"In renowned Italian poet Dante Alighieri's: The Inferno, the first installment of what would come to be known as the 'Divine Comedy', he designs his 'Inferno' as a geographical landscape that's torments worsen and worsen as one nears its center--"

"Mari, dude, you're distracting me. Can't even hear the teach--" Snickering flowed throughout the classroom as all eyes turned to the single boy speaking. "--er. . .what's so funny?"

"Ahem! Jacko Rodden! I know you can't help but burst out, but please restrain yourself."

"Burst out? I was trying to tell Mari to shut up--"

"Wacko-Jacko! Wacko-Jacko! Wacko-Jacko!" Someone called out. Soon, the entire class was awash with chants, leaving the butt of the joke more than confused.

"Um. . .okay?"

The teacher sighed, removing his glasses, and squeezing the bridge of his nose. "If that's true, then please, explain to me the allegory pertaining the the character Dante and his love Beatrice."

"Umm. . .okay, I think Dante is supposed to be like--"

"Dante represents the Christian Everyman, while Beatrice represents theology as a whole." Called out the class favorite, Chris Kersten.

"Thank you, Chris." The kid nodded, then launched a devious glare at Jacko. "Now, if my son-- if Christopher knows such a simple answer, then why don't you, Jacko?"

"Mister Kirsten - teach, I was just about to answer before -- what Mari? Not now!"

The teacher slammed his handbook down on the desk, silencing the entire class in an instant. "This class has no place for idiots. Get out, now!"

Oohs ran out through the classroom, followed by the single snickering of the perfect Chris. The teacher's face was glowing red like a ripe tomato, and Jacko didn't feel it'd be smart to argue. He picked up his books, and sauntered out of the classroom.

"Jeez. What the heck is his problem?" He asked as he traveled down the hall. "Can they. . .really not see you, Mari--"

"Hey, Jacko! Over here a minute." He, broke his gaze from beside him and shifted his glasses to see forward. Down the hall, a tall boy waved him over.

Stephen, he thought to himself, I wonder what this guy wants?

Jacko sauntered on up to the boy, who had to look down to even meet his eyes. Stephen leaned against the lockers, his small crew of about five boys mimicking him like it were choreographed. "Hey man! How ya' been?"

"You know, up and down. And around. The weeks been pretty hectic with all the exams, am I right?"

"He probably has to take the 'special' exams." Whispered one of the guys. They all stifled laughter, but Jacko pretended not to hear it. Sometimes it was better that way.

"So, hey man, any updates on. . .what was it, those--" He stifled a laugh, "aliens? The third kind?"

"No," He said solidly, "it was demons. The 'hell' kind. And yeah, I've seen a ton by that old barn on Whippoorwill Street. Looks like their rallying their troops or something. Nah, you know what I'm thinkin'? That's where they got their Hell Gate set up! Out of sight, it's a perfect spot! Shit, I need to write this stuff down. . ."

"See guys?" He whispered to his side, "Told you he was a total nut. Hold on, hold on. . ." Stephen cleared his throat, wiping the stupid smile from his face. "That old barn, huh? All I've seen there is cows, man." The guys had to look away to control their chuckles.

"Yeah, because that's what they want you to see. They got, like, this Shroud or something that keeps of from seeing the truth. You can ask Mari! She knows all about this stuff."

"Mari, huh? She sounds cute. So, where is this Mari?"

"Right here." He gestured to the area beside him.

"R-right there? You sure?"

"Yeah dude, you're looking right at her."

The guys watched as Stephen slipped his hands into his jacket pockets, and waltz confidently in front of we're "Mari" was. He raised a brow, a smile coming to his face. "What's up, Mari? I'm Stephen Bradford, but a pretty girl like you, you can call me Steve."

The guys were nearly rolling at this point, and Jacko did his best not to acknowledge them.

"What was that? You wanna get out of here? Come to my place? Jeez, Mari, I didn't know you were that easy!" They couldn't control it any longer, and the hall erupted in a cacophony of laughter. "Yowch. . .sorry bro, looks like she wants me a little more than you. Bummer." He made a movement as if he were putting his arm around a girl's shoulder. "Now, if you don't mind, me and Mari here need some alone time."

