to hell and back.

Husk is still driving. The radio is tuned to a random channel that is flickering between political updates and an assortment of random rock songs (the screamo kind of shit that Husk listens to).

"Holy mother of fuck, how far did Alastor go?" Angel groans from in front of me, shifting dramatically against his seat.

The scenery whirls past us like streaked paint. I lean on the window sill, my chin resting in the palm of my hand, watching as the blurry, red-brick buildings float by. Like usual, there are only a few cars on the road, and they too are speeding like they have somewhere important to be. I enjoy staring out of the window, watching everything pass by in fuzzy smears. It gives my mind something to think about.

My head actually feels blank and empty, like it's been drenched in sap. I just want to know what's happening. All of this is just too confusing for me to even sort through.

Then Husk mutters a deep, "Shit." Trying to see what's going on, I crane my neck around Angel's seat, which I am sitting behind. It enables me to catch a glimpse of the nearing black fog through the windshield. It's definitely closer, looming over the city like a giant storm cloud.

Surely, other people are noticing this thing.

"Do you think anyone else is, like, noticing this? Do you think they're panicking?" I ask after unbuckling my seatbelt so I can scoot closer to Husk and Angel, wedging myself between the two front seats.

"Maybe," Husk replies. I've never seen him more... attentive than he is right now. Usually, he's slouched over the hotel bar counter, wiping at a spot or pouring a tall glass of booze for some lonely demon, but right now, his posture is straight, his cat-like ears are perked up, and his eyes are flicking about, inspecting his surroundings. "But maybe not. Lots of people down here don't give two flying fucks about anything. They could just think this is some normal, everyday thing."

That's probably true.

"That would be good, actually..." he continues, and I notice him step on the gas. "...if nobody thinks twice about this weird ass ginormous cloud thing. We don't want to get anyone else unnecessarily involved-"

Angel groans again, carelessly interrupting Husk. "Are we there yet?" he whines. I look over at him; his head has somehow made it to the floor and his feet are kicked up over the top of his seat backing. I giggle at the spider, but don't respond to him.

Eventually-and to Angel's great relief-we approach a wide, gloomy-looking mansion with dark paint and flamboyantly large windows. It's still far away from us, so I can't pinpoint too many details, but we can't drive any closer. The road curves around in a circle, cutting off a distance away from the building, which has been placed on the crest of a grassy hill. There is a stone path connecting the front door to the street that I could walk along to reach the front door. There is only one door that I can see, a big brown one placed in the front and center of the house where the walkway ends. There are masses of greenery, such as bushes and patches of dying flowers, covering the lawn in front of it, providing a more homey feel to the otherwise cold building.

And, finally, hovering above the place in a giant dark mass is the weird tornado, aimed down at the building like an oversized funnel.

"I think they're in there," Husk states the obvious, putting the car into park on the curb in front of the building.

Angel sits up straight, then rolls down his window. Placing his palms on the window sill, he reaches his head out of the opening to get a better look. "Oh, hell no!" I hear him shout, his head still jutting out of the parked car's window. "That looks like some summon-all-fucked-up-shit-and-kill-everyone stuff right there. I'd like to stay in the car, thank you very much."