The Miscreants of Xiphoid Camp [NOT UPDATING CURRENTLY]

» 2130 « Chapter 3 - A regrettable conversation

"Mr. Finch..." Marcus had begun, nervously, "...a demon? I don't understand. Why would a demon be anywhere near here? Something about the way Marcus had reacted to the mention of a demon was suspicious. Avior turned to face him, mouth agape.

"YOU know about the demons, too?!" he said accusatorily. "How do YOU know about the demons?"

Fred Finch sighed and hit himself in the baldest part of his head with the palm of his hand several times. "Well, Frederick John Finch, it appears you've gone and mucked it all up again," he muttered to himself. Avior and Marcus paid him no mind. Marcus's mouth opened and closed several times, and he looked rather like an astonished goldfish, which Avior did not hesitate to point out.

"You look like an astonished goldfish," he said matter-of-factly.

Marcus finally closed his mouth. "My parents told me," he said finally. "About the demons," he clarified.

Avior was not satisfied. "And how did THEY know?"

Marcus shrugged. "Their parents probably told them,"

"But how did THEY know?" Avior pressed.

"Their. Parents. Told. Them," Marcus grit out.

"And how did THEY—"

"That's quite enough!" Fred Finch interjected, a panicked expression on his face. He appeared to have lost control of the situation. He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I'll ex-explain everything, but you...you can't tell a soul I talked to you about—about, uh, this," he stammered. He was sweating profusely. Avior took a step back. Sweat was gross. He hated sweaty people. Marcus, on the other hand, leaned forward eagerly. It was peculiar, the way he didn't seem to mind the waterfall flowing down Fred Finch's forehead. He seemed to be somewhat touched in the head. Fred Finch sighed for the third time. He sat down heavily in the high-backed chair behind the desk. "Sit, sit," he said.

"I'll stand," Avior said, crossing his arms. He didn't trust the disgusting chairs set on his and Marcus's side of the desk. Who knew what horrifying substances had been absorbed by the maroon fabric? Marcus, however, had no such reservations, sinking into his chair like he wanted to catch a disease. Definitely mad, that one.

"I take it you both already know about the demons, then," Fred Finch leaned forward and planted his elbows firmly on the desk.

Avior nodded, and Marcus said "yup," quietly.

Fred Finch's eyes darted between the two, as if he wasn't sure which one to look at. He finally settled on a spot somewhere between them. "Good, good," he said distractedly. "That makes things easier." He rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath. "We'll start from the beginning," Clearing his throat, he started, "a long time ago, strange, disturbing things started happening, and nobody knew what was the cause of it. That is, until—"

"What KIND of strange and disturbing things?" Avior interrupted excitedly.

Fred Finch looked taken aback. "Oh, well, you know, just your standard creepy horror movie-type stuff,"

Avior was dissatisfied by this answer. "Yeah, but which KIND of horror movie? Slasher? Paranormal? FOUND FOOTAGE?" He liked horror movies. They were his secret vice, something he watched when his parents went out of town or late at night with the volume way down. If he was being totally honest—which he almost never was—he was hopeful that the exposure to horror movies would make him braver in real life.

"Uh, well, the last one?" Fred Finch said nervously. His respect for Avior was getting steadily lower. Good. Avior didn't like him. He did not pry any further. Was he really so difficult to deal with if all it took to shut him up was a straightforward answer? "A-anyway," Fred Finch continued, "enough weird things happened that it eventually became a worldwide phenomenon, and the more that people got involved, the worse it got,"