"Speak."
"This is Bal," the old man spoke through the annoyingly small
phone the young woman had given him. "Things have really
gone to shit around here in the last 24 hours. I'm up to my ass in
demons and it's only going to get worse."
"Calm down, Bal. What exactly happened?"
Bal looked over his shoulder to see if the girl was coming back.
He didn't want her to overhear. "It's the curse."
He heard an audible sigh.
"I fought one of them several hours ago. She injured me and
some young little turd made off with my sword."
"She? So it's a she, is it?"
Bal didn't like the tone he was getting. "I'm not making this up."
"Bal, the curse you've been watching over lost its power
centuries ago. We've tested it. Your theory that it's self-aware has
never been proven. It's not hiding. It's not waiting to spring a
trap."
"Well, what the hell attacked me then?" Bal spat.
"Whatever it was, I doubt it was a demon. Our monks would have
detected a rift between the dimensions. Not even an imp can slip
through without our knowing."
"That's because the curse is turning people into demons. I'm
telling you, she had all the characteristics of a warrior demon.
They're not crossing over, they're recreating the world! Some
stupid little ass unleashed it and now it's out of control!" Bal
pleaded.
"Bal. I need you to listen carefully. Remember the Asmodeus
incident?"
Bal felt his heart sink. "It's nothing like that. You've got to believe
me."
"You mistook a Pagan nature ritual for a demonic gateway. How
many people died from that bad call? We gave you your current
assignment to keep you out of trouble. The alternative would
have been stripping you of your knighthood and bringing you
before a tribunal. For your own sake, Bal, let this one go."
"I'm telling you, you're making a huge mistake!" Bal protested,
but the call had already ended.
He lowered the phone from his ear, failure weighing heavily on
his spirit.
From inside he heard the young woman shout, "Vicki! What's the
matter with you?"