Demon Hunter

Chapter 30 - Death Sentence?

Because behind me was Artie, hot on my trail.

"Ray! Ray!" He repeated, breathing heavily. "Will you stop for a second?"

"OK, I stopped."

"Thanks—"

"Second over! Bye!"

"Wait! Please," he begged. 

Artie fell to his knees.

"What are you doing? Dear god, you're embarrassing yourself! Get up!"

"Can you just listen to me?"

"If you're asking me to stay, then you're insane, amigo."

"I won't ask you to stay! I just want to know...did you shoot my father?"

I took a large gulp of air.

I could just imagine how the scenario would go if I were to tell the truth.

"Yes. Yes Artie, I did."

"WHY, HOW DARE YOU, YOU VILE FIEND!" He would shout, pulling out his gun and firing multiple "bullets" in my direction, at all the non-vital areas of my gorgeous ultra sexy body.

Of course, the gun would be a toy...

Or an air gun...

"No." I lied. I did shoot his father and I don't regret it.

Maybe this will teach Emily a lesson not to mess with me. The freaking crazy bitch!

I wonder if it's wise to leave Artie's father alive...considering he might turn on others and maul them beyond recognition.

Hmm...not my problem.

I waited for Artie to continue.

"Well, OK...I believe you. I believe you didn't shoot my...father."

"I'm still not staying." I informed him, harshly.

"That's fine...because I'm not either."

"You're not?"

"Yeah! Honestly, I don't feel super comfortable living there. As strange as it sounds, I prefer my small house over that large mansion. Plus, it gives me the creeps! I feel like there's something dark and sinister going on in there!" He laughed, jokingly.

If you only knew...

"The Prince's can make a shack look like heaven compared to their manor."

"I agree!" Artie said, enthusiastically.

"Well...I guess you should head back and get your stuff?" Thank goodness nothing of mine entered that unholy demonic place. Because there's no way I'm going back and coming face to face with werewolf dad and monstrous mom.

"Yeah, I probably should..." he made a sour face.

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*Artie's P.O.V*

I packed the last of my clothing into my small sized suitcase.

I didn't tell Emily or Richie (short for Richard) about my departure. There was no need. I had planned to take off quietly without a word.

Scurrying down the stairs at an intense speed, I arrived at the entrance.

"Well," I said, turning around to look at the grand staircase in front of me, "goodbye."

"ARTIEEEEEEEE!" A familiar annoying voice screeched. "Artie, just where do you think you're going?"