CHAPTER 036: The Ohio Asylum arc- BLOCK 6, pt. 2

"Aw, we found him. Good, now I can sleep."

While Dusty and mister Whiskers fell asleep from exhaustion, the rest of the teenagers plus Dmitri entered Block 6.

"Who are you," Dmitri asked a loud. The Drummer did not react, continuing to play basketball.

"I don't think he can hear you," Sandra said.

"Yeah, I think this glass is sound proof," Juniper added while knocking upon the booth's windows.

After a minute or two of fiddling around, they opened the door connecting it to the exercise yard.

"Oh, hey guys," the Drummer responded, finally acknowledging their presence.

"How'd you get down here," Juniper found herself asking.

"Talk about a long story. Basically, when we split up in the central tower, I went in search of the control room. I eventually found the place, but all the footage was gone! I was just about to regroup with you all, after that, when I stumbled upon a mail chute going straight down."

He pointed to the roof of the guard booth, where the other end of the chute in question could be seen.

"I wound up down here, as a result. Since the door was locked, I decided to wait until you all found me."

As he gave excuse after excuse, Dmitri thought hard about anything which could give him an edge, Suddenly, a Christmas party held several years back for the All Star League flooded his mind.

Her Majesty, having far too much to drink, was complaining about her children to him. Something happened in between shots to change the conversation, as she suddenly began speaking on demonic entities.

"Listen, demons are easy pickings! If it's an imp, all you have to do is chant 'go away, go away! Come again on a rainy day!'"

"An imp? You mean those little guys with wings and pointed tails?"

"No, I mean an unnamed demon. You'd be better off running if you encounter one with a name; they're hardly the same creature anymore, at that point."

Back in reality, Dmitri chanted the phrase in a whispered tone. It did nothing, save for attracting the Mystery Drummer's attention.

"Who's this gentleman? A new band mate?"

"No, he's an undercover hero. Whiskers' ran into him upstairs, and he's helped get us back together since then."

"Oh, I must thank you sincerely for your assistance... How about this? I discovered a single tape of security camera footage when I arrived down here. Let me play it, see if it helps your investigation."

CLICK!

The CRT television in the booth flickered on, displaying a scene from the night of the riot. The camera's position was angled towards the exercise yard, revealing a CRT television right at the half court line.

A figure entered the exercise yard, his outfit a set of patient scrubs. His face, however, appeared only as a blur on camera. It resembled a photo where the person shook their head right as the shutter was pressed.

The television in the exercise yard flicked on at his entrance, revealing the face of Dr. Richardson.

"Morning warden, come to taunt me again?"

"... I need your help," he suddenly asked, his bowing head visible through the TV.

"Hey, hey, this isn't fun if you act sincere. Can't you at least give a maniacal laugh or something?

"I don't have time! My daughter is down there!"

The blurry faced figure fell into thought at this comment. Then, not wanting to skip the theatrics, he gave his own maniacal laugh.

"HA! So, now you need my help! I bet you wish you didn't ban taco Tuesdays now, didn't you?"

"Enough! State your demands, cad!"

"I want release," the blurry man took not but a second to state his demand.

"... I can do that, but not immediately!"

"I'm listening..."

"You rescue her, and stop the riot. In exchange, I redact your file to hell and back. Then, I transfer you to a minimum security psychiatric hospital, and you'll probably see release a year or two later."

"Too slow..."

"What? If I release you right now, you'll just wind up somewhere like this again. We've got to game you out of the system if you don't want to be looking over your shoulder quite as hard."

".... Fine. What about the guards?"

"I trust Henry there in Block 6. Treat all others as double agents."

"Tehehe, It was a pleasure doing business with you, warden."

CLICK!

"Do you think that was the Block 6 Butcher?"

Dmitri missed Juniper's question, as he was too busy trying to remember that Christmas eve atop Sky Breaker tower. Finally, he remembered it.

The empty shot glasses had multiplied fruitfully, and the two were currently attempting to erect a pyramid from them.

Dmitri suddenly asked, "Is there a way to stop a named demon?"

"With your strength? No, no chance."

"Come on, there has to be something. Even if it'll just help me run away, anything helps."

"Fine, I know a few names. If you find yourself in danger, call this lady; since she's not well liked, it'll probably flee just hearing the first syllable..."

"Might as well give it a try," the veteran hero thought before whispering once more. This time, however, everyone could hear it.

"Clatu Vera Cruz. Nikoteen del Adelia!"

"What was that? A Sneeze? Here, have a tiss..."

"Sleep!"

At the Mystery Drummer's command, the other teenagers fell into slumber.

"Now, Lead-foot!"

Juniper's sleeping eyes shot open but, just as suddenly, several chains rose from the concrete like earth worms greeting a rainy day. They quickly wrapped around her, binding the ghost in place.

Instantly, the last of her Majesty's tips from that night came to mind.

"Now make sure you remember that name properly; it is very dangerous to get it wrong. Oh, and if it is a titled demon, forget everything I said earlier."

"What's so special about a titled demon?"

"You could call them the upper management of hell's hierarchy. Should you ever encounter one, don't offend it!"

"Let's have a talk, mister Dmitri," the Mystery Drummer said, his tone making it more of a declaration. In his outstretched hand, a business card appeared. It read,

"Crossroads Devil: Northwest Hemisphere Director of Sales."

"Aw, can you forget those earlier outbursts?"

His face, although completed obscured by the mask, seemed to say no.