Class Reunion
Link to AO3.
A TAU oneshot, part of the So You Want To Be A Demonogist series.
(Trigger warning for threatening gun violence. Otherwise just some mild cursing.)
Class Reunion
“Understood?”
The group exchanged grim nods. One of them touched his gun in its holster – another fingered the knives hidden on his body. The plan was clear. They all knew their part. After tonight, they’d all leave as rich men.
“Um…”
The youngest among them tensed as all eyes turned to him. He swallowed thickly. “I just – I have a question? Sort of? Just a bit confused, sorry.”
Their leader frowned. “What is it?”
“Just making sure I understand… so we go to the restaurant tonight, right? And Mike is going to let us in and we’ll have the right outfits and stuff?”
“Oy, don’t use my real name, you twit,” the one called Mike protested. “You gotta call me Red tonight.”
“Right, codenames, sorry… That um, reminds me – can I get a different one? I don’t want to be Green.”
His hopeful expression wilted under the eyes of their leader. “Or not. I guess. Green is fine. Um. So we infiltrate into the restaurant, get rid of the real staff, and at the signal we herd all the guests into the big party room and, um - we barricade ourselves inside so no one can escape, right?”
“And then we’ll take all their money and valuables,” one of his buddies said, with a dark grin. “Or else.”
“Yeah, right, that,” Green said. “But what I don’t get… how exactly are we getting out, again? If we barricade ourselves inside, I mean –“
“I did explain this before,” the leader said, exasperated. “The private dining room is rented out tonight to some posh politician. Class reunion or something like that. They’ll all be hostages, but he’s going to be our main prize. His family is loaded.”
“So they’ll just… give us a helicopter and all their money and stuff?”
“More or less,” Red said. “And that’s why you’re Green, newbie. You worry too much. This’ll be a piece of cake. Just let us do the talking and don’t shoot him before we’ve got the money and you’ll be fine.”
“Right,” said Green, worrying.
The leader straightened his back. “Then there are no more questions? Good. Remember – what is it this time?”
Green meekly lowered his hand. “Sorry. Just wondering which politician we’re talking about? I don’t want to accidentally shoot our meal ticket…”
“That newest guy on the city council,” the leader said. “Hallman. Done with the questions now? I need to prepare some things, get out.”
“Right, yeah, sorry,” Green mumbled, following his fellow colours out of their meeting spot.
This was going to be easy. Right? They wouldn’t put up much of a fight, he bet. It’s not like they were going to be armed or anything – not for fancy dining, or what was it? A class reunion? He could handle some dressed-up nobs and nerds!
This was going to be easy and he was going to be rich!
----------
Thomas fidgeted with his tie. The restaurant looked as if they would charge you an arm, a leg and your firstborn, just to eat here. And that was just the outside view.
Yep, this was way out of his budget.
“Stop messing with your tie,” Elisha said from behind the wheel. “You’ll wrinkle it.”
Thomas sighed. “I wish we’d taken Rainbow Basher. No offense, but you know how this one acts around fancy cars.”
“It’ll behave,” Elisha said. She patted the dashboard. “Won’t you?”
The engine purred like a chainsaw. Not a comforting sound, except to Elisha’s ears.
“I hope so,” Thomas said, with a wary glance look at the other cars in the lot. “Because we definitely can’t afford to pay for damages this time.”
They parked in front of the valet, who stared at the beaten-up wreck they were driving as if it was a personal affront.
“Welcome to Le Cochon d’Or, monsieur et madame,” the valet said. “Shall I park your… vehicle?”
“Treat it well,” Elisha warned him, as she handed him the keys.
“And no joyriding,” Thomas couldn’t resist adding. “It’s an antique.”
He offered his arm to Elisha and they entered the restaurant. Behind them he could hear an engine growling and a small scream. No crashing sounds though! So it would probably be fine.
The maitre d’hotel was a woman with the most inoffensive expression a human being could have. With that mild smile and blank eyes she would have fared well against any face-stealing demon Thomas could name.
“Bonsoir, madame et monsieur,” she said. “Do you have reservations?”
“Um, yes,” Thomas said. “Sort of. We’re here for the reunion? Just a second, I’m sure I have the invitation somewhere… Here you go.”
“Ah, oui, monsieur Hallman’s guests. Follow me, please.”
They left their coats in the cloakroom and followed the maitre d' to the private room that had been set aside for this reunion. They must be earlier than Thomas thought – the room was empty, aside from the lone figure sitting near the bar.
