with too many limbs, an ooze-like mane dripping around the edge of a yellow woolly hat. A furnace of black fire glowed inside his chest, visible through the many cracks in his skin. He bowed his head now, that same fire burning in his five eyes. “I don’t need to tell you anything, Dreambender.”

That was daring. That was almost as good as proof he was involved in all this recent trouble.

“Fine,” Dipper said, reaching out towards the other dream demon and sticking a hand straight in his chest. “Then I’ll just devour your soul and I’ll consider us even, shall I?”

The sticky charcoal of Chavazikel’s soul tingled between his fingers. He closed them, intent on pulling the whole thing out. 

That idiot wasn’t even trying to fight him –

Huh?

He tried to close his fingers again, but couldn’t. Something was stopping him. He yanked his hand out, but it came back empty, the other demon’s soul still visible between the new crack in his stone chest.

“You can’t,” Chavazikel gasped. Straightened his back, and laughed. “You can’t harm me! It ac̝̭͖̪t͎̪͍ua̰̖ll̟͍̜̱̙y ͎̖͔̞̲̬̘wo̠͈r̠̫͚̣̣ḵ̜͍͉̟̺͚e͙̬̗̰͇d͚!”

“What worked?” Dipper snapped. What the hell was going on here?

“The great and mighty Dreambender,” that weak, little dream demon laughed. “Look at you now. All confused. We don’t need to tell you anything! And y̬̻o̰̙̫̜̹̮u͚ ̙̟̠͙c̬̗̞an’̰͎̬̗͈̼̲ṭ̩͈̩ ̯̜͖̱m̙̪̹a̩̺̣̯͈̺̩k̜̪̝͙e͇̥͔̪̟ ̼̼̫͓͍u͍̝̲s͓̟̦!̘̫̠͙”

“You know what, I don’t like this,” Dipper said. He reached out with his power, shaping the cave into a prison. “I think I’ll just put you in time-out for now.”

Chavazikel was still laughing when Dipper left.

… should have killed him… the walls whispered in his passing. 

Dipper growled. “I know!”

-----

The pub was a long, narrow building wedged between a store selling suspiciously vague ‘herbal supplies’ and a hotel that had all its windows boarded up. A group of leprechauns in long leather coats were idling next to their parked motorbikes. They turned to give dark looks towards Brad as he passed their street corner.

“Hiya guys!” Maria greeted them, and one of them nodded back at her while the other two kept their glares aimed at Brad. “Come on, what are you waiting for? Don’t mind the O’Shiver boys. Come on, go inside.”

“I’d rather be murdered in a classier place,” Brad said, but against his better judgement he let Maria herd him and Eddy through the door of the pub.

The inside was slightly better than the outside. A narrow room, made cloudy by the sputtering fog machine near the ‘dance floor’ and the greasy smoke coming from the direction of the kitchen. The tables were sticky and when he sat down, he discovered the chair was as well.

There were only a few other patrons, a bunch of sallow-looking people hanging around the counter, who were quietly conversing with the bartender.

“Wow, it is dead in here,” Eddy said.

Maria shrugged. “It’s a weekday, what do you expect?”

“Isn’t this a preter bar?”

“Preternaturals have day jobs too, you know.”

“Don’t see many here,” Brad said, with a wary look around. The bartender gave him a hard stare. Brad quickly avoided his eyes again. He probably shouldn’t have worn his nice jacket to come here. The universe clearly didn’t like him to dress up and was giving hints. “So this is your new job, huh? This, uh, very cheery place.”

“Yep! I start tomorrow. But the boss invited me to have a drink here, tonight, for free. Get to know the place informally, and all that. Said I should bring my friends, so I guess that’s you two jokers.”

“It was very nice of you to invite us,” Brad said, trying to unstick his leg from where it seemed to have fused to the chair. “Too nice. Really. Next time, feel free to ask Thomas and Tyrone.”

“Thomas would rather mope around his apartment,” Maria said, with a roll of her eyes. “And with everything that’s happened I think Tyrone has other things on his plate right now. Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Brad said. Sheesh, was he going to have to rip his pants if he wanted to get up? What exactly had spilled here? 

“Bad things, dude,” Eddy said, subdued. “There’s been some grisly demon murders, and people are blaming Alcor.”

“Seriously?” He was a terrifyingly powerful demon, of course. But he was also Tyrone, who cried at old movies and cuddled whatever wasn’t fast enough to move away when he got into the Yggdrasil. “More cult activity?”

“No,” Eddy said. “That’s the problem. According to the investigations, these people were mostly, well... Kinda innocent.”

“It was on the afternoon news,” Maria added.

He did not like that sinking feeling in his stomach he suddenly got. “I had a meeting, didn’t watch the news. But it sounds… I don’t know. Do you think he’s going bad again?”

Maria punched his shoulder. “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not joking. And ouch.” At least that explained one thing. “Thomas must be really torn right now. I guess that’s why he is moping?”

“No, he sounded pretty convinced that Tyrone is being framed somehow. It’s being suspended that bothers him, obviously.”

