Page 40 of Hellfire & Tinsel
Attempt two had him gritting his teeth.
Attempt three had smoke flying out of his nose.
Attempt four made his vision go red.
By attempt five he was ready to burn the whole stall to the ground.
It was… it was…infuriating!
The hooks were minuscule and the pole was cumbersome. This human body was restrictive and awful. The ducks smiled endlessly and made him want to commit a thousand sins just to wipe the grins from their faces.
Why did humans do this voluntarily? It was torture. He knew it intimately enough to recognize it.
“Ah, too bad, big guy.” The booth owner’s face was entirely too gleeful, his soul full of malice. Kassel knew that as soon as he got him on his rack downstairs, he was going to make him suffer endlessly.
“It’s a sin to cheat,” Kassel told him.
“Who’s cheating, fella?” The guy laughed, grabbing another pole from behind the booth and hooking a duck effortlessly. Beau ‘ooohed’ and the guy smirked again. “You just need skill.”
Kassel ground his teeth and turned to Beau. “There’s still money left from what I gave you?”
“You gave me hundreds of dollars I keep pulling out of the most random places,” Beau said. “Obviously I still have it.”
“Again, then.” Kassel pointed to the game.
“You don’t have to. Really,” Beau said sweetly. “I can live without the duck.”
“Again,” Kassel said.
Beau handed over the money.
This time Kassel locked in, entirely focused. He’d never been competitive, never understood it. There was something about this, however, that wouldn’t let him quit, even through the suffering. He didn’t even want to use demonic energy to help.
He needed to do this alone.
Three attempts in and this human body was sweating. Beau was rubbing his back in support, silently trying to cheer him on.
On his last attempt, the duck caught the end of the hook and Kassel felt a rush of elation so swift it nearly sent him fallingover… only for the plastic thing to suddenly bob off in a different direction.
He swore in his mother tongue. Loudly and colorfully.
It was the devil’s work. Kassel was sure of it. He glanced around them to see if he could spot Luc laughing in the background at his expense. He’d been known to play pranks a few centuries ago.
“For another twenty dollars you can try again,” the guy said, leaning against the leg of the booth’s awning, counting through his money one bill at a time.
Kassel felt a rage he had never experienced before descend upon him like a fiery storm. Fierce. Hot. Wrathful. He took the hook and snapped the curved end cleanly, leaving a jagged pointed tip. He used this to spear the smiling duck viciously right through its head.
He dented the bottom of the basin, water beginning to drip from the new hole he’d just pierced, the rest of the ducks experiencing a small tsunami.
Kassel pulled his prize back toward him, duck held aloft on his spear, victorious and triumphant, the stupid duck deflated and pathetic.
Victory!
He looked back at the now slack-jawed man.
“The purple duck,” Kassel demanded.
“You can’t—”
