P.O.V. OLIVIA
The road to the farmhouse was strange in an absurdly on-the-nose kind of way. During the drive, a deer jumped out of the woods and stood in front of our car. Luckily, Jon narrowly avoided it, taping its butt and sending it crashing to the ground. Luckily, it stood up just fine.
"That was something," I remarked, though he seemed more concerned about the damage to the car's bumper.
On our way there I stared out the window, watching as the trees shifted from tall and beautifully green beacons of life, to crooked and twisted, with leaves grayer than ash.
"A fire?" I asked Jon. His face looked concerned momentarily before returning to its usual smug look.
"The news would have said something about a fire of this scale," He said with his usual arrogant tone. "We're heading in the right direction, that's for sure," he said ominously.
Once we approached the farm, the trees cut off forming a perfect treeline surrounding the farm. By the looks of it, it wasn't too large, maybe four acres large.
Around the farm were corn crops taller than Jon and fat cute cows roaming around, five in total. The farmhouse itself was gray and two stories tall with broken and barred windows on the first floor. The second was surprisingly clean compared to the rest and I could even see the faintest light peering through the windows as Jon pulled up the dirt driveway.
As we pulled up, we spotted the farmer, a sweet old man by the looks of it, eighty years of age with a crooked stance, like he was carrying a large sack of potatoes on his back. Jon looked at me saying, "Creepy looking bastard ain't he?"
"He's cute," I grudged.
As we got out of the car the old man stood completely straight, fixing his posture in our presence as if he never had back problems to begin with.
"Sir?" Jon called out.
When Jon called out, the old man took a deep breath though it sounded raspy like something was stuck in his throat.
"Are you ok, sir?" I asked.
Then, he spoke as if nothing was out of the ordinary, going back to his hunched state he turned to meet us and looked exactly as I imagined. Rinkly skin, cute toothless lips, and the sweetest voice you'd expect from a man of his age.
"Ah yes, my apologies young lad," he said taking his straw hat off. I found the few strands of hair left on his head adorable, but he put his hat back on to cover them, unfortunately. "Please come in, make yourself at home," he told us, struggling to climb his wooden stairs. I quickly ran over to help him, the stairs beneath me cracking behind my weight.
"Let me help you, sir," I told him smiling. His poor old body was frail and cold when I touched him. This poor man should be sleeping in his bed, not worrying about some demon hunting his property.
"You coming?" I asked turning to Jon. He kept staring at the old man as he climbed up the stairs.
"Jon?" I asked again.
"Coming," He replied.
Together we helped the old man walk up the stairs. When he opened the door we were greeted with the scent of cookies roaming the air.
"What kind of cookies are you baking?" I asked the man.
"Chocolate chip cookies, would you like some?" he asked.
"No thank you," Jon replied.
I gave him a stern look.
"We'd love to have one of your cookies, thank you," I told him. He gave me a warm smile in return.
"I'll be back then," he said patting my hand.
As the old man walked into the kitchen Jon grabbed me by the arm and asked,
"What are you thinking, sweet sister? We barely know the man and now you wish to eat one of his cookies that could be easily poisoned?"
"He's an old man," I replied angrily, "you scared of an old man?" I asked grinning.
Jon shook his head, still smiling behind his annoyance.
"If you want to choose poison as your means of death, then, by all means, eat his cookies. I promise to morn for you after your passing." He told me.
"I've eaten your cookies before, haven't I? I think I'll be fine," I replied.
Letting go of my arm, Jon began looking around the room. It was messy but cleaner than our room, though that isn't my fault. There was a cold cup of tea sitting on his wooden table and his sofa had long slits across it. His family photos were shattered with the faces of his kin scratched out.
"Rough family?" I asked Jon.
"Looks like it, poor old man," he said with sympathy.
"Glad to see you aren't a monster," He laughed at my comment.
"Where do you think those gashes came from?"
"The sofa looks old," I told him sitting down on it, "Could simply be worn out."