Suspended! Brad frowned. “How come I’m always the last one to hear anything?���

“Well, I live in the building across from Thomas,” Eddy shrugged.

“And I’m naturally nosy,” Maria said. “You want to stay in the loop, make some effort to do so, dude.”

“If Alcor’s going bad, I want to stay far away from that loop,” Brad said. Had Tyrone been different lately? More distant, perhaps. But Brad had blown him off a lot too, so he couldn’t really blame his demon buddy. “Are we sure the people he murdered weren’t harbouring deep dark secrets, or something?”

“A student and her parents, an elderly couple of Alcor cultists, and a writer,” Maria said, with a raised brow. “Clearly they were all horrible people who kept children in their basements and kicked puppies.”

“Well, do you know why he would do it then?” Brad argued. “I mean, his own cultists. Makes no sense.”

“Lots of demons kill their own cultists first,” Eddy said. “Easiest prey, right? Er. Not that I think Tyrone did it. Just saying.”

“At least the writer makes sense,” Maria said, and added to Brad: “She wrote books about Alcorian myth in pop culture. Was a huge Twinner in her younger days.”

Eep. “That’s no reason to kill her!”

“Better watch your step, dude. Brad? Stars, Brad, that was a joke,” Maria sighed. “This is Tyrone we’re talking about. He gave you that magical protection thingy on your forehead and everything, he’s not going to kill you.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do know that, because he’s our friend. We know him. Thomas thinks he’s being framed and I bet that’s exactly what’s happening here.” She made a vague gesture around them. “If he was going bad, it wouldn’t happen like this, right? He’s too clever to get caught so easily.”

“That’s a really weak argument,” Brad said. He looked at Eddy, who seemed conflicted. “What do you think?”

Eddy shook his head. “I don’t know. I trust Tyrone. But, dude… maybe this is how it happens. Maybe that’s why they say he has two faces. He might not even know he’s doing it.”

“Like a literal split personality thing?” Maria frowned. “Come on, you don’t believe that.”

“I don’t know.” Brad said. “Eddy could be on to something there.”

“Ugh, I need a drink,” Maria muttered. Twitched. “Guys? I’m stuck to my seat. I can’t get up.”

“Oh, I thought it was just me,” Brad said. “These chairs need cleaning –“

“No, doofus, I’m literally stuck!”

“Same,” Eddy said. “Hey, uh, dudes? This may not be the right moment to mention it, but, er… why are all those people wearing robes suddenly?”

They looked at the group by the bar counter. 

One of those robed people moved towards the door and locked it, flipping the sign to ‘closed’ in a slow, deliberate movement. The bartender reached underneath the bar and took a long green hood, which he donned.

“Hey, Maria?”

“What is it, Brad?”

“Congratulations on your new job.”

“Ugh.”

-----

‘We,’ Chavazikel had said. ‘Us.’

He wasn’t working alone. But how was Dipper supposed to figure out who he was working with? And what the hell was going on? 

He needed to talk to other demons. Well, fine. He knew a place.

Dipper wasn’t a regular patron of the Midway Bar. Some members of the Flock liked to go there, but he’d never really seen the appeal. Other demons were annoying, fearful little things. Hanging around in the real world was much better than this fake version of it.

He’d visited once or twice, though, mostly to make a point. Today his point would be bigger and sharper. 

He threw open the door and stepped inside. The bar was nearly empty. Some assorted nightmares glanced up at his entrance and huddled over their drinks when they spotted the expression on his face. A few actual demons were present, of different ranks. A couple of them were playing a dice game of some sort. 

“Right, listen up!” Dipper drew their attention. “I want to know who is working with Chavazikel!”

“And I want to have my Bloody Mary in peace,” the jackal-like demon sitting next to the door muttered. “You’re letting a draft in.”

Dipper planted both his hands on that demon’s table. “I ̘̩͎h̼̠̘e̘̭̱a͔̙̩̘̼͉̯r̤̙d͙̮͍̭̗͓͍ ̖͉̖̹̬̱t͍̭͕̜̱h͉a̼̗̻̜̰ͅt̹.”

The jackal demon slid his chair backwards, away from him. “Wait, wait, you’re not supposed to fight here!”

“I’m not looking for a fight, I’m looking for answers,” Dipper said. “But if I don’t get the latter I might just settle for the former.”

The Bartender cleared their throat. Met Dipper’s eyes, and meaningfully tapped the little metal plate on the wall next to the counter. The Rules.

Dipper strode up to him. Little was known about the Bartender and exactly what kind of demon they were, but they had managed to enforce the Rules for millennia. They had to be pretty high level.

Dipper could take them, though. He was sure of it.

“What can I get you, Dreambender?” the Bartender asked, idly polishing a glass. Like nothing was wrong. Like there weren’t demons stealing summons from Alcor and magically immune to his revenge and ruining his reputation in the real world –

“Information,” Dipper said. “About –“

The Bartender held up their hand, motioning him to quiet. “What will you pay for it?”

Dipper was not in the mood to haggle. “What’s it worth?”

