The New Neighbor

Outside, the sound of traffic from Interstate 5, which ran behind the motel, was interrupted by the flapping of great wings as -

– Prosky hurriedly wrote the first name, Senvi, then -

– the first sound was joined by a second as two pairs of wings grew nearer, and -

– Robby whispered, 'They're coming,' as -

– Prosky wrote the second name, Sansanvi, and -

– a third sound joined in and all three drew closer as -

– Prosky wrote the third name, Semangelaf, and threw the door shut, turned both locks and dropped the wood to the floor.

It hit the carpet with a quiet thump.

He moved away from the door slowly, leaning against the wall for support, groaning painfully with each stabbing breath.

Robby stared at the door and backed away from it, until his legs hit the bed and he flopped down onto the edge, staring with his mouth open. 'D-do you, uh…you think -'

Scraping outside.

Claws scraping over pavement.

Low slobbering growls.

Prosky stiffened against the wall.

Thick oppressive silence, until -

– the scream.

It was the same scream they'd heard coming from the Pritchard house when Prosky wrote the three angels' names on the front door.

It stopped and, for about three seconds, there was silence, until -

– chips of wood exploded like shrapnel from the door as two black, three-fingered hands burst through effortlessly, curled their fingers, dug their curved claws into the wood like hooks and pulled.

The door was torn outward, ripping through the doorjamb and away from its hinges as if it were made of paper.

Prosky started to move away from the wall but the slicing pain in his ribs and his weak leg cut him down and he hit the floor hard, grunting, 'The headboard -'

The hands threw the broken door backward. It crashed into the side of the car, shattering the window on the passenger's side.

' – Robby, on the headboard -'

Robby crawled over the bed and pressed his back to the wall, curling into a ball.

' – the piece of wood on the headboard, Robby.' Prosky crawled toward the bed, shallow breaths wheezing in and out of his lungs.

The empty doorway was filled with silent darkness that seemed to move like spilled black paint.

'Put up the…the puh-piece of wood on…th-the headboard, Rob-Robby!' Prosky hissed.

The darkness swirled into a shape.

Robby looked at the headboard, saw a square piece of wood lying flat, leaned forward and tipped it up. Written in black on the piece of wood:

ADAM AND EVE BARRING LILITH

The shape solidified and moved slowly forward, like darkness peeling away from darkness.

'Lean it… against the wuh-wall, Rob -'

She burst into the room, her black scaled body glistening in the light, and stood over Prosky with her wings spread. The wings darkened the room, filled it with shadows. When she spoke, her voice was like a gorge being vomited from deep inside her:

'They're not like me, Prosky,” she said through a slobbering grin. “They're only demons. They don't give a fuck about three angels.” She bent down, swept him up and turned him to face her, holding him in the air for a moment by his shoulders. Then she hefted him effortlessly until he was lying across both of her large hands and -

– she snapped him like a twig.

The crack of bone was like a gunshot in the small room.

Robby felt sick and had stopped trying to control the convulsive shakes that were raging through his body. He tipped the piece of wood up and leaned it against the wall and curled up on the bed like a frightened child. He felt like a frightened child.

The Lorelle creature stepped over Prosky's body and came toward the bed, burning eyes locked on Robby.

He felt his insides shriveling. Why didn't she stop? Why wasn't it working?

Then she saw the piece of wood and stopped. Her black lips pulled back over her fangs and she exhaled a long, wet hiss as her wings folded over her back. She turned to him again and stared for a long time as she began to walk backward. Her lips curled into a hideous mutation of a grin. When she reached the doorway, she spoke.

'Come over later, Robby,' she said in her thick, distorted voice. Then, with a chuckle: 'I'll suck your cock.'

She was gone.

Robby stayed on the bed for a while, his whole body shaking so violently that the headboard rattled noisily against the wall.

People would be coming soon. They would want answers to their questions and they would expect Robby to provide them. He couldn't do that. Not yet. He needed help. He needed someone.

Robby got off the bed and went to Prosky's twisted body. There was no need to check for signs of life. He was bent backward at an impossible angle, mouth and eyes frozen open.

Robby's chest ached. It wasn't a physical pain – it was his fear and sudden feeling of isolation, of abandonment. Prosky had been his only ally, the only one who could help him save his family from her. Prosky's death felt to Robby like… his own.

What could he possibly do now? Surely anyone he talked to about a woman who was really a succubus and who had flying Malamutes would laugh at him at best, or try to have him put away at worst. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he had to do something. He needed transportation.

Kneeling beside Prosky, he shuddered as he reached down with an unsteady hand and pulled back a flap of the man’s coat until he found a pocket. He hesitated, then winced as he slipped his hand into the pocket.

He removed the car keys and got away from the body as quickly as possible.

Standing just inside the doorway, he peered out to see if either Lorelle or her pets were waiting for him, but saw nothing. With one glance back at Prosky, Robby headed for the car.

Claws clicked against pavement.

Robby swallowed his scream and broke into a run.

The door on the driver's side was wide open and Robby dove in, pulled it closed behind him and locked it.

Hell of a lotta good that'll do, he thought, looking at the glassless windshield and passenger-side window.

The keys jangled as he fumbled to find the right one, and his breaths were coming hard and fast as -

– claws screeched on the door and -

– Robby chose a key and slipped it into the ignition successfully as a small whimpering sound grew in his throat, and -

– a head popped up in the window beside him and -

– Robby screamed and threw himself down on the seat, arms over his head protectively.

Nothing happened.

He heard rapid-fire panting and lowered his arms cautiously. He looked up to see the dirty face of a scraggly- haired mutt grinning in at him, its pink tongue bobbing as it panted happily.

Robby heard himself giggle coldly as he started the car. The curious dog dropped away from the window and Robby drove away.

Steering was difficult because his hands and arms were shaking so much. The car jerked forward and slowed a few times at first as his foot jittered on the accelerator.