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

Alex rested his sword by his side as he took in the Demon Hunters that surrounded him. Veronica, the girl with the purple hair, he noticed her hand on her hip. That’s where her weapon was. He remembered it being a dagger curved like a scimitar with a leather grip and white faceted pommel. She had yet to draw it. Their eyes met. Her hand slipped down her waist and hung loosely by her side. Alex wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but he got the impression she wasn’t going to try anything.

He turned away from her and spun around in a slow circle. The Demon Hunters all had weapons in their hands, but they’d had those before he’d kicked Mark to the fountain. Most stood still, uncertain stares directed his way. None stepped forward.

“Seize the moment, dipshit. Show your leadership skills. You just defeated the head douchebag. You got to take his spot and earn the pussies,” the voice said. 

Earn the pussies. Alex shook his head. “Thanks for the amazing pep talk,” he muttered. 

“Anytime, fuckface.” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Is it possible for you to say a single sentence without swearing?” 

There was a long silence. And then, “You’re a vagina.”

Alex sighed. As annoying as the voice was, it did give him some sensible advice. He needed to make the most of defeating Mark. He needed to do it soon too, while the Demon Hunters remained uncertain.

“It’s over,” Alex said, his voice as loud as it could possibly be without resorting to shouting. “Leave the demons alone. Go back to the Red House of Satan, or...wherever it is you guys go when you’re not murdering demons.”

“Nice. Really nice.”

“Fuck off,” Alex grumbled. 

“Oooo bitchy,” the voice chuckled.

None of the Demon Hunters moved. They stared at him, some still unsure, but others wore tight faces and steely glares. They wanted to attack him. The only thing stopping them was the fact that he’d just easily wiped the floor with Mark, one of their supposedly more skilled comrades.

Cowards.

That was what they were.

And then, a tall motherfucker of a Demon Hunter stepped forward. He stood at close to eight feet. In his hands he held a suitably large axe. The handle was black, the cheek silver in colour and the blade gold.

The Demon Hunter moved towards him. His t-shirt looked three sizes too small. His arms bulged with pure muscle. With long black hair and a scruffy beard, he looked suitably beastly.

“Let’s make this quick,” the voice said. “Discourage any other motherfucker from trying to be a hero.”

“Is that doubt I hear?” Alex asked.        

“I said a sentence without cursing, dipshit. And that’s the response I get? It’s your life on the line, douchebag. If I die, I’ll just come back again. But you, it’s bye-bye mother fucker.”

“How do you know you’ll come back? You’re not supposed to remember anything.” 

“Duck,” the voice said. 

Alex was about to ask what the voice meant by “duck” when he realised the big Demon Hunter had closed in. His arms swung the axe, aiming for his throat. It would have been a clean decapitation had Alex not ducked just in time. He came back up and slammed the longsword pommel upwards, striking the giant’s chin. It was a good strike. The lights went out as the enormous demon hunter fell like a sack of potatoes.

“Anyone else want some?” Alex roared.

“Much better,” the voice said. “You almost sounded manly there.” 

He faced the Demon Hunters around him. None seemed keen, some stepped back. A convincing victory, it seemed. But they still surrounded him, uncertain of what to do next. And then, Victoria, the girl with the purple hair spoke up.

“Tonight is over,” she said. “Disperse the demons, then leave.”

The Demon Hunters turned, faced the demons and began to push them back. Some told them to go home, others simply kept walking towards the demons, moving them back with their presence. Slowly but surely, the demon crowd began to disperse.

Alex met Victoria’s eyes and gave her a nod. Her lips twitched into a small smile before she glanced towards the mostly naked body of Melissa lying on the tarmac. Alex felt like an idiot. So busy had he been with Mark and the others, he’d completely forgotten about her.

He rushed over to her and knelt down, taking her hands in his. “How are you feeling?”

“Little bit tired,” she said, smiling weakly. “That’s the second time you’ve come to my rescue.”

“There are easier ways to get my attention,” Alex grinned.

His cheeks reddened and he felt foolish flirting with her. Not only was this not the time or place, what he’d just said was incredibly cheesy. But Melissa seemed not to mind. He helped her to her feet, then studied her for damage. She had some minor bruising on her face, another one just under her left breast and her knees were scraped.

Minor injuries. The same couldn’t be said for the bodies that littered the space around the fountain. With the Demon Hunters mostly gone, some of the demons were back. Dead and injured demons were being dragged away.

Alex sheathed his sword and wrapped an arm around Melissa’s bare waist. It was only then did he realise how naked she was. He glanced around for her clothes. They were nowhere to be seen. Alex tried to pull his top off, then realised the sheath’s straps were fastened over it.

Victoria read his mind. She unbuttoned her silky white shirt and passed it to Melissa.

“...thanks,” Alex mumbled.

Victoria smiled. “You can stare,” she said. “I don’t mind.”

Alex swallowed nervously. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” he said, knowing exactly what she meant and trying his hardest to not look at her chest.

“If she insists, why don’t you look at them? They’re fucking magnificent,” the voice.