Jacko dropped his gaze to the floor, turning on his heels and squeezing the strap of his bag. The mocking laughs of his peers following him down the halls and out the school. He didn't know where he was going, just that he needed to get out of there.

"Man, and here I thought he could actually see you. . ."

A second set of footsteps followed his as he padded along the sidewalk, and a hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Why do you let them mock you like that?" Mari asked, stepping in pace beside him, "if you wanted to, you could've kicked their asses then and there."

Jack laughed, studying the cracks in the old concrete. "You can't really blame 'em, can you? I'd think I was crazy too if I was the only one protecting this town from the forces of evil." He laughed. "I'm, like, a hero, you know that, right?"

She made a face, raising a brow. "You? A hero? Heck, if it wasn't for me, you'd have already been demon chow by now. And their called daemons, not demons."

"Tomayto-tomahto. Same difference."

"Whatever. Since you ditched school and the truancy officers will probably be on your trail in less than a minute, where do you plan on heading?"

"Where else? It's still light out, right? So the demons shouldn't be able to really do anything about me poking around their fort."

"Not entirely true. It's only the greater demons that don't like the sun. Messes with the Shroud. But hey, if you want to risk your life, I'm down." He smiled, motioning for his companion to follow. Together they, made for Whippoorwill Farm, the stronghold of the daemon that endangered their town.

*

"Do you see any?" Asked Jacko, dipping around an oak tree like a ninja. "I can smell em. Like unwashed boxers and week-old Hotpockets."

"I think that's you you're smelling there, champ." Mari stepped out into the open, putting her hands on her hips and scanning the area.

"Oi! You trying to get our cover blown?"

"Relax," she reassured, "If they're anywhere, their down in the shed-house, you know, away from the sunlight. It's not like they have, I dunno, sentry units or patrolmen."

"You're underestimating their intelligence. Your forgetting these are the guys who can trick us into thinking we're getting mauled by a bear when actually--"

"You're getting mauled by a daemon," she finished for him, smirking triumphantly, "i've heard it a thousand times. You and me can see through the Shroud, so what's the worry?"

"I'm just saying. . ." He stood, dropping his bookbag by the base of the tree and skirting down from their vantage point. "Let's get closer, and we run into any sentries, pull out, and meet up at the safe house."

"Roger that, Captain." She snickered, following close behind.

When they reached the barn, the scent Jacko had coined earlier was now even stronger, and it was obvious it wasn't the barn animals.

"Jesus-- you weren't kidding! It's gone from your bedroom odor, to a dead cat on the side of the road!" She pulled her collar up above her nose in disgust. Jacko spun around three-sixty, a crusty sailorman's scowl plastered on his face.

"Ye' smell that, lass? That be the reak of demon. As rank and musty as me mum's cookin'. I reckon the whole lot of em' be held up inside these walls."

"So, what do you reckon we do then, capn'?"

He stroked his chin, thinking up the most safest and efficient means of entry. They needed an escape route. If they were to be spotted, the daemons wouldn't bother chasing them into the daylight. Fighting was out of the question. If the crap hit the fan, they'd have to flee. As they were now, fighting a daemon would be suicide. But everything has a weakness, and that's what they were there to figure out.

"I got a plan, you with me?"

"Why else would I be here?"

"Eh, good point. Alright, so the plan is. . ."

*

Mari sat perched high in the tallest oak. She grumbled, tree leaves and twigs catching in her swirly black hair like a yarn ball, and to make matters worse, she was on the branch awkwardly, and was already beginning to get a cramp.

"I swear, this is the last time I'm going along with one of your plans."

"Don't worry!" He called up from the ground, "i'll be in and out--" he snapped his fingers, "--like that."

"You'd better be. . ."

"Got the walkie-talkie?"

She held up the clunky device and spoke into it. "Check. Got the camera?"

