When Simon woke up, his hospital room was dark and smelled bad. Kind of like the smell you get when you burn your nose hairs lighting a cigarette.
Well, fuck. That didn’t go to plan, now did it?
The last thing he remembered was telling his date, Drusilla, all about his two weeks as a zookeeper’s assistant in New Orleans. So, how did he end up here?
Oh…wait.
A flash of purple, orangey, hot, light? No. That can’t be right. Who would have the balls to show off that kind of magic in a hokey lil tavern in nowhere special Redbough?
Who indeed?
That fucking Professor! Butting in. Again. I swear, when I catch him he’s going to be sorry he ever started on my darling Drusilla.
Destroying her is my fucking job!
And what is that bloody awful smell?
Simon slowly dragged his legs over the side of the bed and looked around. It was a typical single hospital room, with all the usual things you’d expect to find. A bed, an overbed table, plugs, tubes, bright lights, bedpan. None of which he was attached to. He was wearing the typical hospital paper bracelet, but that was it.
Simon did a quick body scan and couldn’t feel an injury, or pain, anywhere. Maybe he was sick? Maybe there was some kind of virus doing the rounds? Whatever. He felt fine.
Simon stood up.
Simon promptly fell to the ground.
Okay. It seems I’m not feeling so good after all. The room’s spinning a bit. Might just stay here for a while. Have a nap.
Seriously, what is that fucking smell? Burning cinnamon? Barbecued foot fungus?
He opened his eyes, waited for the nausea to pass, and tried to look around the floor without turning his head too much.
There it was. In the corner. Actually, it was kinda cute. A three-inch tall…um…demon? He could see it was trying to speak to him, but three- inch tall demons can’t talk very loudly, apparently.
“Look, dude, if you’re trying to tell me something you’re going to have to come closer. I can’t hear a thing you’re saying from over there.”
Suddenly, the little bastard was standing right in front of his face, yelling at him.
The problem was, Simon didn’t speak three-inch demon. He could barely cope with his native English.
“Dude. I don’t know what you’re saying. At all. But, you do seem quite worked up about it, whatever it is. You’re a demon, surely you can speak English?”
And then it was gone.
It took Simon a few seconds to realize that the demon was gone from in front of his face, because he’d jumped into his ear!
“Dude! What the fuck! GET OUT!!!
“No. I will not. I can not. You brought this on yourself. I told you, and told you, to run but you didn’t. You just stayed there, lying on the floor like you were some kind of hospital patient that had fallen over. Now you’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”
“What do you mean I’m stuck with you? You got IN my head so you can get OUT of my head! Just crawl out my ear!”
“You’re a bit slow, aren’t you? I just told you, I can’t. Once a Deraginon Demon is inside your head, it stays inside your head. Capice?
Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. That’s what I was trying to tell you, but you said you couldn’t hear me or some such nonsense. And now, because you were stupid enough to say the magic word, we’re both stuck.”
“Magic word? What? Please? I never say please. And I’m damn sure I didn’t say please to you! And how come you can speak English now, when you couldn’t a minute ago?”
“No, you halfwit! You said closer! Closer! You never say closer to a Deraginon Demon. Everybody knows that! And I could speak English a minute ago, I just didn’t because I tend to break into Deraginese when I’m upset. And trust me, I was really upset at the thought of getting stuck in your head! What kind of a demigod gets himself poofed into a hospital room by a self-obsessed, one track minded, magical professor with a revenge fetish?”
Deraginon Demon? Demigod? Poofed?
It was at that point, that Simon realized whatever had put him in the hospital had now become the least of his problems.