Juniper returned to her seat, cradling the gurgling monster in her lap. “You have?”

Jack nodded. “And I see the solution, too.”

“Then what is it?” Whirling leapt from his seat, arms raised.

“You two,” said Jack, gesturing to Hannah and Lydia. “We’re going home.”

Whirling fell over. “Why? What did we do for you to forsake us?”

Frowning, Hannah suppressed a sigh. “It does seem a bit harsh.” Whirling was certainly annoying, and it did look like they’d adopted their own problem, but work was work. They needed it.

“Hmph,” said Lydia, standing. “If people want others to help them, first they must help themselves.”

“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Tears were welling in Juniper’s eyes, the thing chewing at her hair. “We trusted you.”

Pointing at Jack, Popcorn’s face contorted. “I told you he was a grifter!”

Mouth hanging open, Jack laughed. “Oh, you did, did you?” He resumed walking. “Well, I’m definitely not staying now.”

“Wait!” Whirling threw himself at his feet, blocking his escape. “I don’t know what we did, but I can make up for it, I swear! I can change!”

Hannah squinted. “What are you, his jilted lover?”

Popping to a kneeling position, Whirling looked between them with frenzied eyes. “We have nobody else to turn to!”

“Oh?” Cracking her knuckles, Lydia advanced on him. “But here I thought our levels weren’t high enough to enter this area.”

He turned to her, putting his forehead back on the floor. “I’m sorry! I had to make sure you wouldn’t be insta-killed by the Archfiends minions.”

Flailing in Anti’s direction, Jack made a simmering noise. “The Archfiend’s minion is right in front of you!”

The demon baby was cooing, reaching out for the cat which had appeared from nowhere on Popcorn’s lap.

What was that thing, anyway?

She cycled through all the books she remembered with demons, but it didn’t strike her as something real. That kind of monstrosity was reserved for horror novels; reality was much more mundane.

Rubbing his forehead, Jack licked his teeth. “Okay, it’s been four weeks since I was last here, and you weren’t pregnant then. So where did the baby come from?”

“His name is Anti!” said Popcorn, slumped with folded arms.

Anti gurgled, grinning wickedly at the cat.

That probably wasn’t a good sign.

“Yes,” said Jack, “because babies called Anti are historically good omens!”

Pouting, Popcorn bristled. “Yeah, well he’s a good omen for me. I’ve wanted a little brother forever…”

Juniper looked down with a pinched expression.

Jack sighed. “Regardless, where did you adopt him from?”

Whirling, who had returned to his seat, stammered. “Well, you see, the thing about that is-”

“You have no idea, do you?” said Lydia, eying them down her nose.

He joined his wife in studying the floor.

“I just sort of found him,” mumbled Popcorn. “I don’t remember what happened before I woke up with him.”

“So for all you know,” said Jack, his tone frantic, “you could very easily have just kidnapped this thing!”

Oh, for the love of Dragula.

She supposed that, eventually, she would just get used to this kind of absurdity.

Juniper swallowed. “Please don’t call him a thing; he’s our beautiful baby boy.” She kissed Anti’s head, rising with squiggling lips.

She felt her stomach try to slide up her throat.

Gagging, Jack said, “uh, Juniper, you might wanna just…” He mimed wiping his mouth, and she followed suit, clearing away the maggots.

She noted the larvae on the back of her hand. “Oh, how adorable: he’s shedding hairs already!”

“So adorable,” said Hannah, breathless.

Lydia grimaced. “Indeed.”

“Seriously?” said Jack, pulling at his hair. “None of you people see this?”

“See what?” asked Whirling, brow wrinkled.

“Your baby is a demon!”

Hannah cleared her throat. “He’s also a complete rip-off.”

“That too!”

“How dare you,” said Juniper, hand on her chest.

“Don’t you talk about my brother like that!” said Popcorn.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Whirling, waving it away. “Just because he looks a little bit different doesn’t give you the right to judge him.”

His eyes bulging, Jack growled. “So you definitely see it then: the nightmare in your wife’s lap!”

They ignored him.

Hannah looked at the creature, which was bouncing and cooing and reaching out for the cat, with an expression you might see on babies anywhere.