"Check," he replied back, patting the Polaroid around his neck, "all set then. So you remember your--"

"Yeah, yeah - I'm your eyes and ears. If I see any sentries, I pull you outta' there - if you're inside for more than twenty minutes, I pull you out. Is that all? Now, go on. I'm getting sore in places no girl should ever be sore in."

He nodded, giving her a thumbs up. With that, he began towards the barn again, skirting the outer wall, and scanning the back for any traps.

"All clear out here, Woodpecker. Raccoon moving into position--"

"Woodpecker? Really?"

"You're in a tree, so it makes sense - now focus! Do you see anything?"

She squinted, pivoting her head across the expansive farmland. "The only thing I see is your goofy ass."

"Roger that, Raccoon advancing. Over and out." He lifted his thumb off the walkie-talkie button, clipping it onto his belt and flipping on his low-flashlight. It wasn't too strong, but that was good. He'd only need to see a few meters in front of him. If a daemon was roaming, he'd hear it before he'd ever see it.

Above him was a window, left peculiarly slightly ajar, but not so much that it seemed like an obvious trap. He stuck his light between his teeth, and using his upper body, he pulled himself up onto the sill. From there, he worked with the old window, failing once to pry it open before finally succeeding on his second try. He hoisted himself in slowly, but despite his carefulness, he tumbled inwards and crashed anyway.

"Holy--" Mari fumbled for her walkie-talkie, nearly dropping it in alarm, "Jacko?! What just happened!?"

He reached for his own walkie-talkie, bringing it to his lips and whispering. "I slipped, but I'm fine. Give me some visuals."

She sighed in relief before scanning the field again. "You're good. Oh shoot wait -- Ah, nope, never mind. It was a squirrel."

"Are you sure it's a squirrel? They could use those as incognito sentries!"

"I'm pretty sure it's just an ordinary old squirrel. Ninety-nine percent sure."

"Mari!" He sighed, clipping the walkie-talkie to his belt once again. "Okay. . .where the hell are we. . ." He aimed the flashlight around, the sunlight through the window providing a bit more field of vision. Around him lay tools and farming equipment. The usual. Nothing demonic here. Yet, the odor still lingered, stronger still. He knew without a doubt there were daemon somewhere inside, and he'd find them.

He searched the place, turning over hay bales, shuffling through manure, and even wading through a year's supply of pig slop. He didn't think the owner would mind, consider it was all a front for a daemon meet and greet. Either that, or they killed the owner of this farm a long time ago.

He was just about to give up before his eye caught something. He shined it quickly with his light, and his heart rose.

"You're kidding me. Hell, yeah!" He covered his mouth quickly, fighting to control his excitement as he grabbed his walkie-talkie. "Psst! Raccoon to Woodpecker - do you copy?"

"Aye, aye, I copy." She swung her legs from the thick branch she sat on, bored out of her mind, and just near nodding off. But the excitement in Jacko's voice stirred her. "What's up? You find something?"

"Oh, did I ever!" He eyed the cellar door with an adrenaline fueled grin. Like the window, it hung slightly ajar, deep gashed that resembled four-fingered claw marks etched into the metal like runic script. "I think I found where the parties being thrown."

Mari's lips tightened, and she stared hard at the shed-house. "Hey. . .be careful. You got ten minutes. Be out by seven."

"I'll be careful," he reassured her. "Raccoon signing out." He clipped the device back on his belt before approaching the door hesitantly. Part of him had the urge to go down there, and find out what lay dormant. And the other part of him - the not-totally-nuts side wanted to leave and pretend he'd never even seen the place. But the heroic side one, and he resolved to see his mission through. He'd show them that he wasn't crazy. Even if he had to do it alone, he'd protect this town. Because other than Mari, what else did he have?

He slowly pried open the cellar doors, a hot gust of sour air assaulting his nostrils and inciting a coughing fit. He swore, removing his scarf from his wrist and fixing it around his face.

It's party time, you nasty bastards.

He shone his light ahead of him, and descended into the cellar.