Fifi screams and the sound pierces my being. Damian also screams, but those are words I fail to understand.

"Why so scared, Bradley?" Shark Teeth coos. "Devil got your tongue as well as your soul?"

In a flurry of tiny red feet, Butch throws himself out of the safety of Fifi's purse and scurries across the ground to our assailants, pudgy fists up and ready for murder. Before he can do any damage, Shark Teeth grabs his tail and yanks him off the ground.

Carolyn, we have to move.

"Aw, you got yourself a little sidekick. Maybe I should cut him up and make an example. Show you what will happen to you and your girlfriend if you don't tell me what I need to know."

He takes a dagger out, very similar to the one I'm carrying, and brings it closer to the demon's struggling form. It's amazing how much he can move and wave his tiny fists around while hanging in midair. And all of a sudden, he pulls himself up by... maybe his tail muscles? Anyway, pulls himself up and sinks his needle-like fangs into the soul hunter's glove.

"Ouch!" 

Shark Teeth drops him and Butch runs for dear life under a nearby bush. That little guy is so brave, my heart fills with warmth and admiration.

"No matter, we'll cut your girlfriend then."

Fifi's shriek intensifies and my muscles unclench. No one is touching Fifi, and no one is bullying my tiny demon sidekick!

Now we're talking!

I hop off the motorcycle and pull out my dagger, lowering into a crouch. The smile slips off Shark Tooth's face. Behind me, I can tell his companion is getting ready to assault me, his footsteps bumping on the uneven sidewalk. Not sure how I can hear it over Fifi's screams, but I can.

I'll explain later. Now--

I take my helmet off and hurl it at Shark Teeth. It only phases him for one second, but it's enough for me to charge forward and plunge the dagger into his leather jacket, right above his heart, because I don't actually plan on killing anybody. Just wounding so that we can get away. He stares at me, his ungodly eyes wide, then grins. It makes his scar scrunch in a totally evil way.

With a twists, he pulls away, taking half of the blade with him. I stare at it. What the hell? Who made this? I'm totally filing a complaint.

If you'd just listen! That's for demons. It's crap against humans. You have a--

Gun, got it! I search my belt, but there's no holster, which I should totally know by now, but at this point I'm not above believing that things can magically appear.

You don't have a gun on you!

Behind me, Fifi grunts and I hear the heavy cursing of the other hunter. I lower myself into a crouch again and kick Shark Teeth's motorcycle from under him. This propels him a few feet away traps him under the vehicle. I love my super strength.

I take the time to turn to Fifi, but she's totally macing that other guy in the face, all the while screaming like death's got her. Which is not very far from the truth. Unfortunately this also invites a massive amount of pepper spray into her own airways.

"What the hell?"

I turn back to Shark Teeth who's trying to fight off the bush branch Butch is clobbering him with. For a moment, my brain freezes. Wow, these guys aren't too efective.

We don't actually do much fighting. We steal souls, not kill people.

This is ridiculous. "Fifi, toss me your purse," I call.

Still spraying mace all over the place and most likely inhaling half of it, she complies. I catch it all cool like in midair and grab her taser gun. With a cool turn, I face Shark Teeth again and shoot the high voltage charges right into his chest. He goes down shaking like a maniac which gives Butch the opportunity to use his branch of destruction on the other hunter.

Branch and mace are too much for him, so he goes down. I aim a good kick at him and send him flying.

"Get out of this neighborhood, you hoodlums!"

All the hubbub has caused the neighbors to peek out of their houses, and a bunch of them are packing real guns, not rubber daggers.

It's not rubber, just a very special alloy--

Who the hell cares, Damian? Shut up. Your weapons are useless. #gobacktoyourcorner

I have a shotgun under the seat of the motorcycle!

Why didn't you say so?

I was trying to.

"Let's get out of here," Butch mumbles, slashing the tires of the other two motorcycles before jumping into Fifi's discarded purse. "I don't like an audience."

Yeah, people really shouldn't see Butch. Maybe they just confused him for a dog until now. I grab the spray from my friend, since she's still wildly waving it around, her eyes red and puffy, put my helmet back on, and we get the eff out of there before someone caps our asses.