“To you?” The Bartender held their head angled, as if they were thinking about it. “How about one favour, to be cashed in at a moment of my choosing.”

“Forget it,” Dipper said. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Suit yourself,” the Bartender said. “Anything else?”

Something gurgled next to Dipper’s elbow. He looked aside, to where the Organ Duck was oozing. “What is it, am I standing in your way?”

Brian didn’t reply to that provocation. It just oozed meaningfully and pointed one bloody limb in the direction of an empty table in the far back.

Dipper was ready to ignore that… until he realised that the table wasn’t empty. Someone was hiding underneath.

He nodded his thanks to the Organ Duck – Brian wasn’t so bad, for a demon – and approached the table. It was a sad attempt at hiding, really.

Dipper grabbed the cluster of bloody metal scissors that peaked out underneath the edge and dragged the rest of the demon from under the table. “Hello there, Itpolec. Long time no see. I was sure someone had eaten you by now.”

“I had nothing to do with it!” Itpolec gibbered, its wooden teeth clattering against each other as it trembled. “You gotta believe me, Normal Human Tyrone!”

“Yeah, not͝ ͜t́ód̕aỳ,” Dipper said, and deposited the other demon into a chair. “You know something. T́a͚͚l͏̞͎̜̦k̫̫̪.”

“I’m not involved! I told them, I told them we couldn’t!”

“Itpolec, buddy. Look where we are.” Dipper gestured to the rest of the bar, who were obviously eavesdropping with interest. “This is the Midway Bar. No fighting here, right? Gotta obey the rules. So you and I are just going to have a little talk, all friendly-like. Does that sound good to you?”

The lime green protrusions on Itpolec’s body curled, like wilting grass. It licked its lips. “Friendly?”

“Oh yeah, sure!” Dipper said. He threw an arm around Itpolec’s shoulders. “And buddy, if I think you’re lying or leaving something out? Well, I wouldn’t want old Bartender to give me a disapproving look, of course. So then we’ll take this outside, like gentlemen.”

Itpolec quivered.

It started talking.

----

Closing up duty took longer than usual today. Elisha sighed as the last of the clients finally left. Mrs Patrick’s colouring job had been such a mess, it had been tricky to solve. Elisha had politely reminded her that those drugstore bleach kits were perhaps not such a good idea, and she should leave the hair dyeing to the professionals if she wanted a professional result. Not with those words, of course. Mrs Patrick was difficult enough to work with on the best of days, and today she had been fuming.

The unexpected dye job had meant working overtime, but they could use the money, if Thomas’s suspension turned into a dismissal.

She had already cleaned up the chemicals while Mrs Patrick was sitting under the drying hood. Now she only had to close up the till, make sure her workspace was tidy. Her colleagues had left an hour ago and it was already dark out.

Sylvi had been avoiding her today. Normally that would suit Elisha just fine, but when the noon news burst came on and the radio host talked about what they now called the Alcor Murders… Sylvi had looked at her, and she had looked back, and she had felt awful, even if nothing about this was her fault.

Neither of them had said anything.

Elisha made quick work of her remaining tasks and closed up. The Car was parked in the back, out of view from the street after a few too many complaints about how a wreck didn’t fit in the street image. Even after it got a fresh coat of paint, honestly. People were so quick to judge a book by its cover! 

She turned the corner of the building, towards the badly illuminated parking lot. A tingle ran over her back.

Was she being watched?

She subtly slid one hand inside her purse and found the mace hidden there. Sanctified mace, but it would still work just fine on ordinary human assailants.

The parking lot was so close now. She would be at The Car soon, and then –

Footsteps, right behind her. She turned around, in time to see the three robed figures grabbing for her. The closest one got an eyeful of mace before she turned back and started running.

Heels! She loved her heels, and she could walk all day on them without any issue, but running for her life was not the same!

The remaining two creeps were gaining on her. One did a little sprint and grabbed her arm, twisting her around –

An engine roared. The robed man let her go, because he and his friend were suddenly preoccupied by trying to outrun a raging vehicle. The Car chased them around the parking lot before stopping in front of Elisha, throwing open its doors and letting her crawl inside.

She pressed her back against the seat. Her arm was going to bruise, she knew. 

Deep breaths now.

In the glow of the headlights, the robes of her assailants were chartreuse yellow and turning blotchy red from their injuries as they were hanging by their arms from the fire escape, screaming whenever the Car put its front wheels on the wall and tried to edge closer.

Her hands were shaking. She took her phone and dialled the emergency line. 

With her other hand she patted the dashboard.

“Good Car.”

-----

Above, the sunset painted the world red.

“It’s time for the main event,” he said, and the fire behind him flared. “Timing will be essential. Achieve this, and you will all be rewarded.”

His worshippers were a sea of kneeling bodies in front of him. There had been mutterings about having to cooperate with lesser cults, but he’d put an end to that. Making an example of them had been amusing, but tonight? 

Tonight was going to be the cherry on top.

“Yes, my Liege,” his high priest said, bowing to him. “We are at your service.”