“Hi guys,” Maria said, playing with the empty glass in front of her. “Glad someone else shows up.”
“Isn’t Brad supposed to be here already?” Elisha asked.
“You know the rich. Always fashionably late.” Maria shrugged. “Me? I’m not going to miss a second of the open bar. Speaking of…”
She leaned over the bar top and found a bottle inside grabbing range, idly checking the label before filling her glass. “Thomas, be a dear and see if there’s orange juice back there?”
“You know that’s not what ‘open bar’ means, right?” Thomas said.
“Do you see a bartender anywhere? Ah, thanks Elisha. Grab a glass, I’ll make you one as well.”
“No thanks, I’m more in the mood for champagne,” Elisha said, putting the orange juice back after Maria added a small amount to her glass.
“Good choice! Every pretentious French restaurant should have some. Let’s see… This bottle looks expensive.”
Thomas cringed as Maria uncorked it. It did look expensive. “I really wish you wouldn’t. There has to be a bartender and they won’t like this.”
“They shouldn’t have left me alone then,” Maria grinned, toasting them. “Cheers.”
“You worry too much,” Elisha said, mercifully moving back to the proper side of the bar and handing him a glass of probably way overpriced champagne.
“He always does,” Maria said. “So, what do you think of this place? The valet looked like he'd never seen a motorcycle before. Which car did you guys take?”
"Let’s see, the fluorescent, rainbow coloured one with the large summoning circle on the back, or the destructive, beaten up one that literally falls apart and yet keeps driving?" Thomas asked. “How could I choose? They both fit so well in this fancy setting.”
"Be fair, they're both destructive."
“I know. But at least Rainbow doesn’t have an irrational hatred for sports cars. My bank account trembles in fear of tonight.”
The door to the restaurant opened, letting in the soft but busy sounds of fancy dining - and a familiar face, quite a bit older than the last time Thomas saw it.
“Am I early?” the man said, offering them handshakes. “Nice to see you again, Dewitt. Strange. How are you?”
"I can't complain," Thomas said, a warm feeling in his chest because it hadn’t yet lost its novelty to make this introduction. "And how are you, Carver? This is Elisha McKenzie. My wife."
"Sounds like you've done well for yourself," Carver said. "Nice to meet you, Elisha."
“Likewise.”
"My wife couldn't come tonight,” Carver went on. “Couldn't find a babysitter, you know how it is. Besides, she hates this fancy stuff. Who organised this, anyway?"
"Brad, of course," Maria said. "He's paying for it at least. So enjoy the open bar! I do hope there’ll be some snacks soon."
"Brad? Hallman? He’s paying for this reunion?"
"I know the university board isn’t," Thomas said. "I have to fill in three forms just to requisition a new pencil. And they cut my budget for sacrifices with twenty percent! Though to be fair, half of that budget goes to buying snacks for Alcor, and he has been taking advantage lately."
"Oh, right. You work with Hicks now, right?"
"Yep."
"And Alcor still shows up?"
"You could say that."
"So... did ‘Evergreen’ get an invitation tonight as well?"
"Of course," Maria said. "Tyrone is an alumni just like we are."
"Yeah... In a matter of speaking."
"Why? You don't like him?"
"I've worked with him, occasionally," Carver said. "But that was in a binding circle, you know? It's still weird to think we all went to college with the Dreambender himself."
"In a binding circle," Maria repeated, grinning. "You know he only stays inside of those to be polite, right?"
Carver pulled a face. “I know. But it's the thought that counts. So, he is coming, I suppose?"
"Yes, but he’ll probably be running late,” Thomas said. “There was this summoning he needed to be first, I think."
"That sounds worrying."
Thomas sighed. "I know. Sometimes those things get so out of hand and he'll be miserable for days afterwards."
Carver gave him a funny look. "I'd worry more about the summoners and less about the demon, but okay."
“So what can I get you, Carver?” Maria asked, rummaging behind the bar again. “Some overpriced champagne? Let’s see what else we’ve got here… Oh, there’s Pitt Cola, I could whip you up a Pitt Surprise?”
“You’re bartending tonight?”
“Why not? No one else seems to be. And I do have the experience.”
“As I recall, your bar was closed down for health violations last week,” another, very familiar voice said. “Something about keeping bags of blood next to the sandwiches?”
“Temporarily closed down,” Maria said, with a nonchalant wave. “Nothing I can’t iron out in another week or so. And what can I say? I cater to a diverse crowd.”