Minus the extra mouths, of course.

It was acting like a normal baby; maybe they were overreacting?

With a swift movement, Anti plucked the cat from Whirling’s lap and opened his mouth wide.

Crunch.

Blood showered over them all, the demon spawn munching with a contented smile.

Retching, Hannah wiped the arterial spray from her face, her insides wincing as she watched the demon enjoy his snack.

“Hmm,” said Lydia, gracefully ignoring the crimson dripping from her forehead. “It would appear your new son is cat-nivorous.”

“Oi,” said Jack, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Does this really seem normal to you? He just munched down on your beloved family pet like it was made of chocolate!”

Juniper looked down, eyes wide and jaw slack, before breaking into a smile. “Oh, thank heavens! I thought for sure he’d lost his appetite.”

Really? That was her issue?

“No,” said Jack, “the only thing lost here is your mind.”

“You need to chill out,” said Popcorn, tickling under Anti’s chin. “He’s just a baby.”

Crunch.

Blood spurted from the space between Popcorn’s thumb and middle finger.

Lydia and Hannah stared at the trembling teenager, dumbfounded.

Jack’s forehead threatened to burst. “He just bit your finger off! There isn't even familial love here, just ravenous hunger!"

Popcorn put his hand behind his back. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Like hell you don't! That finger won't grow back, you know!"

"That finger was always missing."

"How far do you need to deny the problem?”

Coughing, Lydia put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, we can’t truly know the cause until we experience it first-hand, can we?” She smiled at the Bradys, though it was less reassuring and more like the final memory of a serial killer’s victim. “Just leave this to us.”

***

“Oi,” said Jack, his nose buried in a hardback with a green cover, “whaddya think you’re doing, acting like you’re in charge?”

Harrumphing, Lydia smirked. “I am in charge. I am, after all, the greatest authority on magic here.”

“Is that why you’re doing that weird dance?”

Nostrils flaring, she felt heat spreading from her chest to her arms. They were waving as she stepped side-to-side in the living room, the Bradys having already retired. Hannah was asleep, mumbling in the chair, and Jack had contorted himself upon the couch to avoid bloodstains.

“A dance?” Of course the uninitiated couldn’t understand, especially an idiot like him. She reminded herself that her assistance was something of a public service, that would help her win hearts and minds.

She didn’t care what he thought.

Hannah, though, was okay, for a vampire - she actually listened, and showed her the respect she was owed.

But no matter how much she put him in his place, he sprang back up to annoy her.

He’d learn eventually.

“I suppose, if you look at it from a very low angle, wearing a pair of broken sunglasses, then it may look like a dance.”

Squinting, Jack said, “nope, even from here. You should work on your rhythm, though.”

She stormed over, pulling the book down and shoving her face into his. “Now listen, peasant, because this may fry your tiny brain: what I am doing is an incredibly subtle and precise manipulation of energy which will tell me exactly when and how unnatural things begin to occur. Do you understand?”

“Did you just call me a peasant?”

“That’s not the point!” She backed off, palming her forehead before returning to the working. The movements seemed random, but that was because an observer couldn’t see what she could. They were like guide arrows, directing her focus to the next point of interest.

It was more of a projection than anything else: the vectors and lines of physical forces, given shape by her mind’s eye. She could sense it all.

And nothing seemed out of place.

“What are you doing?” she said, turning to Jack with a raised eyebrow and half a smile.

Flipping a page, he said, “research.”

“Into what?”

“Demons,” said Jack. “I mean, this plot and the one we’re in right now are basically the same, so why not?”

Her mouth went agape. She wasn’t familiar with what he was reading, but it couldn’t be that similar. Then again, it was widely believed that all stories were just documents of parallel worlds, rather than creations of an author.

How else would they deal with the existential crisis of knowing that you’re fictional?

Still, it couldn’t be as simple as he assumed it was. Life wasn’t that easy.

“And have you found anything worthwhile?” she said. She still couldn’t feel anything.

“Well,” said Jack, “how good are you at chess?”

Without even processing his question, she felt a pressure against her head. She wanted to take to her knees and scream, to roar against the grating of her skin.

