Chapter 15: Failure Is Not an Option Part Two

I reached into the jam-packed space and extended my fingers to loosen a large bottle. On my second attempt, I grabbed it and pulled it out.

The label read Flying Insect Killer. Non-toxic. Sweet aroma spray with cinnamon and clove. Powerfully potent and fast-acting. This spray eliminated our gnat problem and came equipped with serious spray and stream settings. Most importantly, the label had moths on its kill list.

I twisted upward in a flash, whipped the bottle to my side, and shook it well. I strongly suspected that I needed the addition of some magic, so I decided I would arm my attack with Nudged Synchronicity.

Then I pointed it in the moth’s direction, turned the nozzle to stream, and said, “Pro’ elium h’t,” punching the spray trigger.

Let’s just say the stream came nowhere near close to the moth, but thinking fast, I twisted the nozzle to spray and pumped the whole bottle into the air.

The fumes needed a boost, so I reached behind the counter for the mini vintage air circulator Jammer bought to push Myles’ burnt dinner smells out the window. I stretched the cord taut and twisted the fan dial to its highest setting.

The air current blasted upward and outward. I started coughing from its effects, as did Gene and Myles.

I knew only hellfire could kill the moth, but I was seriously hoping the poison would knock some steam out of that little bastard.

Pushing the mini fan into the air, I’m sure I looked like a fool to my friends, but my gambit paid off. The moth’s fluttering slowly started losing altitude, bringing it dangerously close to Hellie’s snapping teeth.

That’s when I noticed the moth shift into escape mode. It swung its flight pattern toward the open space just beyond the railing, next to the indoor track.

If the moth made it out there, over the entertainment area on the first level, Hellie could not continue tracking it.

Hellie jumped off the island, growling, slowly stalking her prey as it flew. Her swaying and stamping body language told me she was trying to devise a plan, but I knew from observing that her current form was too limited.

My judgment was confirmed when Hellie reached the railing. She hopped her front paws onto the banister, manically growling. Her frustration was apparent; she couldn’t go beyond that point.

The moth was getting away.

Then it clicked.

I spoke in a calm but stern voice. “Hellie.”

Finally, she turned her head and acknowledged me.

“It’s okay, girl. Change.”

Hellie instantly shed her inferior shell, replacing it with her glorious but terrifying beast-dog form.

Straight away, the metal and wood banister bent like taffy under the weight of her paws. She lunged into the air using her powerful hind legs, quickly closing the distance on her prey. Then, twisting her head, she opened her mouth, and flames flared out as she chomped down and consumed the moth.

Then Hellie’s massive body fell out of sight.

Crash. From the awful sounds emanating from the ground level, I knew something in my entertainment paradise was no more.

I snatched my grimoire off the ground, ran to the rail, and peered over. Hellie was back in her human form and naked as a jaybird, standing amid the obliterated ping-pong table and other wrecked items.

Looking up at me, Hellie seemed pleased.

I smiled down at her.

But my smile quickly faded when Weird Nikki came power-charging from the entrance direction with a tote bag over her shoulder. I regretted ever giving her keys to the building right about that time.

“Billy, WTF!? Come down here right now! You have some explaining to do, ” Weird Nikki hollered up at me.

“It’s alright, girl. She’s a friend.”

Gene and Myles joined me at the rail, emerging from their hiding spots.

“Who’s Hellie?” Myles’s facial expression dropped when he looked down at the scene. “Is that Hellie?”

“Yeah.”

Myles went silent after my reply.

“Holy hell. The ping-pong table! Okay, is Weird Nikki helping a naked girl get dressed?” Then, as if discovering an alarming detail, Gene said, “Billy, isn’t that the girl who was in your room?”

In response, I gave Gene an expression between a shit-eating grin and uncertainty.

“Guys?”

All of us standing at the rail immediately turned to see Jammer coming out of the corridor. She looked ragged, holding her shoulder and limping.

“What’s happening?”

I turned from the left, looked to the right, then looked down. All eyes were on me.

I spied my grimoire tucked to my side and gripped it tightly in my hand.

I have some explaining to do.

***

We had all migrated to the TV area on the first floor so I could try to explain the unexplainable. I shared the large couch with Hellie, who was resting next to me.

After Jammer covered her with a fluffy throw cover, Hellie snuggled up and fell asleep. Obviously, from my cynical point of view, she was tired from causing all the crazy damage. I sighed and let out a little huff, thinking about how complicated it would be to discuss getting the money to fix everything with my financial advisor.

I peered out at my friends. All the members of the Nightshade, our role-playing party, were present except for Nate.

Although they sat at a distance, their presence crowded me. It didn’t help that no one had turned on the lights. The unusual dimness made the whole ordeal feel like an interrogation.

Spooked, Myles sat in the recliner to my left with Jammer leaning on its back, complaining her body ached too bad to sit.

In the recliner to my right, Gene edged forward, elbows on his knees, fingers cuffed. He did not mask his intrigue.

And, of course, Weird Nikki had to be face-to-face, so she grabbed a square cushion seat and plopped it on the other side of the lounge table that divided us.