Brad rolled his eyes and came in, Rebecca on his arm. They were both dressed to the nines, he in a suit that probably cost more than a car – well, not his car, Rainbow was priceless – and seeing him like that was always a bit jarring. He looked like the up-and-coming politician he was, and not like the baggy t-shirt wearing, ever-messy gamer Thomas remembered. What had happened? When had they all suddenly turned into responsible adults?
… mostly responsible, he amended, with a glance at Maria. She’d found a stash of maraschino cherries and dramatically dropped one into the foamy concontion she was preparing for Carver. “Is it supposed to change colour like that?”
“They don’t call it Pitt Surprise for nothing,” she said. “You want one as well, Brad? And you, Becky?”
“Depends… what’s in it?”
“Mostly Pitt Cola.”
“And?”
“Surprise.”
“I always knew I would die by poisoning, I just never expected it to be tonight,” teased Brad. “Sure, why not. As long as it’s not New Pitt.”
“You’re talking about that time they changed the recipe?” Elisha said. “That hasn’t been on the market for years.”
“I know!” Maria shared a grin with Brad and Thomas. “Isn’t it great?”
Elisha frowned. “I think I’m missing some context here.”
“It’s… kind of one of the things that cemented our little group together,” Thomas admitted. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later if you want.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
The other guests were starting to arrive, faces both familiar and not. Callide was unmistakeble – cyclops ancestry was easy to recognize and she didn’t seem to have aged a day – but the others of their little graduating class had all… grown up. Ten years had added faint wrinkles, the first of grey hairs. Brennan had a mustache now, which didn’t exactly suit him, and a husband on his arm, which did. Watson wore pearls and severe lipstick, a far cry from the casual pink dresses and overstuffed flowery backpack she used to lug around. Her husband was some kind of development manager and simply wouldn’t shut up about his recent projects as they went through introductions. Elisha’s eyes were already glazing over after a few seconds even though her customer friendly smile stayed firmly in place.
“Would you look at that,” Maria interrupted, loudly enough to stop the meandering conversations. “If it isn’t our celebrity!”
Elisabeth Adams entered the room, pulling the door closed behind her. “What?”
Thomas had seen her throughout the years – not as often as his actual friends, of course, but they did have an understanding of sorts. He hadn’t had much of a choice, since Elisha and Adams had met and, weirdly enough, hit it off. She had gained some more scars since he’d last seen her. Her glare hadn’t changed a bit though.
“So how’s the new season going? I heard rumors they’re finally going to confirm ‘Mr Star’ is a demon, as if the entire world doesn’t already know that.”
“I can’t confirm or deny anything,” Adams said.
“You’re talking about Extreme Exorcisms? I love that show!” Brennan’s husband said. “The ghost hunting is exciting, of course, but the four of you are hilarious. How much of your conversations are scripted? Because sometimes the snark is just too good to be improvised.”
“Those idiots can’t even follow directions, let alone a script,” Adams growled. “You did see the episode with the radioactive amusement park, yes? ‘Meet us at the entrance.’ The entrance. There’s like, only one! But no, instead I need to go traipsing all over the park, stalked by a horde of dead children and a ghost that keeps trying to sell me candy floss, because the team members who actually know how to release ghosts can’t read directions worth their life and got stuck in a literal haunted house! How can Steve even get stuck? He can float through walls!”
“You need a drink,” Maria decided, handing another dubious concoction to Adams.
“And don’t get me started on ‘Mr Star’,” Adams said, taking the drink and sipping it without looking. “He was supposed to help me with the zombie children, not organise a sing-along for them!”
“It did work though,” Brennan said. “A three part harmony explodes zombies. Who knew?”
“No one knew, because who is crazy enough to try it in the first place?” Adams paused. Frowned at her glass, suspiciously. “What the hell am I drinking? And why does it change colour?”
Two figures popped up out of thin air in the center of the room. Thomas and Elisha shared a glance, way too used to Tyrone showing up like this.
“Hey guys!” Eduardo said, his hair standing on end and his clothes somewhat singed. “You won’t believe what happened to me today! Thanks for the lift Tyrone.”
“No problem.” Tyrone greeted them with a lazy wave and smile, which turned a tad sheepish when he saw how pale some of the guest were.
“So much for keeping a low profile,” Carver said. “Quick question, does everyone here know, or…?”
“Know what?” Watson’s husband asked. “And how did they just appear like that?”
“Magic, dear,” his wife said, patting his hand. “That’s Tyrone Evergreen. He does that.”
