Fiction
The Masked Men
The demon checked his email to make sure he was at the right place.
Oh I hate going to these hick towns, he thought. He wished to get sent to the cities. There were far more people and more things to do.
But those gigs were left to the more senior demons. Until he had a few years under him, and a few corrupted souls under his belt, he was doomed to these little towns, dealing with oxycontin dealers and petty thieves.
Although, today should be different.
Word around the water cooler was something big was going down in this little town on the outskirts of nowhere and the demon was hoping that he’d maybe get a promotion afterwards.
He checked his reflection, tucked on the cuffs of his new shirt and fixed the lapels of his bespoke suit. This suit was a waste of money, he thought.
If I keep getting sent to these little towns I might as well get a set of camos. Oh well, dress for the job you want.
He entered the old community college building. It held classes during the day, but after hours it got used by all sorts of organizations from book clubs to support groups.
There was one group meeting here today and that was why the demon was here.
