3. CHAPTER #3
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Indy tapped his nails. “Hey, uh, Gammy?”
“Yes, sweetie?” Gammy was right beside him.
“Whatever you’re going to do, how about we hurry it up?”
“What’s wrong? Mr. Kalt is here, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, but he’s an asshole, and him and that other asshole demon just killed the hench guy of the other other asshole demon who’s a mafia boss and kidnapped me earlier, and now they’re trying to kill hench guy number two!”
“Huh?”
“This is already bad, but it’s probably gonna get worse.”
“Come on!” Gammy grabbed Indy’s arm, her touch only a whisper but urgent. “Step right there!” She pointed down at the circle.
“The one that looks like two dicks?”
“What? It does not!” Gammy gasped. “Oh, it does, hmm?”
Indy stepped on the two dicks symbol, and the whole circle immediately lit up.
The lint Indy had set on the chair grew exponentially, morphing into a giant blob that towered over him. It took shape in seconds, and it was…
A bunny.
A giant lint bunny with two pennies for eyes.
Gammy beamed. “Hello! I’m going to name you Sir Reginald Fluffington the Third. Now, be a dear and guard my sweetie here, all right? Anyone tries to hurt him, you bite his head off.”
The bunny smiled, revealing a mouthful of sharp copper teeth.
“What the hell did you do?” Indy stared.
“I made a dust bunny golem!” Gammy scoffed as if it was obvious.
“But it was lint, not dust.”
“Well, dust bunny sounds cuter.”
Underwood, Mr. Mitternatcht, and Mr. Kalt continued to battle, but it was obvious Underwood was slowing down. He was missing an arm, but he acted as if he didn’t even feel the lost limb, and it was honestly impressive he’d lasted this long. Chances were his time was almost up though.
Mr. Kalt stepped away from the fight as if Underwood was no longer worthy of the effort, and his attention was drawn back to the closet and the giant lint bunny. “Indigo! What the fuck is that?”
Indy quickly ducked behind the bunny, blinking when Gammy joined him. “What are you doing? You’re already dead!”
Gammy huffed. “I’m being supportive!”
“We both know I can just summon you over here if I want to,” Mr. Kalt called out, strolling back toward the closet. “You’re mine. I own you, remember? So, quit the silly games and come here. Now.”
“I’ll take that’s not fucking happening for two hundred, Alex.” Indy tapped his left thumb against his left middle finger. Inside was a fragment of a sacred holy relic that would certainly give Mr. Kalt a bad day.
Indy didn’t think he could actually harm Mr. Kalt. The demon still had his soul, and he could simply order Indy not to lay a finger on him. Indy was fucked. He was absolutely and royally fucked because his crazy boss who was already a pretty bad guy was apparently working for the really bad guys.
Indy wondered what the hell Dill was doing right now because the whole having a magical ring thing was damn useless when there was no obvious way to make it work.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Underwood screamed. He was on the ground in a bloody heap, meaning both he and Tanze were down and there was nothing standing between Indy and some asshole demons except a ghost, a stupid ring, and a giant lint bunny.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Oh, wow,” a deep voice purred, chuckling. “Looks like the party got started without us.”
Indy didn’t have to look to recognize who it was—Azazel.
He was another demon who worked under Mr. Heiss and a former client.
As a human, he was tall, athletic, and had hair as red as an apple, and he also loved having his balls sucked on.
As a demon, the ball thing was still true, but his skin was green and he resembled a young Ganon from Legend of Zelda.
But, like, one of the sexy ones.
He wasn’t alone either.
Mr. Heiss was here.
“Azazel. Kill Mr. Mitternatcht,” Mr. Heiss ordered, his voice trembling with rage he could barely contain. “I’ll take care of Mr. Kalt.”
“With pleasure,” Azazel replied.
“Oh, look at that!” King hollered out from wherever he was. “The little bitch ran! Ha!”
“Go after him,” Mr. Heiss shouted. “Find him!”
Indy peeked out to confirm that Azazel and Mr. Mitternatcht were indeed both gone, so it was only Mr. Heiss and Mr. Kalt here now. There was still no sign of Floppy Ears or any of the other monsters, so Indy was going to take this as a win.
Mr. Kalt blocked the doorway, bowed up as he snarled, “You’re not going to take this from me, you selfish self-serving prick.”
“Traitor,” Mr. Heiss snarled right back with disgust. “You betrayed the family? Me? And for what? What did they promise you? The moon?”
“More than you ever did!” Mr. Kalt’s shoulders bulged. “I never have to listen to your bullshit ever again. Don’t you get it? I’m taking your clubs, your money, your fucking everything. I’m going to get it all. Fuck you, fuck the Mostros, and fuck—”
Something hot and wet hit Indy’s face.
Mr. Kalt stopped talking.
Mr. Kalt had stopped talking because he no longer had a head as Mr. Heiss had torn it right off like picking a flower.
Indy touched his cheek.
Ah, so that was blood.
Great.