AverageBeef t1_ixghz3j wrote

Alright, here's a part 2. It's probably veritable character assassination. I'm still a little too stupid for Reddit formatting


“Terrance, just this once listen to me. Grab the rotten goat from the fridge!” The fiend revealed his claws and lunged at me. I narrowly sidestepped, pinned between him in the foyer and the cascading rays of light in the living room.

“Stanislaus! Now is not the time for your weird goat habits. I threw it out this morning! This wouldn’t be a problem if I had my lucky stakes, but someone decided to clean up for once in their lives.” Facing unfathomable torment at the hands of an archdevil and he still wanted his stakes, the nerve!

“Terrance, how many times have I told you-“ Lewis began to cackle uncontrollably and the shadows seemed to coalesce around him. That couldn’t be good. “The goat was to protect the house from him. His kind hates the smell!” Lewis fashioned a crude lance from the shadows and threw it at Terrance. He rolled, and it went clean through the couch and the drywall behind it.

“You never mentioned that, Stanislaus! That’s why I had my lucky stakes! They were blessed to protect the home from him!” Lewis swiped again, grazing my side. A sickly black liquid emerged from the wound.

“Terrance, the blinds!” Mercifully he pulled down the blinds. A quick flight as a bat and I was beside him. “You knew he was an archfiend, and you thought the goat was for personal use? What idiot signs a contract with an archfiend without knowing about their aversion to goats?”

He suddenly grinned the most ridiculous grin. “Why Stanislaus, what idiot signs a contract with an archfiend and cannot recognize protective wards?” Lewis roared, calling the shadows to him once more.

“Is the goat in the trash chute?” He nodded. “Why I oughtta” I wrestled him into a headlock. “Choose now. Me or him?”

“Him.” I released him, as the shadows formed a greataxe, and the fiend charged us.

“It’s garbage day, I can’t reach the dumpster. You need to recover the goat, just grab the liver!” The axe crashed down and the couch was riven in two, as the axe returned to shadow.

“Stanislaus you’ll have to distract him. I know what we agreed, but take this. It’s for someone more nimble and skilled than you, but it will do.” He took out a concealed sword from one of the halves of the couch, tossing it to me. I took the duelist’s stance I had mastered so long ago as Terrance ran to the door.

“Say, I don’t think the renter’s insurance will cover that. “ I thrust the sword where one might expect a heart, precise and swift, but the shadows moved to meet my blade. I looked down at it in my hand. A symbol of a ram carved into the hilt with the name Ardor’s Bane. “Terrance! You have Ardor’s Bane? It ended my brother!” That demon shrugged as he dove into the chute. Mr. Lewis thrust, I parried, dodged and countered with a thrust of my own. This time, I disarmed him and pierced his chest. He laughed, and black particles spewing from his chest. I kicked him in the knee. Once. Twice. He buckled. I twisted the sword. The blessing in the sword began to resonate, an iridescence covering the edge. He continued to cackle. He fell back, into the sliver of sun that the spear had created when it pierced the wall. As the wound was exposed it began to burn and flake.

Terrence threw the door open. The living room was demolished, black marks covering the walls and a thin layer of black particles hanging in the room. The remains of the liver covered his hands in a sickly ooze. As he took sight of me standing over the demon, his eyes widened. “Stanislaus. I had thought he would have done my job for me.”

“I’m not that easy to get rid of. You actually got the liver. Apply it to the wound quickly.”

As the liver made contact with the wound, the archfiend roared, a roar of unmitigated fear, the fears of nightmares themselves. Surely louder than any tussle I had with Terrance.

“I think I’ve underestimated you Stanislaus. Are there any other rotting animals of import that I need to know about?”

“There’s some walrus flippers in the freezer, but they should last quite a while.”

“Very well. I think we might get a deal on the apartment if we buy it outright.” He paused, and studied me, still breathing heavily. “Stanislaus, I’ve never asked, what is it that you actually do each night?”

“Get the stakes out of the house and I’ll show you tonight.”


AverageBeef t1_ixbxv5x wrote

Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm roused me from my sleep. 5:45. He’d be home soon. He had to be back before the sun came up. My phone rang. It was him.

“Wore out your welcome again?” I asked. I slipped on a sweatshirt and some slippers.

“Yes. Hurry up and get down here. The sun is coming up soon” he hissed.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” I hung up. The elevator was out of order again. I opened the gate and put on the largest grin I could. “Good Morrow Stanislaus! What brings you here on this fine morn?”

“C’mon just let me in. You don’t want to deal with Mr. Lewis if we don’t make the rent”

“Why that’s awfully impolite of you Stanislaus. Nevertheless, come in, come in.” With a flourish he dashed past me and into the stairwell. When I caught up to him, he was pulling down the living room blinds. I might as well make breakfast since I was up anyway. The remains of a goat had expired in the fridge. “Stanislaus, the goat needs to go, or I’m paying the rent with your head!” I began spreading a mixture of pesto and avocado on some toast. A breakfast of champions.

“The goat is a problem when you eat that every morning? Never in my 700 years have I met someone as insufferable as you Terrance!” He lay down on the couch. “ I come home from a long night of work only to come home to you! You don’t welcome me, instead playing your sick games! you leave your stuff everywhere, and you eat every meal with garlic! I have half a mind to just feed upon you!”

“Ah ah. Mr. Lewis would never let you back in, if you committed a murder in here” I chided him. I took a quick shower and got dressed. “Stanislaus! Where did you put my work stakes?”

“We talked about this. No stakes in the living room. I threw them out.”

“Those were my lucky stakes! What are they going to say when I show up with the decorative stakes I got for my birthday?”

Somebody knocked on the door. Stanislaus beat me to it. It was Mr. Lewis. A well built balding man with a cigar in his mouth. “Terrence. Stanislaus. I’ve received a lot of noise complaints about you two. I’m evicting you.”

We locked eyes. I tried to jump away but Stanislaus was faster. He hit me squarely in the jaw. I ran into the living room and pulled the blinds up, keeping him in the foyer. “You can’t hide there forever Terrence!”

“I don’t have to. You remember when I washed the couch cushions last year? I put a decorative stake in each cushion. I knew this day would come.” I began rummaging through the couch.

Mr. Lewis walked in. “This won’t do. Quicker. ” His head shimmered and a demonic visage appeared. A jet black snout with rows of teeth.

Stanislaus and I both screamed.