“He does that all the time,” Brennan muttered, to the clear confusion of his husband.
Thomas frowned at Eduardo. “What happened to you? Did you have an accident?”
“Little summoning mishap,” he grinned. “You’ve heard about that new runic language? Looks like chicken scratch. Literally! Half the office was on fire before we realised the artwork for the new Battlecraft expansion was to blame.”
“Fire imps?” Adams asked, in a tired voice.
“Fire imps,” Tyrone confirmed. “It was fun! You should’ve been there.”
“My eyebrows just grew back, Tyrone.”
“Now you mention those runes, I had this whole discussion about them with my coworker,” Carver said. “I’ve tried balancing my binding arrays with the new tau rune instead of Gladsheimr – it’s much quicker to draw - and it works like a dream, really, but she’s convinced it’s a weaker binding. Strange, you’re into research, right? What’s your professional opinion?”
“I’d have to see the full array, but tau is an interesting one,” Thomas pondered.
“Sketch it,” Adams said. “Improved binding circles could save a lot of lives, if you’re really on to something.”
“It’s not really meant for demons, though,” Carver said. “I work in security, safeguarding bank vaults and things like that against magic incursions. My bindings are more about keeping things out than keeping things in.”
“Now you mention it, I’ve had some mixed results with flipping circles inside out…” Thomas mused. “I expected it to be easier to turn a binding circle into a protective one, but the flow of energy is amazingly unpredictable.”
Tyrone grinned. “Flipping them inside out? You know, it’s rumoured that’s how the Organ Duck turned up. They say he used to be just an ordinary duck.”
“ ‘They?’ ” Elisha raised a brow.
Tyrone shrugged. “Demons gossip.”
“With you?”
A wolfish smile. “If I insist.”
“I don’t buy it,” Brad said. “You can’t turn anything into a demon, can you? Especially not a duck. I mean, if it was so easy, I’m sure some desperate soul would have tried it.”
“It does come with its disadvantages, you know.”
“Immortality and power? People do weirder things for less,” Brad argued. “Looking like the Organ Duck would be a disadvantage, I admit…”
“I would still love you if you were a horrible monstrous duck,” Rebecca said, and gave him a teasing kiss.
“Whatever,” Maria said, and slid another suspiciously foamy drink to Tyrone. “Let’s just be glad it’s the Organ Duck and not the Organ Goose, or you’d lose your title of most badass demon around, Tyrone.”
“Why? What’s wrong with geese?”
“… right,” Carver said. Poor guy, he wasn’t used to Thomas his friends’ particular branch of chaos. “So, Strange, if you are interested in my experimental tau based assay, do you have a work email I can have or something?”
Thomas perked up. “Of course, let me grab my phone for a sec.”
Elisha shook her head at him with a fond smile. “Only you would be excited at the thought of more work.”
“Why wait? We have time now,” Tyrone said. He gestured with his glass. “Come on, let’s see that circle then.”
Carver only hesitated a moment. Professional curiosity won. “Alright. Anyone have some chalk?”
Adams looked scandalised. “You mean you don’t? What kind of demonologist are you?”
“Formal dress doesn’t usually include a full summoning kit, Adams.”
“That’s what you think.”
They cleared a place in the center of the room and Carver started drawing, catching the attention of the others who hadn’t been following their discussion. Brennan was aghast. “These are hardwood floors! You’re going to ruin them.”
“It’ll be fine,” Tyrone waved away her concerns. “I’ll fix it up afterwards, no problem. For a small price of course.”
“You work in construction?” Watson’s husband asked, perking up.
Tyrone grinned. “Not really. Aside from some occasional demolitions.”
“He’s a fellow researcher,” Thomas said. “Come on, proofread this for us? You have a knack for binding circles.” Mostly for breaking them, of course, but still.
“I am amazing with binding circles. Let’s see…”
“Talking about a price, I wonder when we’ll get something to eat,” Maria said, from her chosen spot behind the bar. “Haven’t seen a single employee since we got here. No food, no bartender – we should have done this at my place, Brad.”
“It’s strange, true,” Brad admitted. “I gave very strict orders though. I’m sure someone will be along shortly.”
Most of Thomas’ attention was on the academic exercise Carver gave them – discussing the fine details of runic arrays with fellow experts was always a joy – but he did wonder. Maria had a point. For such a fancy restaurant, the service was really lacking…
----------
Phase One of the plan went without a hitch. The real employees were safely locked up in the wine cellar – some a bit worse for wear, but that was their own fault, Blue said. They shouldn’t have resisted so much. The boss had no patience for that.
