"Atropos?" I repeat. "That's...that's Greek, right? One of the Fates?"

"I thought it was a Fury," says Nikki.

"Abbie's got it right," says Joe. Nikki shrinks, looking embarrassed. Joe then clears his throat and continues, "She's the one responsible for determining when it's your time to die."

I peek around the side of the house again, wishing that hellhound could just shoo already before we have to deal with it. I'm pretty sure we'll have to deal with it sooner rather than later, but that's still extremely low priority on my to-do list. "Death, huh?" I say. "I thought that was Thanatos or whatever."

"No, no, Thanatos is just the god of death," Nikki whispers. "I guess he's just too much of a lazy ass to take care of it all himself."

The hellhound looks up, as if it heard her insulting...wait, is Thanatos, if he exists, even its master? If so, it's probably supremely offended on his behalf right about now.

Nikki looks ready to back down from her words, but I poke my head around the corner long enough to see the hellhound coming this way, sniffing the ground loudly. "No, keep it up," I tell her. "It knows you're making a mockery of death itself. Go on."

Joe stares at me. "Are you out of your mind? Abbie-"

"I have an idea for how to stop this doggie," I say. The sniffing stops - the hellhound must be listening hard.

"Humanely, I hope?"

"Probably not," I admit, "but considering it'd probably cut us up the first chance it got...'cause it's totally not compensating for something, am I right or am I right?" Sniff, sniff. "Hmm. Must be a she-hound. Nobody try and kick her in the balls, okay?" All quiet on the hellhound front. "What? I wasn't even trying to insult her on that one...but whatever. Nikki, you got any verbal ammo left?"

This has got to be one of the most cuckoo-bananas horrors I've ever encountered in my days as a Witness. A silent hellhound that scares you with subtle reactions to teasing? Who comes up with this crap? Thanatos has a lot to answer for, I guess. Especially a sick, twisted sense of humor, which may not even count as humor by human standards. Gods are just that much different from us, I guess. So bizarre.

Nikki snaps her fingers, then hisses, "Hey assbutt! You don't scare me - I've met a crossroads demon!"

I can't help but roll my eyes at how bad that is, but she probably has little to no experience working under pressure anyway. Even the hellhound snorts at it and turns away. I, however, have a great idea in mind, one that Ichabod once used on an unsuspecting baseball umpire while learning the fine art of trash talking. "Hey! Basket-face!" I yell. "I thought only horses slept standing up!"

Oh, that does it, all right. The hellhound spins around and runs after me. I order Joe and Nikki to take cover, then lead the hound on a merry dance around the cabin. Two complete circuits around the perimeter. After the second lap, I dart back into the house, where the others are busy rooting through my silverware drawer for knives. But I've got another plan. I heft the pot of stone soup out of the fire, then fling it at the hellhound, splashing it right in the face. Immediately, the hot soup dissolves the hound's skull, sizzling on contact with its pelt. Joe and Nikki cry out in shock at the sight, both dropping the knives they've got in hand. As for me, I just hold my nose against the smell of mingled soup and ichor and other assorted cranial entrails.

"How the hell...?" Joe asks, but his voice trails off.

Nikki, meanwhile, sniffs the air. "Ugh...is that...no. I thought that stuff only worked on vampires."

I laugh as the hound sinks to the ground, dead. "If so, why do vampires live in this place? Garlic is so plentiful around here."

Joe snickers. "Remind me not to kiss you, huh, Abbie?"

"Consider yourself reminded," I say. "Now that you guys have all my knives on display, why don't we take one or two each? They're the only weapon we've got for now, so we might as well get all the mileage we can out of them."

Two minutes later, once I'm satisfied we're safe and sound and free of hellhounds, I lead the way beyond the bounds of the cabin, a knife in each hand. Now's the time for me to start humming songs from Into The Woods. We're finally getting somewhere...I hope.