“You are,” he agreed, and looked at the room full of bowed heads. He tapped a finger against his chin, musing about his next step. “Now, who shall I wear for this occasion?”

----

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems Ch.4

Read on AO3

-----------

Chapter 4 – Another Day in the Life of Tyrone Evergreen

7:30 am

Dipper popped into the kitchen. “Good morning, Thomas and Elisha!”

“Thomas isn’t home,” Elisha said, stirring her coffee. “There was an emergency summoning around three a.m.”

An emergency summoning, and he hadn’t called for Dipper? “Is it still ongoing?”

“No, he sent this message.” Elisha showed him her phone screen. Looks like Thomas had decided to catch up on a little sleep in the lab. “He has a meeting with Hicks first thing in the morning, it made more sense for him to stay.”

Feeling a bit put out, Dipper slid into the empty chair across from Elisha and started making a sandwich. “Congrats on the engagement, by the way.”

“Thank you. You seem to be feeling better than yesterday.”

“I’m feeling great,” he said, and quickly changed the subject. “How’s the Car? Still jealous?”

At that moment he’d only felt that annoying itch to cause chaos, relieve boredom, do something. In hindsight the whole mall incident was kind of embarrassing. He’d been feeling out of sorts for a few days, actually.

(It felt like the tingle in the air before a storm. Something looming in the near future, big enough to echo backwards in time. You’d think his prescience would pick up on something like that, but whenever he turned it on it only gave him unconnected flashes.)

(Complicated machinery, a baby’s red pacifier, a gnome in pre-Transcendence clothing. All nonsense and not worth the headache that came with his prescience.) 

(He could turn it up even more, of course, but then he’d be feeling off for weeks. All the knowledge of the universe was a lot to sift through. Really not worth it. Whatever fate threw at him, he could handle it, for sure.)

Elisha gave him a Look. Oh right, he’d asked something, didn’t he. “It’s moody, but improving. Thomas’ attempts at bribing it are starting to work.”

“Really?”

“It responds well to kindness.”

“Its original owners would disagree,” Dipper said, with a nostalgic pang in his chest. 

Elisha’s expression made it clear what she thought about the Car’s ‘original owners’ and how they had treated it. “In either case, I’m glad you’re feeling more like yourself today. Try not to create any more living garments, please.”

“Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

Elisha rolled her eyes at him and finished her coffee. 

She didn’t have time to chit-chat, needing to get ready for work. Soon Dipper was left alone in the empty kitchen. 

He eyed the stash of potato chips hidden behind the vegetable preserves. The stash Thomas thought he didn’t know about.

Welp. There was no one to stop him.

--

9:36 am

“I just… need time, I guess.” Mizar didn’t look him in the eyes. She tapped her fingers on the table, caught herself doing that, and curled her hands together with an awkward glance.

“I understand,” Dipper said, just as softly. The table between them might as well have been a wall. Mizar’s hot chocolate stood untouched, the cup probably already cold.

What more could be said? Dipper had gone through this a hundred times, with a hundred different Mizars. Some of them were quick to accept the whole truth, others… weren’t.

(None of them were Mabel. Not really.)

(But that was an ugly thought, one he forced down, down and away.)

(It wasn’t true anyway.)

--

10:12 am

The morning coffee with Mizar had been depressing. Good thing she wasn’t the only reincarnation running around currently, and this particular one was always good at cheering him up.

“Heya Eddy!”

Eduardo looked up from his computer with a wide smile. Good old Soos. “Hi dude! What’s up?”

“Nothing much.”

Eduardo’s office was tiny, and what little of the walls could be seen through the large posters advertising Stormward Games was a murky beige colour. The computer with its many screens took up most of the desk, of course. What was left of the surface area was covered in papers, most of them coming from an overflowing handmade contraption that for some reason incorporated a rubber ducky and a vivid lime vintage cuckoo clock.

“Yeah, I made that myself,” Eduardo said, at Dipper’s puzzled stare. “I’m still working on an out tray. I’m thinking purple.”

“Right,” Dipper said. “So how’s the game going? You know I’m always up for some beta-testing, right?”

“It’s going pretty good, dude! We’ve got most of the way to Dread Fortress finished up. It’s just the boss battle chanting that still needs tweaking, for some reason we keep getting an odd error whenever the file plays. Here, look.”

He tapped at his keyboard. Some nonsense chanting blared from the soundsystem. As the voices started to repeat, the screen with the eldritch dungeon glitched out, suddenly displaying +++OUT OF CHEESE ERROR+++ in thick black lettering on a glaring yellow background.

“Do you want me to take a look?” Dipper offered. “I’m pretty good with computers. Despite what Thomas thinks.”

“I know, I met your little buddy,” Eduardo said. The music stopped, and a digital Alcor figure showed up on one of the other screens, giving Dipper a cheery wave.

[Don’t worry,] Alvie said. [I’ve got it covered. Just some interuniversal drift in the lyrics, we’ll figure it out in no time.]

“He’s been a big help,” Eduardo said, with a fond grin at the Alcor Virus.