I didn’t embellish the retelling of the events to add dramatic flair. The shit was nuts on its own. I stuck to the facts, or at least the facts as I saw them.

Displaying my trust, I let them examine Rules of the Black Arts for Advanced Users to show how I derived everything. Myles and Jammer wanted nothing to do with my grimoire. Only Weird Nikki and Gene bothered looking.

I touched on all the details about my grimoire: the summoning, the killings, the cover-up, the spy, and the fact that I needed to get to sociology in thirty minutes or fail the class.

Out of all the topics I touched on, I was most anxious about the certainty of receiving a failing grade.

“Before you left like a crazy person, I tried to warn you that this book is a grimoire,” Gene smugly announced, still holding it.

“Okay, and if you had?”

I reached over and reclaimed my possession.

“What would it have mattered? I still would have read it out of curiosity. They sell grimoires in the stores. They’re harmless.”

“Billy’s right. Bookstores are the worst for Black Arts material, but the internet…I found a real effigy spell in its dark recesses.”

We turned to Weird Nikki. It was the first time since we strolled into the area that everyone’s attention was off of me.

“Don’t get me wrong, I dabble with the arts purely for aesthetics and kicks, but summoning hellhounds? Hell no. BRB, restroom break.”

Weird Nikki got up and left the room. So, naturally, Gene and I continued bantering.

“Just saying. Maybe we wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t treated it like a toy.”

But then I dropped the bomb that silenced them all, but not for the right reason.

“All I did was read my grimoire. So don’t throw accusations of carelessness at me because I’m such a powerful mage that my grimoire responded to me.”

The blank looks on everyone’s faces said it all. Even though I summoned a hellhound and assisted with defeating a supernatural moth, they still doubted my mage status.

“Hello. Hellhound on the couch. Who summoned her? Me!”

“Did anyone else hear Billy say ‘my grimoire’ twice? Could the book be possessing him?”

In unison, Gene and I shouted.

“Shut up, Myles!”

“Dude, no one said a thing about your mage status. And after all the stuff you spilled, you seem to be more worried about sociology class. I just want you to take this more seriously. None of us can deny that something unusual is going on. But look at the unknowns: You don’t know how you got the book. You’re not sure where she came from exactly; you said she fell from the sky. You don’t know who is after you. And you don’t know who sent the moth.”

Gene made some excellent points, but he was wrong about one thing: I knew where Hellie came from, I called her out of the Void. I kept it a secret that my hellhound was Shellie and Nightshade returned. So what? They didn’t need to know everything.

Before I could counter Gene, Weird Nikki entered the room and tossed my backpack at me.

“Okay, dork. You only have fifteen minutes to get to class. I’ll sit with your little beastie.”

“Really?”

I immediately stood up, taking advantage of Weird Nikki’s offer, pushing out the negativity of something happening while pushing my grimoire into the backpack.

My actions spurred Myles’ fears even more.

“Wait. Weird Nikki, you can’t be signing off on this.”

“Yeah. His class is a ten-minute sprint from here.”

She turned to me with a confident but inquisitive expression.

“What do you need—eighty minutes, tops? Best-case scenario, she stays asleep. Worst-case scenario, she runs wild and eats a few people.”

“Hellie won’t do that! She won’t break my ground rules. I’ll try to get Mr. Vaughn to let me present first and bail early.”

“Keep your cell close. If she wakes, you’ll have to do damage control from there. And if any of you are scared, you can clear out. I got this.”

I pulled my cell out and waved it.

“Check. Thank you, Weird Nikki.”

I hugged Weird Nikki out of excitement, but she just stood lifeless. Seeing her body language, I let her go.

Sliding my backpack onto my shoulder, I turned away from her. The mood in the room was grave. No one else was happy with my decision to leave. Astonishingly, they acted like I was dropping a nuclear bomb on their laps.

Nonsense.

Shellie and Nightshade were sweet. Therefore, Hellie was sweet, so I left.

***

It was almost like a daydream how well my presentation went. Nothing like the messy scenario I convinced myself it would be. But I was back home, standing in the entranceway of the TV room—where I had left everyone—and all I kept thinking to myself was…

I should have never left them alone with a hellhound. What was I thinking?

I saw the scattered body parts of my friends in the darkened area. The massacre was worse than the one that took place in the woods.

Dread filled my soul as I entered the room, hoping to find survivors.

Large scratches marred the furniture, floors, walls, and even the ceilings, and the watery sloshing sounds on the floor made me look down. I immediately regretted doing so after seeing my shoes covered in blood and fleshy pieces of someone, I dared not think who.

The thought repeated: I should have never left them alone with a hellhound.

Sudden, soft noises pulled me farther into the darkest region of the space. The closer I moved to the source, the more I recognized that the noises were vicious chewing sounds.

I stopped when the silhouette of Hellie’s massive beast-dog body took shape. In an instant, she whipped her head around at me. Her eyes were glowing ghostly white, and blood flowed off her large canine teeth.

Again.

What was I thinking?

Everyone was dead.