Free Fury From Hell by Rochelle Campbell Page A

essence ebbed away in the darkness of the night.  Abatu greedily devoured the man’s entrails but left his genitals untouched. Satiation was a potent drug and the demon’s laughter came out in gurgles as the blood oozed between its needle-pointed teeth.  It slid down the host’s elongated jaw and dripped onto the light grey fur covering Abatu’s upper body.
    Peering around with eyes that could see in the dark as well as any feline, Abatu’s almost silent attack seemed to have gone unnoticed by any nearby humans.  Fury Abatu made Jennifer stand upright and walk away with an air of nonchalance.  As the demon put distance between itself and the body, Abatu made the host wipe away the telltale signs of the murder.  The Fury made Jennifer wipe the blood off of her morphing face and hands.  There was not much that could be done about the torn shirt and the bits of coagulated blood from the small flesh wound across Jennifer’s stomach and right thigh.  However, the darkness made the blood specks less noticeable to the few that the demon-infested human passed on its way home.
    Abatu knew what to do with the damaged clothing.  As soon as it got the host indoors, it would make sure that there would be no trace of blood left. Checking on the host’s spirit, Abatu saw Jennifer was sleeping soundly far in the background.  Smiling its disarming, chilling, smile, the Fury was pleased that the host did not know she had just killed a man.
    ***
    Friday, November 9 th , Midday
    Something was buzzing incessantly.  Jennifer groaned and swatted around her ears.  Coming out of a thick bilious slumber, Jennifer couldn’t fathom how a fly or mosquito got into her apartment in early November.  The buzzing continued and the ineffectual swatting brought Jennifer up out of her sleep drunk mind and body.  She bolted upright when she realized it was her landline phone.  She leaned over and grabbed it.
    “Yeah?!”
    “My, don’t you sound fetching.”
    Jennifer flopped back onto her fluffy stomach sleeper pillows before responding.
    What is it, Feinster?”
    “So much for getting a text when you got home last night or, was it this morning?  Was he that good?”
    “What are you talking — oh, you mean Chad.  We said goodnight right near the bar.  I didn’t even let him see me home.”
    “Why?  What the hell is wrong with you?”
    “I take offense at that.  Why does something have to be wrong with me because I didn’t jump into his bed the first night I laid eyes on him?”
    “Because you haven’t been laid in all the years I’ve known you.  You must be clamped so tight that the next time might kill you.  That’s why.”
    Jennifer snorted and some of her ire dissipated only to usher in the beginnings of a pounding headache.  She immediately groaned and put her free hand to her forehead.
    “Uh-huh.  That hangover’s kicking in.  You do know its 12:30 right?”
    “As in P.M.?”
    “Always thought you were a sharp cookie…”
    “I slept all day?”
    “Apparently.  And what’s worse…by yourself.”
    Jennifer sat up and looked around searching for the outfit from the night before.  She racked her brain but had no recollection of getting home.  She remembered the pleasant good-bye she shared with Chad and her walking off…but nothing else until her phone started ringing this morning.  Her outfit was nowhere to be seen.
    “What was I wearing last night?”
    “Damn, the Bomb and the Hurricanes did you in!  Oh yeah, and the Lynchburg Lemonade.  Chick, you were downing them left and right —”
    “Feinster.  Clothing.  Focus.” 
    Betty sighed.
    “Jeans, ripped white-T, cute boots and a bolero-style denim jacket oh, yeah, and hot smoky eye make-up done by Babs.  Why?  You came home naked?”  Jennifer could practically hear the leer through the phone.
    “Me?  I wore make-up?”
    Jennifer flung the light comforter back and hopped out of bed wincing as the movement made her head and right thigh