But she wasn’t that weak.

She had known of her technique’s shortcoming, of course: to feel the energy, she had to open up her senses and extend them. But too much energy would invade and ravage them.

Wobbling, she put her hand on her head and let out a continuous growl. Everything was spinning.

Jack set the book down next to him, brow wrinkling. “Everything alright over there?”

“Funny dance worked,” she said, glowering at him. “Magic everywhere.”

“Does it usually turn you into a caveman?”

“Cave-woman,” murmured Hannah, yawning and stretching. “What did I miss?”

“I think she’s about to soil herself,” said Jack.

If she did, she thought, it would be going on his pillow. “Something’s happening.”

Grinning, she rose to her feet. “Then let’s waste no more time! Where?”

Lydia grimaced. “Everywhere.”

“That’s helpful,” said Jack. “I’ll check upstairs, then.”

***

Ascending the stairs, he narrowed his eyes as a familiar boiling rage overcame him. Why was his life so ridiculous?

A green glow was emanating from the left of two doors on the top landing, a metallic stench forcing its way up his nose.

“Found it, guys!” he yelled, slamming the door open.

The room was a ten foot cube with thick carpet. To his right was a black wall, glowing green, and across from that was a double bed beneath a window. The curtains were black and heavy, the sheets ruffled by the form of Popcorn beneath them. One hand grasped the duvet, and the other was outstretched, pointing towards the anomaly at the foot of the bed.

There, directly in front of Jack, was a pulsating green mass that belonged to a different plane of existence. His insides quivered as he stepped in. His foot caught on something.

It was dirty underwear.

With a grimace, Jack looked to Popcorn, whose eyes were stark and wide. "Did you do that?"

Popcorn turned his head, his jaw undecided on its best course of action. "You... you can see the lights?"

Jack slapped himself in the forehead. "What I see is a window to another world, and the idiot who opened it. Anything could walk through!"

Anti wriggled out from under the covers, bouncing and gurgling.

Groaning, Jack said, “I knew it…”

The window pulsed. Jack and Popcorn gulped, Jack backing up to the bedside.

The Gate pulsed again, rippling as a black mass forced its way through. It looked up and snarled.

It was a grizzly black dog, with reptilian feet and fangs like sabres. Still snarling, it took a step forward, and Jack reached for his pocket.

Oh, yeah. He’d come from the pub, hadn’t he?

Gritting his teeth, he tried his best to keep his heart from escaping.

The dog began chasing its tail.

Jack's face dropped, a burning stone taking residence in his chest. He looked to Popcorn, who was trying to scream, but instead sounded like he needed a ventilator.

The window rippled again, and another creature stepped through, setting Jack's stomach to a spin cycle. It was vaguely humanoid, with cracked orange skin and eight arms. Where its heart would be was a hole filled with snakes, and instead of legs, there were just fleshy stumps dangling as it levitated.

Jack paled. This was the worst-case scenario.

The creature stared at Popcorn, noticing the wriggling mass next to him. "Antibody! To think I'd find you here..." His voice was raspy, but soft. Anti perked up and chirped, running over to his master.

Jack glared at Popcorn. “This is what happens when you kidnap babies: their parents come for revenge!”

He spluttered. “I told you, I don’t remember what happened!”

“Like hell! You opened up a Gate and everything, you halfwit!”

“But I don’t know how; all I did was wave my arms about a bit and the lights moved!”

“Humans,” said the demon, his face breaking into a horrifying grin, “perfect. Now I may fulfil my purpose.” He floated towards them, powerful and menacing.

Jack shook his head. “No.” He grabbed the demon by its shoulder, marching it back to the Gate. “We are not doing this; the flashback in chapter eighteen was bad enough. You’re in the wrong story: go home.”

“Well, I’m trying to.” The demon squelched free. “That’s why I have the purpose of asking you for directions.”

Gaping, he coughed. “Wait, hang on… not to rip our faces off? Aren’t you L*rd L*ss?”

The demon’s lipless mouth made a line. “Whoever told you that? I am Lord Lost.”

“That's the worst pun I’ve ever heard!”