The Demon Hour

CW: References to violence and gore

The clock struck three in the A.M. as the veil between worlds began to thin. The beast pressed its fingers into the meta-versal membrane and pushed through to the other side. As it entered, the veil was sewn back together my unseen hands.

The beast now stood in the material world, free to roam, free to live... free to feed.

The wet earth beneath its cloven feet sunk with each step. How strange, it thought. In its world, the ground was layered in eons of magma and cooled rivers of flame, giving no purchase. Here, on the other side of the veil, the beast felt it could practically swim through the soil.

What did the humans call this? A Felled? A Fold? The beast rattled its brain.

A Field! Yes! The beast was ecstatic with itself. It had long watched through the membrane at the material world in action: Small humans chasing each other to devour the slow and weak; larger humans walking the perimeter with their hunting quadrupeds; other humans lounging on the soil after a battle with a coveted, brown spheroid. This world was fascinating to the beast.

Finally, it arrived to its intended destination: the feeding grounds. There, through the mist of the early morn, stood an angry human, pacing back and forth. The human was unaware of the otherworldly eyes watching him.

"Christ's sake... were is he?" muttered the angry human. He scratched vigorously behind his ear. "2 A.M. 2 A.M. Gerry was supposed to be here by 2 A.M. Where is he? Where is he?"

Suddenly, the angry man grabbed the garbage can beside him and pulled it to the ground with an echoing thud. The contents spilled all over the cement walkway. As it did, the angry fellow kicked a can of pop into the mist.

"Geeeerrrrrrrry!!!!!" the man bellowed into the emptiness. He plunked down on one of the benches and began to crush the spilled refuse into the cement with his feet. The effort was oddly satisfying.

The man stretched his legs and feet to roll more soiled items into his reach. Smash! Crunch! Thunk! Even the sounds were gratifying! He began to map out his next victims: a coffee cup; a half-full bag of chips; and-- wait... wasn't there a hot dog somewhere???

The man scanned the compostable battlefield for the errant meat tube. It was next to that wad of napkins, right? Maybe it rolled out of sight, thought the man. He rose from the bench and began his search, crushing his targets on the way.

I remember it was next to the can --CRUNCH!-- left of the old pizza slice --THINCH! --maybe a rat grabbed it? --SMASH!

The man stood in the pile of garbage and listened intently to the still of the night. His ears perused the park for any sound of his hot dog.

Chomp...... chomp..... chomp.... slow chewing... that must be the culprit! The man barreled toward the unseen mastication. "Hahaha!!! I'm gunna get ya!!!"

The beast watched as the angry man came headlong at it; its own mouth filled with delicious, material-world, flesh-stick. The ground was too soft for quick maneuvers-- there was no time to move.

The angry man and the beast came face to face. The beast, crotched down to devour its tubular feast, now stood up, towering over the man. He gazed at the creature: its dark black fur, goat face, spiraling antlers, and burning crimson eyes. The man felt a wet splash at the back of his pants.

The beast stared down at the human, watching him. It did not know what to do. On the other side of the veil, stealing of food is grounds for a battle to the death. Then again, everything on the other side is grounds for a battle to the death.

What were the rules in this world? the beast wondered. The human was ferocious but did not appear formidable. Then again, this was the human's turf, a home-world advantage. Maybe the human could manipulate this world's elements to its benefit. It already proved to be faster on this soft soil than the beast.

The angry man could not feel his garbage-splattered legs. Was this real? his thoughts raced. Is this some kind of fugue-like-state? Did I go crazy waiting for Gerry? Are my last words going to be: "I'm gunna get ya?"???

"Jose!!!" screeched a whiny voice. "Where are you?!!!"

Jose instinctively turned to the sound behind him. As he did, he anticipated the beast plunging its claws into his gut, spilling out his organs onto the cement walkway like garbage. He clinched his eyes tight and waited for the disembowelment. And waited.... And waited.

"There you are!" Jose jumped into the air and fell hard on the ground beside his friend. "Jesus! what the fuck happened here?" Gerry sniffed the air. "Did you shit yourself?"

On the other side of the park, leaving a trail of hoof prints in its wake was the beast. It pressed its fingers into the membrane between worlds, and entered the ethereal wasteland of demons.

Fire spurted from every mountaintop, as estuaries of lava pooled beneath. The beast looked back at the material world. An unseen seamstress sealed the veil once again.

"Dyo'seh!" summoned a voice. "Where have you been?!"

The beast spun around to see the veil-guard approach him. They had suckled at the same teat as pups, but Dje'ryeh was more far ambitious than the beast.

"Answer me! Where have you been, Dyo'seh?!" The beast knew that a veil-guard did not need to repeat itself. This was a courtesy. Dyo'seh knew to take it.

"Honorable Dje'ryeh! I will not lie: I crossed through to the other side."

The guard was shocked and angered. "Why?! Under whose authority?!"

"None," replied the beast. "I went there on my own volition."

"Fool! you bloody fool!" screamed Dje'Ryeh. Both knew the price for such as an offense. "How could you?!"

The beast spoke softly. "I did not think you would be the one to catch me."

The guard was silent. And then, with a clump of its hoof, turned around and walked away. "And I did not, brother."

The beast smiled as the two walked away from the veil. The ground beneath it's feet was now hard and unforgiving. But, Dyo'seh realized that it did not need to be. Maybe, its journey to the other side was to prove that very fact. And maybe some of the material world had followed it in, and would remain here. In any case... the beast thought, the meat-sticks were worth it.