Mark and Desmond slump down against the basement wall. Demon-killing is exhausting work.
Mark stares blankly for a moment then looks at Desmond. “I’m so sorry. It just came out.”
Desmond wipes demon slime off his axe. “It’s fine.”
“No.” Mark puts down his dagger, still dirty. “I mean, thank you. That’s kind. But it’s not fine. Obviously it’s not fine.”
“Don’t stress about it.” He pulls a plastic bottle out of his coat and pours oil over the axe.
Mark picks up the dagger and starts wiping it off. “I don’t even know why I said that.”
Desmond passes him the bottle. “Said what?”
Mark takes the bottle but doesn’t pour it. “You… you want me to say it again?”
“Yeah. Yes. Tell me what you said to that demon.”
“Um.” The bottle hovers over the blade. “‘I’m a kill yo ass’ is what… is what I said.” He looks away and pours the oil.
“And why do you think you said that?” Desmond stands up and grabs a dead demon by one of its horns and starts hacking at the horn with the anointed axe.
Mark moves to a different demon’s body. “I don’t know…?” He turns away and starts working a fang out of its mouth with his dagger.
“Yes you do.” Desmond doesn’t look up from hacking at the surprisingly solid skull.
“I was really scared?” Mark frees the tooth and puts it in a ziplock bag. “I thought it might get me? I really wanted to kill it?”
Desmond finally rips the horn free with a crack, and he drops it into a bigger ziplock. “And you thought the demon from Hell would be scared by your Black Guy Voice?”