"Or the demon attacked," Jon said staring into my eyes. "How long has the request been up?"
"Yesterday night, why?"
Jon didn't reply. He kept looking around the living room. Opening doors and looking behind bookshelves for clues I assumed.
"He's a quiet cook," He said. Now that I think about it, Jon is right. I didn't hear the man make any noise in the kitchen next to us. My heart beat a little faster once I noticed.
"Sir?" I called out.
For a moment no noise came from the kitchen. I turned to Jon, both of us being on high alert now. His hand was already placed on his python and mine on my long sword. I sat up from the sofa attempting to peer into the kitchen until finally, the man spoke coming into view.
"I'm so sorry for the wait," He said, his face filled with concern. I looked to the floor sighing in relief.
"It's all right," I told him smiling, "We're in no rush."
The man smiled and nodded at me. He then turned to look at Jon and his smile quickly faded as he looked beneath his waist. I turned to look at Jon and saw his hand still on his python.
"Jon," I said coldly. He looked at me for a moment then at the man. No one moved as the two stared at each other until finally Jon smiled, lifting both his hands high above his head.
"My apologies," he said grinning.
"No no," the old man replied. "My hospitality might need some work, It's been a terribly long while since I've had visitors. I'm sorry if I frightened you."
"I apologize for him," I told him. "My brother lacks social skills," I leaned over to the old man and whispered, "He doesn't have many friends so he's a bit jumpy, don't pay him any mind."
The man laughed and tapped my shoulder. My fondness for him grew even more. I turned to Jon as the man led me to the kitchen and smiled. He smiled back and shook his head, crossing an ex over his mouth with his fingers mouthing, "Don't eat the cookie."
In my eyes Jon was paranoid, but even I'm not so stupid. Better to be safe than sorry.
"Sit sit please," The old man told us, placing his straw hat on the kitchen next to the freshly brewed teapot.
As I sat down at the round kitchen table, Jon grabbed his chair and scooted it over next to me. I looked at him concerned. Did he think I was his mother?
"What are you doing?" I asked him, giving him a worried look. He didn't reply.
The old man finally placed the cookies and tea in front of us. As delicious as the cookies smelled, I had to resist eating them unless I wanted to be the first one buried between me and Jon. The tea would be easy to resist thought as it seemed capable of burning my asking off if I touched it.
"Can I at least drink the tea?" I whispered mockingly.
"Do as you wish," He said staring at the man.
Jon was smug and arrogant, but not stupid. Despite how I may feel about his character I respected that, so I followed his lead.
"Drink," the old man gestured smiling. It broke my heart not listening to him but before I could budge Jon decided to spark a conversation.
"We aren't here to be your guest, sir. So about the demon," Jon started.
"Demon?" The old man interrupted, the kindness vanishing from his voice. He stared at Jon for a long while this time. It was strange behavior but it didn't last long as the smile returned to his face when the light bulb clicked in his head.
"Ah!, the demon of course." he said, "Shall I tell you about my twins?" The old man asked.
Jon looked at me and I back at him confused.
"Sir-"
"Please," the old man interrupted, "It's been a long while since I've had visitors and even longer since I've had the chance to speak about my boys."
Jon sighed as he looked away. "Very well," he said, "please tell us."
The old man smiled. "They were sweet boys born and raised together," The man began, his hands wrapped around his hot tea mug. "One day, as me and my wife were outside picking a fresh batch of corn, our boys came up to us, joyful as any youth. They looked at me with such excitement I couldn't help but smile," The man said. The story sounded so sweet and sincere so I found it strange that the man didn't even crack a smile as he told it.
When I looked over at Jon he too didn't smile, he just kept staring at the man as he told his story.
