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I rolled out of reach unable to retain my grip on my sword and it clattered to the floor.

The fire demon stepped out of the fire and the Fear scampered over to the bag and began tearing through it. I glanced at the door it was too close to the fire demon but I had to try. I shoot to my feet and made a mad dash for the apartment door. I hurtled over the crouched over Fear and landed on the glossy granite dodging the grasp of the fire demon. I lost my footing for a moment but scrambled quickly across the floor until to my feet found they’re proper place under me and resumed my escape.

I froze in my step as a terrible sound ripped through the night, the sound of growling.

Crap! Crap!

Run Millie! Move! I forced myself into a sprint but my path to the door was blocked by a giant but skeletal dog. It was constructed from flames and black smoke with hallow eyes and mean looking teeth, it was a hell hound.

I spun around on the stop to see the fire demon wielding a fiery whip and goading the other two dogs towards me.

I looked towards the window. Forty-five stories was quite a drop but the pavement would be a lot kinder to me than the hell hounds and mister hot head here. Remember what I said about that sudden attraction to ledges people develop in the apocalypse.

As if reading my thoughts one of the hell hounds sauntered off to guard the windows. I glanced back towards the sword lying on the carpet. It was bit of a stretch to try and grab it but then so was any attempt for escaping. I just had to decide which prospect was worse and which held more risk.

“It’s not there.” The Fear called from the living room tossing my bag aside.

“What’s not there?” I asked.

“The names.” The whip wielder hissed in a voice like a whistling kettle.

“You guys keep saying that but which names?” I demanded.

“The names of the witnesses.” He said.

“And who the hell are they?” I backed slowly towards the door.

“Those who contribute to your magazine.”

I paused.

“Why do you want those?” I asked.

“You will tell us them all.” He said stepping forward.

So not grammatical, my pet peeve.

“I’m not saying anything until you tell me way you want them.”

“To kill them.” He said simply.

“They did nothing to you.” I pointed out.

He nodded.

“But they can do so much more.”

I frowned. I did not like the sound of this. However, with a voice like that even if he said ‘cupcakes and ice cream the apocalypse is over!’ I wouldn’t like the sound of that either.

“I’ve forgotten them I’m afraid.” I gave a helpless shrug. And with that I signed my own death sentence, sharpened the ax, and laid my head on the block.

Welcome to the beginning of my end.

He advanced towards me getting out of the doorway between the entrance hall and living room.

I backed up to gain the little bit of starting distance that the dogs would allow before dashing forward at the flame man, he reach out for me. His arm slammed across my stomach burning me. I slammed him in the elbow with my forearm. He let go of me in a jerking reaction and I rolled across the carpet. The Fear made a grab at me. I retrieved my fallen sword and sliced through the grotesque image of my dead aunt. The Fear quivered, shriveling into a pile of ashes.

The flame demon looked me over acknowledging the treat I posed. He waved his hounds into the living room. Again came the question how does little Millie get to the door and get the hell out of here.

In the mean time I picked up my half burnt bag and tossed it back in to the remaining flames. He didn’t understand why I was doing that and I think he was more interested in muscling the names from me not the latest issue of café daily.  

“Last chance and you might still live. Titanic might live.” He offered.

I laughed, it would be nice if that were true.

“You think I don’t know? You’ll get what you want and then you’ll kill me, and you’ll kill Titanic, if she’s even still live. And then you’ll kill the others. So it’s best I just don’t tell you.” I reasoned.

“Then suffer the consequences.” He growled.

“Everyone dies.” I reminded.

“Who said anything about killing you?” he asked.

I smiled. Of course he hadn’t meant that but during wars spies would kill themselves if they were caught and their enemy refused to be so kind.  

I took a step forward, if there was one thing I couldn’t stand was this whole waiting thing, if you’re gonna kill or torture me don’t be all day about it! you can wait a person to death, you know.

The End

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