I'm sure those guys will get up in a few moments, but hopefully the flat tires will delay them for the time it takes us to get away. Except I have no idea where to go or what to do now. We found out where soul pieces go, but I'm still not sure how that translates when it comes to getting exceptionally sad over a movie.

Go back to my house. I need a new dagger.

"What do you need a new dagger for?" I mumble. "It's useless."

You're not the only one who can summon demons. And most are not the size of Butch.

Great. More complications. Can't we finish this without the dagger? But as much as I want to, I can't come up with somewhere else to go. I don't want to lead potential evil soul hunters to Fifi's apartment. So I suck it up and head back to the house up on rich hill.

Once we stop in front of it and I take my helmet off, I notice the strangeness of Fifi's silence. She should be gushing about this house. I turn to her and my breath hitches in my throat.

"Did we stop?" she asks, as if she has no senses outside of sight.

But I can't blame her for not acknowledging the house. Her eyes look like a swarm of bees stung both of them, and they're barely open. She forgot the essential lesson. Never spray mace upwind. I'm half sympathetic, half reproachful about the outcome of this. #torn

"Yes," I finally say. "Come on, let's get you inside."

I help her off the motorcycle and lead her into the house, down the hall and towards the living room. For a second, I linger outside the door leading to my body, but I don't dare go in there. Who knows what I might look like now, and it would only make me hate Damian more for all of this.

"Uuuh, this is pretty," Fifi says as I help her sit on the couch.

"Are you starting to see better?"

"No, but the light is really cool. And I have those squiggly lines in my vision. What do you think they are?"

I just leave her there because I have no time for this.

Call Desirée, Damian instructs, also having no time for this.

Even if it pains me, I do, my voice loud and powerful. I must admit I kind of like it. I sound really hot. Ugh, it's been a while since I fawned over Damian and I'm not going to start doing it again. Not after what he's done to me.

Understandable.

He should totally stop being reasonable. I'm fortunately spared more in-head conversation by the appearance of Desirée who comes down the stairs fortunately wearing skinny jeans and a crop top. How? How can she look so good in an outfit as simple as that? She's not even wearing any makeup and still she looks better than I ever did.

Eeeeh.

Are you insane? Your wife/girlfriend is the most beautiful creature walking this Earth.

She's not my wife/girlfriend. She's my sister.

Oh. Ooooh. His sister. And all of a sudden, I'm a little less mad because at least he wasn't making out with me in an illicit affair just to use my body.

No, I actually liked making out with you. You're a good kisser.

#hellyeahIam

"What happened?" Desirée asks once her goddess bare feet reach ground level. "Damn it, Damian, I told you to stop bringing women here. What's with this one? Still trying your stupid soul transfer idea?"

Hey, that idea totally worked! Carolyn, tell her!

"Hello!" Fifi turned her head in the complete opposite direction of Desirée. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Fifi. And you are?" The dislike in her tone is obvious as Fifi also probably believes that the sultry voice belongs to Damian's wife/girlfriend. I'm touched by her loyalty.

"Seriously," Desirée deadpans, "where'd you find this one? And what's with the eyes? Some new parlor trick?"

"Damian's not here," I finally say. "Okay, he is here, since his annoying voice won't shut up, but he's note... um, here."

Desirée looks at me and I swear she doesn't look surprised at all. "Ah. You must be the chick in the other room then. Carolyn was it?"

"How do you know that?"

She rolls her cerulean eyes. "You have ID in your purse. Nice purse by the way. And the dress is to die for."

"I know, right?" I can't believe we're bonding, but she's totally right.

"So my idiot brother got the plan right except he got stuck inside there instead of finishing the transfer into your body."

The thought of Damian inside my body is even more frightening than this, so I shudder.

Not true. I never wanted to possess your body. Tell her that!

"He says he never wanted to possess my body because he apparently has something to prove to you." 

Hey!

"I know," she says with another amused eye roll. "He couldn't get over the fact that I'm a better witch then he is."

I'm not a witch!

I ignore him because she's a lot more interesting."You're witch? Like in Wiccan?"