[Yep. Much more and I’ll have to add myself to the payroll.] The chibi Alcor looked smug. [Make up a fancy job title to go with it. Do you think they would even notice?]

“Gotta hope not, little dude, because I’m sure everyone will freak out if they realise you’re bunking in our servers.” Eduardo turned back to Dipper, a bit apologetic now. “Speaking of… I kinda need to get back to work before anyone comes in. You know how it is.”

“Right,” Dipper said, already hearing footsteps approaching. “I understand. We’ll catch up later, right?”

“Definitely. I might take you up on that beta-testing.”

“Tonight? I’ve got this thing with Brad but after nine I should be free.”

“Oof, sorry dude, I have to –“

“It’s okay, no need to explain,” Dipper interrupted, as the footsteps paused in front of the door. He gave Eduardo a smile and a nod. “See you later, Eddy. Bye, kid.”

He was gone before the door moved.

--

11:33 am

Standing in the aisle, Dipper was frowning at the different kinds of potato chips. He needed to replace the ones he ate this morning, or Thomas would give him that disappointed look again. Or worse, complain and argue about how Dipper wasn’t being a good roommate. They’d had that argument before, and Dipper would prefer to avoid a repeat if possible, thanks.

He was debating whether it was worth turning up his so-called ‘omniscience’ to remember which brand to buy – it was such a headache, literally, and demons weren’t even supposed to get headaches – when he got the faint feeling he was being watched.

He released a breath he didn’t need and, without turning around, reached out with his senses.

There.

Small and annoyingly vague, as if he was trying to catch fog. Hard to pin down. But clearly demonic in origin.

He turned around to stare hard at the source, which turned out to be a display of potted herbs where one of the mint plants wasn’t quite like the others.

A leaf twitched. The stem shivered.

Dipper frowned harder.

With a little ‘eep!’ the suspicious plant puffed away in a little cloud of green smoke.

Weird.

Shrugging off the odd encounter, Dipper turned back to the snack aisle. Whatever, he’d just take one of each. Thomas couldn’t complain about that, right?

--

12:05 pm midnight

The summoning dragged him to the other side of the world, in an open clearing under a full and glowing moon.

The grass under his symbol was dripping red.

When would they learn? Dipper wondered. Of all demons, Alcor was known to abhor innocent human sacrifice. Wasn’t he?

(Wasn’t he? Now, at least. When he was himself, and not lost inside his own mind. He didn’t like to think about the bad times.)

And no binding circle could hold him. No matter how much blood they poured into it. Yet someone always kept trying.

His summoner’s words droned around him. Dipper didn’t care, floating cross legged in the centre of this massacre. The smell was overwhelming, and made the demonic part of him salivate. The rest of him only felt a deep weariness at such a waste of life.

He was so tired of this.

Any other day he might have toyed with his summoner, played a game of twisting words and subverted deals. Or maybe he would have hunted them, made them suffer like they’d clearly made those poor broken sacrifices suffer, and let himself get lost in the thrill of the bloodlust, just for a moment.

Today he just waited until the hooded figure stopped talking. Then he broke the binding circle with a flick of his wrist.

He waited a second to see the fear and alarm bloom in their eyes, and struck.

--

13:51 pm

“It opened up again,” Lolonja said, nuzzling softly at the gash running through the dream’s side.

Star blinked at Dipper when he kneeled next to her in the soft grass of his Mindscape. “Let me see.”

The Flock was good at protecting the fragile dreams in their midst. Good, but not infallible. Dipper still wasn’t sure how exactly that damn Chavazikel had gotten through all their protections, but he was sure that the other demon was going to r̵ȩg͢ręt͘ this.

Star lacked the weapons and defences of the nightmares, but that didn’t stop her from taking risks. When she’d noticed the unfamiliar dream demon sneaking through Dipper’s Mindscape she’d called out, drawing attention to him – but also to herself. Sauron had been guarding her, but one lone nightmare was no match for an actual demon, even a low-level one.

The rest of the Flock had chased him away with strength in numbers, and they’d called for Dipper, who’d wanted nothing more than to hunt down Chavazikel and make him pay. But the Flock’s injuries had been more important.

It was still on his to-do list, though. He’d already made a visit to Chavazikel’s part of the Mindscape, and made his anger very clear. The coward was hiding somewhere, but Dipper would find him eventually.

Most of the Flock had healed nicely, drawing on Dipper’s power, but Star was having trouble. She’d been the worst off, and dreams were fragile creatures.

Dipper curled his fingers through the soft white wool and willed the injury to heal, again.

--

16:33 pm

“In conclusion, this quarter’s numbers suggest –“

Dipper waited. The room on the other side of the glass door was still full of people sitting around a long table. The table had a modern and rather impractical design, which probably meant it was expensive.

Had he gotten the hour wrong? It was easy to lose track of time when he was with the Flock.

Brad’s voice trailed off as he spotted Dipper. He was dressed up, like everyone in that room, and the smile on his face was professional and didn’t reach his eyes. “Excuse me for a moment.”

