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

grazed past me on the way back, the only thing hitting me was the disturbing realization of what it was gonna take to stop the creature since it seemed nearly immune to magic. I was gonna have to get medieval on its ass.
    My stomach roiled, and I let out a tired sigh as the thing shifted about on its squirmy frame and turned its pissy glare my way again. Its funk wasn’t making my head feel any better. It started forward without hesitation, giving me no opportunity to rethink my plan of action. Nothing to use as a weapon nearby, I decided to use the next best thing: my brain. Good thing it wasn’t sharp or I might have cut myself.
    The creature ducked low to snatch me up, and I waited until it was right on me. That was when I jumped straight into the air, letting its head swoop underneath. I came down on top of it and sunk my fingers in, grabbing gooey handfuls to stay in place. They held.
    Perhaps realizing what I intended, the monstrosity rolled, turning its top half toward the nearest building, looking to scrape me off on a wall. I didn’t give it time to get that close. A quick shift of my handholds and I was staring right into one of its coal black eyes. Lights glinted across its face, and I knew it could see me, but there was nothing it could do. T-Rex arms slashed open air, but they were too short to reach me.
    Before I could change my mind, I released one of my handholds and pulled my arm back as far as I could while clenching my fist.
    “This is gonna suck.”
    After a deep breath, I mustered every ounce of strength I had and punched the thing in the eye, throwing all my weight behind it for good measure.
    The eyeball split like a ripe melon as I buried my arm in it up to the biceps...
    …and then the monster went crazy.
    It thrashed, slamming into the ground. I lost my balance as the impact knocked my grip loose. Then it flung itself upward and gravity—cruel bitch that she is—took hold. Biceps turned to shoulder, to half my face, and then I was swimming in the creature’s eyeball, my thrashing feet inadvertently driving me deeper inside. The tauntaun scene from the Empire Strikes Back flashed through my skull, and I could only hope the thing smelled better on the inside than the outside.
    Fortunately, it did.
    Mouth and eyes squeezed tight, it was as if I’d been dumped into a sensory deprivation tank. I sloshed around inside its gelatinous head and kept pushing myself forward. No clue which direction I was headed, I hoped I hadn’t got turned around. With any luck, I’d burst out through its opposite eye and we could put this unfortunate moment in Frank history behind us.
    That wasn’t how it worked out.
    Only a few seconds into my journey, I slammed into something solid. It drove the breath out of my lungs, and I waged a war with instinct to keep from trying to draw in more. I won, but just barely. The last of my air bubbled against the trembling barrier of my lips. Not that it mattered much since whatever I’d hit had killed all my momentum. I was stuck.
    Over the years, I’ve had a ton of opportunities for fun and stupid epitaphs, but right then, I couldn’t think of shit. All I knew was that I didn’t want to die in the mushy skull of some deformed monstrosity. So, against my better judgment—as if that ever made a difference—I forced my eyelids open to see what I was caught on.
    It was a glimpse into Bill Cosby’s most elicit of dreams. Everything around me was shaded in orange, as though I’d been buried in a casket of Jell-O. Right in front of my face was a vaguely spherical shape that resembled a hunk of cauliflower with veiny tubes running from it in every direction.
    It didn’t take a genius to realize what I was wrapped about, which was a good thing because I didn’t have a genius with me.
    The thing I was hugging was the monster’s brain.
    I contemplated patting myself on the back, but my chest was growing tighter and tighter. There hadn’t been much air in my lungs before I