The Hallway

By Emilio King

“Were you at Rankthor’s party yesterday?” 

Two demons are seated on the floor. They’re each across from one another, on opposite sides of a plain wooden door. They both have beat-up guns next to them. One demon is passing time by smoking a cigarette. They’re there to guard whatever’s behind the door. 

The second demon removes the cigarette it has from its mouth and, with a puff of smoke, replies, “What? No? I was asleep.” 

“Sleep? Man, who needs that? Just go see Barb. I think she still has some medkits from last time.” 

The second demon tilts their head. 

“Barb like Barbara, or Barb like that asshole covered in wire.” 

The first demon nods, “Wire.” 

“Mm.” The second one grimaces. 

The two sit in silence. One of the demons sniffs. There’s nothing new in the air. The occasional bit of ash floats through the hall, carried by the heat of the land. The room smells like sulfur. 

Everything smells like sulfur. This is hell. 

The first demon perks up, “So do you have another dart or— What the fuck?” 

The demon scrambles to his feet, grabbing his gun on his way up. The second demon whips their head around. They gasp before diving for the gun. The two of them aim down the hallway, barrels steadying on some guy walking towards them. 

The guy stops once the guns are trained at him. 

The guy’s covered in blue metal armor. Head to toe, he’s covered in scratches, dents, and other blemishes. The front of his armor is caked in reddish-brown dirt. It’s dry now, but the dirt is clearly mixed in with a thicker, black substance that's starting to flake off. There are thick “scars” and cracks around the person’s helmet. Most of the damage has been filled in with minor repairs, but there’s one large hole in the forehead. 

He’s holding a shotgun loosely in one hand.

“Wh-who the fuck are you?” 

He doesn’t respond. The guy lifts the shotgun up, and cocks it. A single empty shell flies out and spins through the air. The second demon watches it from the floor. They’re trying with all their might to remember any single thing from their instructions on guarding this place. 

There’s a pin drop clink as the shell hits the floor. 

Instinct takes over. The second demon white knuckles their gun, squeezing the trigger. Bang! Click. Bang! Bullet after bullet flies through the hall. Most of them whiz by the guy and spin out before reaching the end of the hall. A few of them bounce off the guy’s armor. It doesn’t faze him. The guy peeks into his gun. There’s one shell left. He nods and starts to walk forward. 

The first demon hasn’t moved. He gulps. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. He can’t even shake. 

More bullets. Click-Bang! Click-Bang! They beat into and ricochet against the guy’s armor, finally leaving visible dents. As he gets closer to the demons, the dents get deeper. It starts with one small crack.Then another and one more. With every shot, they get deeper and larger until they’re riding up on each other and forming one long crack in the guy’s chestplate. 

Click-! 

Click-click! 

The second demon looks up. They try to meet the guy’s eyes. Nothing but their own knowing reflection in his visor meets their gaze. 

“Okay, but, like, hear me ou—!” The second demon is cut off. Their words are lost as the hinge of their jaw is dislodged against the guy’s fist. The black ichor that fills their veins spreads across the floor. The second demon crumples to the ground. The guy’s head snaps up as he looks toward the first demon. In a swift motion, he readies the shotgun at the demon. 

“S-shit!” 

The demon, like the second one, tries to fill the guy with lead. Bang! Cli- Bang! Cli Bang! He’s careful to aim for the crack in the armor the other demon had started. Bang! Cli Bang! But the guy’s too fast. He shoves up on the barrel of the demon’s gun. Bullets shoot out in a line across the ceiling. The first demon glares into the guy’s visor as he lets off the trigger. 

The guy shifts his grip on the shotgun so he could hold up a finger. He wags it in front of the demon’s face.

The first demon shakes with rage. He yanks on his gun, trying to escape the guy’s grasp. He whips about, flailing, and even tries biting at the guy. 

But the guy stands up, ignoring the demon’s efforts. In a swift motion he kicks the demon’s legs out from under him. The guy punches him to the ground, something crocking as his back impacts with the floor. The force yanks the gun out of the demon's hands in the process. 

“Nonono! You—!” 

Bang! 

One clean shot through the skull. 

The guy sighs, looking over the body. He takes a breath before moving on to the door. Click. Crrrreak. 

Glancing around the room, he sees nothing but a horde of stolen riches. 

“Shit. Wrong one,” he sighs, closing the door.