Demons

Chapter 11- Glass Figurines

Just a note, I changed the format a bit... If it doesn't please you tell me

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Jack's POV-

There was a sudden jerking halt that sent a pile equipment tumbling on top of me and I jolted awake, shrugging off the equipment as I did so. The one electric blue eye still in good use taking awhile to take in the surroundings. Blood clumped the fur to my sides and ugly wounds marred my sides. A piece of green, stretchy fabric clung to the serrated edges of my spiral horn. I pawed it off and brought in my wings closer to my sides.

               Where am I again?

The memory of the black van came pulsing back, about the wire cage, ramming it open and jumping into the back of a white truck. The truck in question lurched and the slamming of door was heard followed by another. Voices floated through from the air.

"Hey, man, I didn't know nothin' bout that." A male voice chuckled.

"Sure, you didn't, you owe me a new set of car keys." The second voice said with an obvious sneer. They both had a country accent.

                Damnit!

I crept to the tear in the tarp for a quick getaway, until the second voice said. "Go check in the back for a Jerrycan, we're almost out of fuel, and I want to get to that damn town on time. Boss don't want us late."

"Cell reception out here on these boxes sucks, GPS won't work for a damn." The first man grumbled. The crunch of dirt underfoot got louder as he got closer and I tried to think of a plan.

                    Any help would be useful?!

"Yea, Dan it's almost like you out in the middle of nowhere! Oh wait, my bad you are." The man who was unnecessarily distraught about his keys leered. "Tarps ben' torn." Den said. "Back of the truck probably soakin'"

"Great." The key man spat. "Knew the man who sold it was untrustworthy. He didn't blink. NOT ONCE THE ENTIRETY OF THE TIME!" Key Man growled. "Just get the Jerrycan, I wanna get to Miaskoa before Richard can bark and snap at us again. We'll already get our asses handed to us if the equipment is all water-logged and ain't workin'"

"I reckon that man gots it out for us, Cal," Dan leaned he arm on the truck. "Evil that's what he is."

"Only doing our jobs... Now get the Jerrycan and quit that complaining of yours or I'll tape your mouth shut with Duct tape."

Dan sighed and began to lift the forest green tarp. At that moment I crouched then lunged for his throat. The burly man let out a high-pitched scream and flung his hands in front of his face to protect himself. I clamped down on his arm with sharp teeth; it cut through skin easily and the crunch of bone. The coppery taste of blood poured into my mouth and from the bite wound, dripped to the ground soaking the patch of earth red.

A sharp pain bloomed in my side and new blood, although darker than human's, was trickling down from the gashes inflicted by the wired cage, I let go with a hiss. The wound had reopened thanks to a kick from whom I could guess was Cal.

Letting go of his companion I turned to hiss at the lean man. His brown eyes were stretched wide in an expression of fear. Rearing back, I called up the ice that glistened in the base of my throat and with a shudder shot it at the man. It blasted him across the chest like a crackling blue and white firework and spread in icy spirals across his skin and body.