The Devil's Apprentice by Patrick Stewart (polar express read aloud TXT) 📕

Mark. He really wanted to punch the guy in the face. If he did, he knew how that would end. The blonde douchebag was at least six foot five and had arms that usually came from steroid abuse. Alex, on the other hand looked more like he’d just survived a famine.

He forced his attention onto the demon. “How do I know you?”

The three demon hunters that surrounded the girl, that stood as a barrier between him and her, they stepped aside as if to let her through. The demon girl’s hesitance was obvious. She remained with her bottom against the wall, her hands behind her back.

“It’s Melissa,” she said, as she lowered her gaze, now staring at her feet.

Melissa? Alex searched his brain for any memory of a demon girl he might have ever met named Melissa. He didn’t have to search long or strain his memory much. He didn’t know any demon girls. He did know one girl named Melissa though. She was a pretty girl that worked for the same security company as he did.

This demon before him did resemble that Melissa. They had the same features, height and even the voice. If the demon had white skin, brown eyes and brown hair, then….

He recalled how Chrissy’s boyfriend had appeared human one moment, a demon the next. Alex’s eyes widened as he stared at the demon. “Melissa from work?”

She raised her head; her yellow eyes met his. She gave a quick nod, her cheeks now positively magenta.

Most of his security colleagues were old and a little on the bitter side. They were also pretty stupid. He could understand the bitterness. Who wanted to be working for pennies well into their sixties? But their sheer stupidity did tend to piss him off some. Alex liked Melissa. She was about the only one at work that he liked. She was really pretty too.

“Alex,” Karen called. “Let’s go.”

She stood on the sidewalk a few feet away from Mark, a pleading look in her eyes. She could sense the tension and he knew she wanted no part of it. He was alone in this. But what this was, he wasn’t sure yet.

Alex turned to Mark. “What are you going to do with her?”

Mark shrugged. “Haven’t decided.” He glanced at the three Demon Hunters that stood on the grass near Melissa. “I think George wants to see how wide the Nymph’s cunt can get…” he grinned nonchalantly, as if he’d just suggested throwing a lit firework down someone’s letterbox.

Alex swallowed uncomfortably. He knew this was a harsher world, but what sort of twisted place did it have to be for a person to say something so casually? A person in authority too. “What did she do to deserve that?”

“Be born a demon,” Mark laughed. It subsided into a lazy grin, his eyes flickered over Alex’s stance. “You want to do something, boy?”

Boy? Mark looked about the same age as Alex, though it was entirely possible he was a few hundred years of age. He certainly had that mentality, one that belonged in the pages of history.

Alex knew this would end badly for him. His hands clenched into fists, he marched towards Mark. The arrogant fucker remained with his arms by his side, evening tilting his head to expose his impressive jawline, inviting the punch. Alex swung his right arm. His knuckles connected well.

It felt like punching a brick wall.

Every bone in his hand felt broken. To his credit, he managed to hold back a scream, though his eyes did water. The lazy grin, the bored eyes, they disappeared from Mark’s face. Now he had a glint in his eyes and an evil smile to match.

“Big mistake, boy. I’m the best Demon Hunter out there. You’re pathetic even for a human. You’re fucked.”

Hunched over in pain, Alex took a step back. He figured he was fucked, knew as much when he marched towards Mark with fists ready to strike. Back then he was hoping to get in a solid punch before the inevitable ass-whooping. The punch was solid alright. Mark just happened to be a fucking tank.

What happened next was mostly a blur. Mark moved with inhuman speed. His fists came up a blur. Alex felt them connect. One struck him on the left cheekbone, the other hit his nose. There was a crack as it broke.

Alex was on the ground on his back, his arms spread out. He stared up at Mark. Blood dripped down his nose and over his lips. The metallic taste of blood entered his mouth as his cheekbone throbbed.

Mark stepped away and turned. His hands reached his waist. He pulled out two swords by their golden hilts. The silver blades sparkled in the sunlight. Alex rolled over and climbed to his feet. Taking care to steady himself, he wiped the blood away from his nose.

Karen remained rooted to the spot by the sidewalk. He couldn’t count on any support from her. The sympathetic look was the most he would be getting. Melissa, the demon girl who worked security night shifts with him, stared at him in horror. The three Demon Hunters had their backs turned to her. The two dudes wore identical grins. The girl with the purple hair, her expression was unreadable bordering on blank.

And then there was Mark.

He’d pulled his t-shirt off to reveal a perfectly ripped body. He stood with a sword in each hand and as a gust of wind swept his golden locks back, he looked like a modern version of Conan.

Alex wondered if this was how he was going to die. His immortality was only against natural causes. He’d got his ass kicked against an unarmed Mark. Now that the guy had two swords…

“Come on, boy,” Mark growled. “Let’s dance.”

“I’d rather not,” Alex muttered.

“Give him a weapon,” Mark said, ignoring him.

The Demon