"Jonny, one of my boy's names, told me he wanted to be a demon hunter. Can you believe that? A boy with no value and nothing special going for him shooting for such a dangerous job. The smile on my face quickly faded when those words crawled out of his mouth. His mother was frightened to death," he said giggling, "I scolded the boys and warned them of it. They didn't listen of course, as all young lads do and eventually, they bit off more than they could chew. They got a request for an abandoned building. I warned my boys not to go. They had no idea how great demons were, too powerful for any mortal but they didn't care. Their mother gave them a blessing before they left. It was the last time I ever saw them. I never even learned how they passed. When A demon gets you it's rare for ones body to be found so I never got that closure," the man paused his story, staring into his warm cup of team.
Jon stared intently, licking his lips deep in thought. However, the old man seemed unbothered, like his mind left his body and wandered off to a time he once lived.
"How do we get to the demon?" Jon asked him.
The old man's eyes darted up and he stared at Jon. The smiling old man seemed to vanish, however, like he still wasn't there, but then he smiled again.
"Ah yes! Well, I'm sorry young lad, but the demon only strikes at night-time so if It isn't too much trouble I'd very much appreciate you fine folks staying the night." the old man asked.
Jon looked at me, he didn't say anything but I knew what he was thinking. I nodded in reassurance and Jon turned to face the man.
"Very well, where can we stay?" Almost as soon as the words escaped Jon's mouth the old man practically launched out of his seat and walked over to us, "Come! Come!" he told us eagerly.
Jon scuffed under his breath and followed the old man up the stairs, I followed closely behind him.
The second floor consisted of a singular long hallway with doors and rooms on each side. At the end of the long hallway was a small wooden table with red spider lilies placed inside a glass flower pot.
Unlike the pretty blue walls on the first floor, the second floor was yellow, a terrible color choice for the eyes in my opinion. Long gashes ran along the walls and the wallpaper was peeled and old, like history papers.
Long black lines ripped through the ceiling like vines from one end of the hallway to the other. Strangely, all the light bulbs were shattered as the strange black vines ripped through them. But then how was their light when we first got here?
If the light bulbs were shattered, shouldn't there have been no light?
As the old man led us to our room at the very end of the hallway, I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind.
"Here you go," he said joyfully. Jon simply nodded.
"Thank you," I told him smiling, though it became increasingly harder to do so.
The old man hesitated to smile back, this time I was the one on the receiving end of one of his cold stares. Still, he forced his smile and nodded at me, wobbling away.
The room had two beds placed on opposite sides of the wall and a single chair in the middle.
"Well, better than the shit hole we're used to," he said as he sat down on the bed.
I walked over to the open closet and saw all the child-like clothing neatly folded.
"This is the twin's room," I told him.
Jon seemed bothered. He looked around the room's old appearance as if judging it.
"He really is a creepy old fucker, isn't he?" He said.
I thought about it for a second. At first, the old man seemed cute and innocent, I felt terrible seeing him alone. But the more I thought about it the more I found myself aligning with Jon's opinion.
"Maybe he's just traumatized? Could be some kind of conditions too, no?" I told him, though even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice.
Jon placed his curved cowboy hat on the bed and tilted his head as if studying me. Jon stood up from the bed and walked over to the single window giving light to the room.
"What do you think is in the barn?" he asked.
I walked over to the window and stood next to him staring at the barn. It was red and the wood looked like it has been rotting for years, but most notable was that it was sealed off by three wooden planks.
"I don't know," I told him.
"Best not keep our curiosities waiting then," he said aloud. The fear that the old man might be hearing him crossed my mind.
"We're investigating tonight."
"Should we really be doing that behind the old man's back?"
"If my suspicions about him are right, who cares?"
"And what suspicions are those?" I asked interested.
"Possession." He replied.
I stared at him and then at the barn. Could he be right?
"If that's true we've walked into a trap, Jon."
"Nah," he said smiling, "We've caught on too quickly for it to pounce," he said as he laid back down on the bed.
"Go ahead and rest sweet sister, we'll take care of this bastard at night," he proclaimed confidently.
I could only hope his arrogance won't lead us to our demise.