The bland smile slipped away as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He gestured Dipper to move away from the glass and frowned. “Is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah?” Dipper said. He revealed the colourful tickets and waved them in front of Brad. “The Metalbuster live show, does that ring a bell? It starts at five.”

“Oh no, that was today?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot!”

Brad made a face. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You’re still coming, right? I can tesser us there in a snap.”

The conflicted look on his friend’s face didn’t bode well. Brad glanced at the room and its waiting occupants, and back at Dipper. “I really can’t miss this meeting. I honestly thought Metalbusters was next Friday. I’ll have to take a raincheck on this.”

“Come on,” Dipper tried. “Watching Jimmy Worker and Adao Sabeji explode things, you love that! It’s much more interesting than whatever boring thing this meeting is about.”

“I know, it is,” Brad sighed. “But I really can’t. Next time, promise! Now I really need to get back in there, can’t let those guys wait.”

He hurried back. Dipper frowned at the empty space where Brad should have been.

“Sure,” he said. “Just blow me off. It’s not like I am an important and powerful demon or anything.”

Aaaaand now he was muttering to himself.

He glared at the passing intern who was staring at him open-mouthed, and stomped away until he found a quiet corner where he could tesser without being seen.

--

16:49 pm

“Not now, Tyrone!”

“Wow,” Dipper said, still standing where he had appeared, tickets in his hand. “I feel so welcome.”

Maria shot him a look, huddled behind the crates in the alley, before reaching out to drag him behind the crates as well.

This was weird, even for Maria. “What are you doing?”

“Job interview.”

“Here in a dusty alley? For what job?”

“Bartender in a preter bar.” She grinned. “And it’s not exactly a job interview, more… eliminating the competition. Hush now, it’s showtime.”

A gnome entered the alley, wearing sunglasses and a trenchcoat. He looked around furtively, his expression brightening when Maria stepped away from the crates and approached him.

“You got the stuff?”

“Maybe,” Maria said. “What’s it to you?”

“We agreed on a price.”

“We did. You got the money with you?”

Dipper watched in befuddlement as Maria seemed to conduct a very stilted drug deal. When the sirens started blaring and Maria grinned, uniformed gnomes popping up from everywhere in the alleyway and arresting the trenchcoat wearing gnome, he decided he’d seen enough.

Clearly Maria was too busy as well.

--

19:12 pm

Dipper felt the summons tug at him. It felt familiar – oh, this was a good one!

He made an effort to appear cheerful, rubbing his hands in anticipation as he appeared in Adams’s apartment.

"Hey Adams! What are we hunting today?” Their previous adventures were always entertaining. He could use some fun right about now! “Some more plague sprites? Maybe a school of Kappas or something?"

He should have known better. Had he been jinxed or something? Of course today Adams was even more difficult than usual, growing more suspicious by the second, no matter how friendly he was being.

She asked him for information about some demon he’d never heard of and seemed almost alarmed by his offer to spare her a long plane flight. That’s not something he’d do for just anyone, especially not for free!

Adams almost sent him away without a deal, which was bad summoning etiquette. She had called him, not the other way around.

Not that the deal she eventually did offer was any better.

"I'll give you one pint of ice cream from my demon freezer, if you'll just leave me right now and don't come back until I explicitly summon you."

She seemed so tense he really couldn’t do anything but accept, even though, ouch. No one wanted him around today, apparently.

Well, let no one tell him he couldn’t take a hint.

He should probably ask Alvie to keep an eye on Adams, though. Just to be safe. That Xuerus demon was a complete unknown after all.

--

21:58 pm

“Pasta is in the fridge,” Elisha called from the living room, where she was watching some boring romantic movie.

“Thanks,” Dipper said, moodily pulling open his fridge. “Thomas not home yet?”

“He came for dinner, but had to go back. Something that couldn’t wait, he said.”

“Of course he did,” Dipper muttered. The pasta looked unappealing. He slapped it on a plate and fished in Elisha’s fridge for the bottle of chocolate syrup.

He took his dinner to the living room, so he’d at least have some company, but Elisha’s taste in movies was. the. worst.

He was debating if he’d rather gouge out his eyes or keep watching, when the shiver of a summoning ran through him.

Huh. That felt like Thomas. Was he in trouble? But… it somehow didn’t feel hurried, like it would if he was being threatened by a murderous demon or something.

Dipper left his plate behind and followed the pull, all the way to the university’s demonology lab.

The first thing he noticed were the candles, and the stark, precise lines of the summoning circle. Then he saw the solemn, almost nervous expression on Thomas' face, and he knew this day, against all odds, still could get worse.

--

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems Ch.6

Read on AO3

Chapter 6 – The Planning Stage

“Have any of you seen Tyrone lately?” Thomas asked, as casual as he could manage, while Eduardo perused the menu and Brad beckoned to the waiter.

The brasserie was pleasantly busy for this time of the day. Every table was occupied, and each time the door to the kitchen opened up the smell of fried food drifted out. On the other side of the room someone was celebrating a birthday party, judging by the amount of wrapped presents gathered around one of the women.

