DEMONS.

005. hey, look. it's a g- bitch. guys, it's a bitch!

of course, when shane finally gets ryan and tj and the others to try out some stuff in a safe room, he locks it.

he can't exactly have them escaping, can he?

obviously, since he's done that and there aren't any other humans around, he immediately flicks on the badass eyes and the claws flick out and-

what? he sees you staring at those claws, and lemme tell you he's making a fucking fashion statement right here and there as he hunts the sisters.

so, of course they show up right when he starts talking to himself.

"no, shane! demons and ghosts are real! let me use the crappy evidence of someone sounding suspiciously like will smith talking! it's not like you're a demon or anything! i'm just a doofus who murders in his spare time!"

"wow. didn't know we would be getting such easy prey betty." he whipped around, glancing for any signs of a little something sticking out. a piece of clothing, a bit of hair, the start of an er- you know what, he's just not gonna finish that thought.

"hmm. almost as if he just knows we're here." he could hear rustling behind him, but kept acting like he was looking in front of him. "but no one's that idiotic."

he sensed her hand reaching out (wanting to touch his horns perhaps?) and whipped around like a bullet, yanking her arm and shoving his hand on her face.

she squirmed, trying to escape, but his hold was too strong, and he sent her spirit to whatever place she had believed in, laying her would to rest. he turned towards the second sister, and she raised her hands, shuffling towards him.

"just get it over with." he quickly did the process, wiping his hand on the walls as he headed back towards where ryan and the others were probably freaking out.

unfortunately, in front of the door was at least five demons. well, unfortunately for them.

at the end of the short fight, he wiped off his clothes and fixed his claws and eyes, making sure they were gone before plastering his normal, everyday look on his face and unlocking the door, stepping in.

"hey, guys, I can't find anything spooky, so I was wondering if we could go get tacos?" he casually asked as they (as in ryan) just stared at him.

"what?" ryan exclaimed, "tac- no gh- you know what? fuck it. we're done, there's no ghosts or paranormal activity here, we're leaving and apparently getting taco bell and then we're going to cry eat them in our hotel room and then cry ourselves to sleep. goodnight everybody."

ryan shook his head as he walked away, muttering, "un-fucking-believeable."

shane laughed. "who's going to cry eat the tacos and who's going to cry themselves to sleep?"

"me."

"on which one?"

"every, single, one."

shane laughed at him. "i can see why people say you're the serial killer in our group."

tj called out, "he may be short but he's full of fury."

"i'm going to slit your throats in the middle of the night and act like someone broke in, and you won't be laughing at me. why? cause you'll be fucking dead because I fucking killed you!"

"now I know why he has a short temper." shane grinned at tj. "it lasts as long as his height."

"you're fucking dying tonight when I use a sledgehammer to your penguin face."

"not a good insult, but better than the previous ones."

"shut up t. you're second, and i'm gonna use blunt knife, only after I use it on shane, because it'll cause you even more fucking pain."

shane wrapped an arm across his shoulder. "c'mon ryan. let's go get those tacos and cry into them."