Phase Two was also pretty easy. Locking the exits and herding the other guests to the private room was easy, when you were heavily armed and they weren’t. There weren’t many other guests, only around ten or so, but that was okay, robbing those was just supposed to be a bonus. The real prize was the policitian.
Phase Three, however, came with a surprise. They hadn’t been prepared for what they found in that private room.
“What the fuck,” said Green, staring at the creepy magic circle that took up most of the dance floor. “Those are hardwood floors.”
“Everyone inside!” snarled Blue, and shoved the lingering hostages through the doorway. “Red, Green, guard the door! Anyone moves without my say-so and I’ll put a hole through yer head, got it? Hands on the floor! Drop down, now!"
Green shook off the shock and hurried to do what Blue said. He went to stand guard at the door they just came through, his heart beating like crazy. This didn’t feel right. He was a newbie, sure, but he’d seen a few things in his time on the streets, and something here felt very Wrong.
Maybe it was the way their hostages reacted. The ones from the restaurant were subdued and afraid in the corner near the bar, but Hallman’s guests? At Blue’s violent entrance, the majority of them seemed to turn to one of the men fiddling with chalk near the circle.
Their leader maybe? Shit, what did they interrupt?
----------
"Hands on the floor! Drop down, now!"
Thomas dropped down without thinking, as did most of the guests. Two men, dressed in nondescript black, were waving around guns at the only exit of the room. They seemed a bit too wild-eyed for comfort. Three other gunmen were escorting a group of nicely-dressed people inside, and threatening them to sit down in the corner.
Thomas turned his head to give Tyrone a Look. He was mirrored by most of his fellow ex-classmates.
Tyrone sighed. “I can’t get one evening off, can I?”
“Shut up!” The loudest and tallest intruder gestured with his gun at the sketched circle on the floor. "What's this? You some kind of cult or something?"
Despite the danger they were in, Thomas couldn’t hold his tongue. "I'm so tired of people thinking everyone who works with demons is in a cult.”
“We hear it all the time,” Adams said, with a flat look at the leader.
Eddy risked a shaky grin. "To be fair, it does sound iffy if you call it 'working with demons'."
“Shut up I said!” Loud-And-Tall snarled. “Move back from that – whatever it is! Back to the wall, now! Which one of you is Hallman?”
Thomas had faced plenty of demons. At some point, the wires in his head had become crossed. The adrenaline was present, sure, but the main thought in his head was ‘Tyrone is here, he can easily deal with this.’ This thought was followed by a more alarmed: ‘Oh no. Tyrone is going to deal with this.’
“Listen, we don’t want this to turn bloody,” he tried, inching backwards over the floor while keeping his hands in the air. He was using his best calming-hysterical-students-during-finals-week voice. “For anyone.”
Loud-And-Tall ignored him. He was stalking past the people lined up at the wall, and pulled Brad up. “Congratulations on your election, Hallman. It’s time to pay for it.”
“Oh, come on!” That was Adams, who crouched on the floor less like ‘scared hostage’ and more like ‘ready to pounce’. She gave Tyrone a hard stare. “Stop playing! Would you finally disarm them? This isn’t funny!”
“Sure, like I can just snap my fingers and do that,” Tyrone said.
“If you fix this, Tyrone, I’ll let you come up with a new cocktail for my bar,” Maria offered.
“Full creative freedom? That is tempting…”
“Don’t reward him for being obnoxious, Dewitt.”
----------
This was going off the rails completely, and Green could only look on in confusion as their hostages started arguing amongst themselves. Blue wouldn’t like this. He wouldn’t like this at all.
As a rule, Green preferred to stay far away from magic, thanks. That chalk circle gave him the heebie-jeebies when he looked at it. Was this what the rich got up to behind closed doors?
Shit, they’d mentioned something about demons, hadn’t they?
Green kept a wary eye on the circle, and so he was the only one who saw the chalk lines move.
“Uh, boss?”
Blue wasn’t paying attention to him. “Goddamnit, I told you all to shut up!”
The bang was deafening. The bullet took out one of the fancy crystal chandeliers, which dropped down in a clatter of breaking glass and warping metal. It landed squarely between the chalk lines, damaging the hardwood floors even more.
Green swallowed. After this job he’d retire, he promised himself. Just get through tonight and he’d be done.
Blue shoved his gun in Hallman’s side, and the politician made a small, pained sound.