He did a quick scroll through his phone, checking for messages. Nothing from Tyrone, like there hadn’t been for way too long. 

An ad popped up, he swiped it away. It was for that one online game that was so popular lately. He got way too many adverts for that one, probably because it was about demons. Could be fun to play with the group, if he got everyone on board for it. If Tyrone ever showed up again.

“No, he didn’t even come to our Amazing Luigi Bros night,” Eduardo said. “Kinda rude, but he gets busy, I get it. Hey, was that an ad for Within You?”

“Looks like,” Thomas said, distracted. 

Brad pulled a face. “Do you guys get those constant pop-up ads too?”

“Not anymore… because I gave in and installed it,” Eduardo admitted. “It’s pretty fun, dude. You play as a group of survivors on a deserted island and everyone’s got to do these easy little tasks, right? But one of the group gets possessed by a demon and goes on a killing spree, and the game is actually about trying to figure out who's possessed before everyone is dead. It’s fun!”

“Er. Right,” Thomas said. Who would think to design a game around something so dangerous as possession? “It’s not like Tyrone to skip a gaming night, right? Not without letting you know. And you, Brad? Did you see him?”

“Nope, not for a few weeks actually,” Brad said. “I’m sure he’s fine, he’s immortal. Ah yes, can we order please?”

Thomas tapped his fingers on the table while the waiter took their drink orders. He only just barely waited until the guy was out of hearing range before he admitted, “I haven’t seen him either. It’s been eighteen days.”

“Maybe he lost track of time,” Eduardo offered, with a small frown. “That Mindscape place is weird, right?”

“He never stays away this long.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll show up eventually,” Brad said, with a dismissive wave. “Probably tonight, since I specifically sent him an invitation.”

“Maybe. Maria couldn’t make it tonight?”

“I didn’t invite her.” 

Wait, what?

Brad went on before Thomas could ask why. “But anyway, let’s get started.”

“Started?” Thomas said, confused. Oh no. Eduardo and Brad were both looking suspiciously gleeful. “I thought this was just a random evening out?”

“Not exactly. We need to start planning your stag night, dude.”

Oh no.

“Oh no,” Thomas hurried to say. “I hardly think that’s necessary –“

“Of course it is! Now don’t worry, Eddy and I will arrange the whole thing, tonight is just to bounce off some ideas, so we know who you want invited and what we should avoid.”

Thomas looked at Eduardo in despair. “Eddy, please, let’s not do this.”

“Don’t worry, dude,” Eduardo grinned, no help at all. “It’s going to be amazeballs.”

“Besides, you’ve got to have a stag night,” Brad said. “Elisha is having one. A hen night, I mean. You don’t want to know what Maria has planned –“

“Stars, Maria is planning a hen night for Elisha?” Thomas stared at nothing as he flashbacked to the graduation ceremony ‘surprise’ Maria had been planning with Tyrone, most ideas of which she hadn’t been able to implement at the time. “Does Elisha know?”

“Of course she does – no reason to look so worried, dude, really. It’s going to be fun!”

There was a lull in the conversation as a waiter brought their drinks. This was a different one, with mossy green hair in an odd bowl cut.

“So, aside from us and Tyrone, who do you want to have invited? Your dad and uncle?” 

“That completely depends on what you have planned. If it’s going to be a relaxing dinner, sure. But I don’t see any of them playing laser tag or something like that.”

“Yeah, I figured. But that’s for us to arrange, not for you. Maybe – excuse us, we’re good here, thanks.” That last bit was aimed at the waiter, who was still looming next to Thomas’ chair with a blank expression. This close, Thomas noticed a vague, rather musty smell emanating from him, a bit like damp mushrooms.

Brad’s words seemed to hit, because the waiter blinked and scurried away without a sound. 

“… right,” Brad said. “I’m all for preter-inclusiveness and affirmative hiring practises and stuff, but that was weird, right? You all agree that was weird?”

“Tyrone!”

Thomas jumped up from his chair at the sight of Tyrone, who threw his coat over the back of a chair and fell in the seat across from him. His hair was messy – as usual – and he looked tired.

“Glad you could make it, dude,” Eduardo greeted him with a fistbump. 

“Wouldn’t want to miss this.”

“Are you okay?” Thomas blurted out. He strangled his napkin, guilt thick in his throat. “You haven’t been around much lately.”

“You’re not the only one with a busy life,” Tyrone said, and waved over a waiter – the same one which had taken their drink orders. The one with the green hair was nowhere to be seen. “I had to dismantle a transdimensional portal. Long story. Maybe you’ll see some of it on tv.”

“Uh, what?”

“A transdimensional portal?” Eduardo said. “Wow dude. What is that even?”

“A lot of trouble, that’s what it is. If you do it wrong, you get this imbalance, right? Different dimensions rubbing together, it creates this, ya know, thing. Like a grit of sand makes a pearl. Which I had to pop, before it made trouble, so I guess it was more like a zit? Check out next season of Extreme Exorcists, it’s going to be a blast. I almost died. Anyway, we’re here about Thomas. Got some planning to do!”