She makes a face. "No, like in potions and portals and stuff. I'm part of the Coven of the Brooklyn Witches. One of the best in the world." As she says this, she glances at Fifi's purse. "I see you brought a little guest."

I glance that way too and notice Butch digging himself deeper inside the handbag as if terrified of Desirée. I will admit she's a little intimidating, but nothing to be afraid of. I also glance at Fifi who's been so quiet for too long, but she's apparently on her phone, so it's understandable. I can't help but think that this is an inappropriate time to be on one's phone, but I keep that to myself because poor Fifi has been through enough.

"So, how's the devil's job going?" Desirée asks, drawing my attention from my friend who is typing away, her nose so close to the screen, it almost touches it.

"I can actually see pieces of soul and we found out that the devil lost a bit of his soul while watching Sweet November and now we have to find it because souls linger where the reason for their break from the rest of it is." I take in a deep breath. "I also broke my dagger and apparently need a new one."

Desirée just stares, her gorgeous eyes wide and her luscious lips slightly parted. "Wow. Just... Okay. I have a new dagger ready. Always have a spare after you... I mean Damian, broke his first one. What did you do? Try to sharpen a pencil?"

"Wow, those things are really useless."

She grins. "I make them that way. I don't want him hurting people by mistake. Plus, the weaker they are against any form of matter, the stronger they are against anti-matter, which is basically what demons are made of."

Butch whimpers and hides deeper inside the Prada bag.

Yeah, yeah. Ask her if she has any idea where we should go next. Who's responsible for a movie? Screen writer, director?

I see his point, but Damian is very bad at this. No one cares about the screen writers or the directors. It's the characters and their story who tug on heartstrings. "No, we should go to..." 

I bite my lip, trying to think like the Devil as I go through the key scenes of the movie. Satan would be anything but self-sacrificing, plus he's already a fallen angel, so he doesn't need to be a real one. Charlize is unfortunately off the table. What got to him was the impossibility of salvation.

"We should go to Keanu's house."

What?

"What?" Desirée echoes.

"Oh, yes, let's!" Fifi says, turning her eyes to me, and I'm happy to see that they're a little deflated now. "I bet that's where we'll find what we need."

"Why?" both Desirée and Damian ask.

"Because if something made Satan sad, it's that Keanu got his chance at redemption and took it. His sadness is not connected to Charlize dying, but to him being better for it," I explain, because it's so obvious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Desirée shakes her head and her golden hair cascades over her shoulders in a glorious wave. "But whatever. Why not? It's as stupid as the next stupid idea."

I grin and Fifi and she gives me the thumbs up. But then my spirit plummets because I've just encountered a huge logistic problem.

"Keanu lives in Hollywood Hills. It will take us forever to get there."

Desirée huffs. "Not if you have me. I'll portal you out there in no time. Just give me a few minutes. I need to sacrifice a small goat for the ritual."

"Um what?"

Yeah, she can make portals.

I'm actually more freaked out about the harm brought to the goat, but I need to get to Hollywood and get my body back, so this time I'll let it fly.

"Should also get you something for..." She waves her slender hand in Fifi's direction. "That. If I'm teleporting you to Hollywood, I'm sure you're going to want to see it."

"Yes please," Fifi says, her face all happy grins now.

"Also, you should leave the demon here. His kind are not welcomed there."

Most uncharacteristically, Butch doesn't protest, just whimpers louder and makes himself scarce inside the handbag.

I immediately agree then turn to grin at Fifi. She looks just as excited as me which is adorable, even with her bloated eyes.

We're going to Hollywood! We're going to Keanu's house!

All we need to do is wait for a witch to sacrifice a farm animal and create a portal that will get us there.

👸👸👸

Word count: 2506

Total word count: 19,643

I'm so close to the word count limit. I'm also a little sorry I wasn't able to finish the story within the limit because I'm not going to get judged on the ending. Pitty. I have something good in store for it.

But, alas, I have 400 more words to reveal whether Carolyn's supposition is right. I'm breaking all barriers of silliness with this one. And I'm not story! Stick around for the final 3 chapters.

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