He immediately had the full attention of the hostages. Including the possible leader of this whatever-it-was, the one they called Tyrone, who fixed Blue with a sharp, steady glare.
“Finally,” Blue said, in the sudden quiet. “Now you’re all going to keep quiet while Purple makes the call. Got it?”
“Co-operate, and no one needs to get hurt,” Purple said, taking out a burner phone. “Green, go around with the zip ties. Yellow, fill up the bag.”
“Um, yeah, but boss, I think that circle just –“
“Tie ‘em up, now!”
Green swallowed his protests. He edged around the circle and tried not to step on the sharp shards of the chandelier while he went from hostage to hostage to tie up their wrists together.
“Car keys, jewellery, wallets, phones,” Yellow singsonged next to him, going round with the bag. “Hurry up, you haven’t got all night!”
Suddenly some of the hostages cried out in confusion. Green turned around in a hurry, heart pounding, and immediately noticed the chandelier was gone.
“Oh!” the lanky guy with the chalk-stained hands said, before the woman tied up next to him could shush him. “That’s how it works!”
----------
It was fascinating, really! The array was supposed to just keep things out of the circle, but there must be some odd interference between the new tau rune and the established sealing spell –
“What happened?” Loud-And-Tall said. Thomas didn’t like how he kept poking that gun in Brad’s stomach. “Where did that thing go? What the fuck are you playing at here!”
“Hey Maria,” Tyrone called out from his spot on the floor. “I’ll take that deal. Get ready for a cocktail with the finest of plastic dinosaurs.”
“I’ll call it the Alcor Special,” Maria grinned.
Loud-And-Tall frowned. “Alcor?“
Tyrone grinned, and all lights went out.
The sounds that pierced through the darkness were unsettling. Thomas cringed at the gunshots he could hear, and huddled close to Elisha. The screams, at least, didn’t sound like anyone he knew.
It only felt like a few seconds had passed before the lights turned back on, blinding Thomas for a moment. Tyrone stood next to the chalk circle with a somewhat bemused expression, Brad at his side and not a hair out of place.
There were several drag marks on the floor, all of them leading to the circle. The five hostage takers were nowhere to be seen.
No blood, either. That was odd. “I’m afraid to ask, but… what happened to them?”
“Circle took them. They must have stumbled between the lines in the dark.”
No one called him out for that blatant lie. Honestly, Thomas doubted the other hostages from the restaurant understood half of what had just happened.
“Stay calm everyone,” Brennan called out. “The police is most likely already on their way, but I’m calling this in anyway.”
“I’m fine,” Brad said, while the other hostages all looked around in confusion. “A bit bruised, but fine. Is anyone else hurt?”
“Only my pride,” Adams sighed. “I really need to look into an improved protection charm against normal bullets.”
“Is that even possible?”
“It already exists, but the current iteration is all so bulky and only provides limited coverage –“
Thomas turned to Elisha, and only when he was assured she was unharmed did he give in to his curiosity and crouch down at the edge of their improvised protection circle.
“So. That’s an odd reaction.”
“Looks like it works,” Tyrone said. “Sort of? Your protection circle keeps things out, at least.”
“Yeah, by sending them away.” Thomas inspected the lines. They looked different than when he drew them. Definitely interference between tau and the others. Lines moving by themselves were a big no-no in demonology arrays, for obvious reasons.
“Looks like a failed experiment,” Carver said. “Where do you think they were sent?”
“No clue,” Tyrone admitted. “I’ll track them down if I’ve got the time. You’re sure you’re all okay?”
“I think Brad’s the worst off, and he’s just got bruises. You could have acted a bit quicker, though.”
“Sorry. At least I mostly kept my cover?”
Sirens in the distance, getting closer. Those gunshots had been loud enough to draw some attention after all. There were several bullets lodged in the ceiling above the circle, oddly enough.
Thomas sighed. “How are we going to explain this to the police?”
As one, they looked at Brennan, who sputtered.
“You work for the police station,” Tyrone said. “Don’t you?”
“As their occult expert! How am I supposed to explain we accidentally vanished five criminals!?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
----------
Light, in the distance. A building. Some kind of bar. It was the only landmark they could see in this strange, endless place, so they had little choice. They limped towards it, weapons at the ready.
Wherever this place was, Blue was having a horrible night and he was going to make it everyone else’s problem.
He opened the door with a bang, loaded gun in hand, and froze.
The creature behind the bar glanced up.
“Alright,” it said. In the room, wings stirred and claws twitched. “Who ordered delivery?”