“You almost died?”

“You?” Brad repeated, dumbfounded. “I thought you were basically invulnerable.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Tyrone’s expression could freeze the lemonade the waiter just brought him. His eyes were a flat brown, but flecks of gold and other colours swirled through them, hypnotising.

For a moment their table was quiet. Thomas could only look at his demon friend in worry, and after a moment of deliberation he gave in to the impulse to reach out and touch Tyrone’s arm. “Hey. Whatever happened, you’re here now.”

Tyrone blinked. The disquieting colours faded from his eyes. “Yeah. I am. Sorry, I’m just… feeling unsettled. Stopping a second Transcendence will do that, I guess. Hah. Seems like it’s catching up to me.”

“Okay dude, I have like, a thousand questions about that,” Eduardo said. “If you want to give us the whole story we’ll listen.”

Tyrone forced a smile, but it was a human one, not a creepy demon one. “Yeah, I know. Not here, though. Right now I just want to focus on something fun. So! Thomas’ stag night?”

“Okay,” Thomas said softly. Repeated, louder, “Okay. Fine, we’re planning this. Apparently I’m having one. Could be fun, I guess.”

“You’re not planning anything, it’s supposed to be a surprise. We just need some information from you,” Brad said, making an impatient gesture while still holding his glass of wine. It just barely missed spilling all over the table. “What are some things you really don’t want?”

“No strippers,” Thomas hurried to say. “And no excessive alcohol.”

“Being the sober one while everyone is drunk is no fun, anyway,” Tyrone agreed.

“Can demons get drunk?” Eduardo said, pondering.

“There’s stuff that’ll do it, sure. There’s this bar in the Mindscape that has literally everything.”

Brad gave Thomas a joking little punch to his arm. “Goody two-shoes. For the record, when I get hitched I do want both of those.”

“Sure. In the nebulous alternate reality where you actually settle down long enough to marry someone, we’ll keep that in mind,” Tyrone said, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey! It could happen sooner than you think.”

“I’m basically semi-omniscient and even I think those are really slim odds.”

“Ouch. Really?”

“Nah, I’m just messing with you.”

“How do you feel about distant heights, dude?” Eduardo said, ignoring the byplay between Tyrone and Brad.

Thomas eyed him. “Er…. Not a fan? Please don’t take me skydiving, I’ll throw up midair and no one wants that raining down on their heads.”

“How about blindfolds? Wild animals? Light destruction of property?”

“Just what exactly are you planning!?”

“Aw man,” Tyrone groaned, dropping his head on the table. “Not again! Sorry guys, I need to leave.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, don’t go, I need a voice of reason right now,” Thomas said, before realising to whom exactly he was speaking. Still though. “You just got here.”

Tyrone got up and threw his lemonade back in one gulp. “Tell that to those idiots summoning me. I’ll finish this up in a sec and I’ll be back here before you know it, p̕r̨omįs̕e.”

“Okay,” Thomas said, with a niggling worry in the back of his head. “See you later then.”

Tyrone left, with a vague wave and a smile.

He didn’t return.

----

Her hands were shaking. 

A loud bang from upstairs nearly made her drop the piece of chalk. Come on, come on, hurry...

The instructions had been slid underneath her dorm room door. No matter how careful she'd been, someone had noticed her predicament. She was lucky they hadn't made a big deal of it, like her roommate had done when she had found out.

("You've got to tell someone! Call the cops, at least! You can't let them do this to you, Val.")

Call the cops, sure. They were sure to believe her over her parents, pillars of the community, beloved by their entire church. While she was the 'difficult child'. Always running away, always lying.

Yeah. She'd seen what use the cops had been. No, she needed something more.

In the flickering light of the candles, the chalk lines seemed to tremble in anticipation.

Calling a demon though? It was… rash. But there were stories about this one. How he would help instead of hurt, how he traded favours for candy, how he went easy on desperate people like her. She had to try.

The sounds from upstairs were louder now. Doors slamming. Yelling.

She shouldn't have tried to run again. That had been her first mistake. No - the first mistake was letting her parents know about Dave.

It was the first time she actually had somewhere to run to, after all. Someone who would believe her, who would back her up.

Of course they were never going to let her leave.

She was nearly done. Now she could only hope the basement door held on long enough.

"Where is she!" Close enough to hear the words, now. Val held the crumpled paper with the instructions to the light of the candles. "Where is that ungrateful bitch!"

A crash. She flinched as she heard her mother rage.

Her father's voice was too quiet to understand, but it was near the basement door. Too close.

She never doubted her parents loved each other. How protective dad was towards that woman... But had they ever loved her?

She would never get away. Not unless she made them see. Made them let her go.

She took a deep breath. And recited the incantation.

The candle flames flashed blue, then red. In the thick black smoke forming in the centre of the circle, Alcor the Dreambender appeared.

When the demon left, some time later, the house was silent. A hint of sulphur lingered in the air, before that too dissipated.