The living survive the undead.

Chapter 3 - Marxihr

SLAM

Ryder bolted upright. Looking around he remembered he was still in his living room. "Caleb?" No response. "Robin?" His stomach began to knot. "Dennie?" No one answered. Getting up from the sofa, Ryder strode into the kitchen and noticed a slip of paper under his glasses. "So you left me a note...Thank you Caleb." The note read, 'Ryder, Robin and Dennie are suspicious of your motives and don't trust you as much as I do. By the time you read this we will be gone. If the slam of the door woke you up, I slammed it. Sorry', the smile on Ryder's face slowly faded as he read on, 'We are going to the East side of the city by the abandoned factory. If you leave now you could catch us up. I don't want you to be alone or eaten by the hoards as you were so kind to us. I would like to talk to you more about demon summoning and get to know you more so if you decide to follow us please do. Your friend Caleb.'

As quickly as he could, Ryder packed everything he would need into a backpack. Pistol, check. Baseball Bat, check. Three medical kits and pocket knife, check and check. Cigarettes, check. Lighter, check. Flash light, check. Whistle, check. Blankets, check. Spell book, check. Tear gas, check. Mobile phone, check. Finally radio system, check. Pulling on a couple more layers and his back pack, Ryder made his way out only to bump into someone. His face millimetres from the floor and the strangers grip on his wrist, Ryder knew that this was no stranger. "Why in a rush kid?" The being above him said, pulling Ryder up. "What do you want Marxihr?" The half demon's voice was stern.

"I want to make another deal." Marxihr's smile grew un-naturally wide.

"I don't have time for this okay. Talk about your stupid deal later." Ryder tried to push past but the demons tail stopped him. "Oh but this isn't a stupid de-!" Marxihr received a punch to the jaw, the sound of his jaw breaking echoed throughout the cluttered hallway. Seeing his opportunity, Ryder shoved past dashing down the stairs and continuing to the factory. "That fucking half-blood had to be the son a Satan didn't he!" Marxihr said to himself, re-aliening his jaw. The clicking and cracking again echoed the halls. "Well if that's how he's going to play. I can play that game too." With a puff of black smoke, Marxihr was gone and left only a pile of black shoot where he was standing.