Demon Squad 6 The Best of Enemies by Tim Marquitz Read Free Book Online Page A

a blast of energy into its guts. It shrieked as the bolt hit, rearing up. There was a series of bubbling pops as dozens of the bumps exploded, the air filling with a stink so vile it could only be rancid, rotten alien flesh or the latest scent by Christian Dior.
    The foulness stung my eyes, so I squeezed them shut while fighting the urge to spew. It tasted as if I’d licked the stink sack on a skunk. No time to be sensitive about my romantic proclivities, I forced myself to pay attention so I didn’t get smooshed. It was a good thing, too.
    Hundreds of sideways eyes stared at me from the remaining bumps on the creature’s stomach. They blinked of their own accord, Morse code on speed, flickers of bluish-black opening and closing, over and over and over. A low-pitched hum emanated from their frantic motion, bees in the bottom of a trash can. My eyes focused in on the sound and noticed there were teeth—tiny, razor thin slivers of teeth—arrayed on the multitudes of eyelids.
    Then they were on me.
      Much like the little roach thing Rala had summoned back in Hell, I realized this creature’s torso eyes were on stalks. Black tendrils burst from its belly, worms erupting from a volcano, and lashed out at me. Eyeball-teeth gnashed at me before I could react, my body peppered by the baseball thumps of the eye-mouths slamming into me.
    I screamed and staggered back in a crimson mist of my own blood, thousands of paper cut bites covering me from head to toe. My skin burned like I was a piece of wood shoved up in a termite orgy, with a dash of habanero thrown in for good measure. I swallowed hard against the pain and jumped back to avoid the flailing mass of biting eyes.
    That only put me in range of the thing’s face. Its jagged maw hurled down at me, and I barely managed to leap aside before it crashed into the asphalt. Great big chunks of street were ripped up behind me as I rolled and got back to my feet. I let off another blast of mystical energy and watched as it scorched the side of the beast, burning away a couple of the tiny arms and searing the skin black beneath.
    It swung its massive head about, its main eyes coming to rest on me as it lurched forward. I fired again and again, striking it full in its face, but it kept coming, roaring as its spaghetti tendril eye-teeth snapped at me. One last bolt of energy to its guts, which only managed to singe a couple stalks, made it clear I was pretty much fucked.
    I ducked aside as the monstrosity smashed downward, tearing apart the street where I’d just stood. Out of instinct more than anything else, I punched at one of the tendrils that whipped out at me. My hand sank into the bulbous eye as though I’d fisted a randy camel. Mucous and all sorts of fluids I wanted no part in identifying gushed over my wrist and spilled down my forearm in thick, cloying chunks. I yanked my hand free, flinging it out to the side, turning my head away to keep from splattering myself with any of it.
    While most of Daddy’s wisdom was lost on me, there was one piece of advice that held true. ‘Don’t put it in your mouth if you’re not willing to swallow.’
    I might be paraphrasing a bit, but the last damn thing I wanted was to taste any of that nasty gushiness. Fortunately, the creature reared back and put a couple feet of distance between us. It screamed and turned its wall of eyes my direction. The stalk that I’d damaged swung limp, tangled amongst the others. Brackish orange fluids poured from its ruined tip. I cast a furtive glance at the area I’d blasted with my magic only to realize how superficial the wound looked. While the eyes had retreated to the body, they were still visible beneath the blackened char. They blinked slowly but steadily.
    “Slug bug!”
    I leapt in and punched the thing again, choosing this time to hit it between a set of eyes. My fist sluiced through its rubbery flesh and sunk inside again. It was out and gone before the lash of tendrils could react. They