Page 17 of Hollow

“I would like that very much,” Dimitri said, taking a bite of his lasagna. “May I ask another question about the pumpkin?”

Jack gulped, unsure if he wanted to proceed, but Dimitri’s genuine curiosity held no judgment, and that sparked a bit of courage in Jack.

“Absolutely. Ask away.”

“Is it difficult eating with the pumpkin?”

“No, I’m used to it,” Jack answered, quickly scooping a big bite of lasagna into his mouth before dropping the mask to hide while he chewed. “It’s more of a headache when I fall asleep with it on.”

“Oh, so you wear it a lot?” Dimitri studied Jack, seemingly to analyze Jack’s shadowy expression, which only made his nervous grin grow wider. “But you do not require the pumpkin to function?”

“What? No, I mean, it’s not like a part of me, but it’s a creature comfort, you know?”

Dimitri gave Jack this sincere knowing nod. “I believe I do.”

Jack contemplated sharing the purpose of the pumpkin, the magic woven into the mask, the reason he wore it almost all the time. Then the door flung open, and Astaroth barged inside.

“I have finished off my foe and require sustenance.” He pranced inside. “Prepare me a feast fit for a king.”

Jack frowned. “Gimme a second to feed him.”

“No,” Dimitri said with a raised hand in protest as he leapt out of his seat. “You have cooked this glorious meal. Allow me to feed the dog.”

Dimitri shuffled toward the dry food on a countertop in front of Astaroth’s empty metal bowl on the floor.

“Ten scoops,” Jack said. “Demon possession burns calories pretty fast.”

“We have the metabolism mortals would envy,” Astaroth boasted.

Dimitri grabbed the cup from the bag with a scoop of dry food and prepared Astaroth’s meal.

“The audacity,” Astaroth scoffed. “You think the brown pebbles alone shall satiate me? After my conquest of torture, my voyage of carnage, my⁠—”

“For Christ’s sake,” Jack shouted. “He has doggy gravy packets in the upper cabinet.”

Dimitri opened the cabinet above the bag of dry food, pulling out a few different flavors of the gravy packets.

“He gets two max.”

“Are these the right ones?” Dimitri asked. “They say they are for puppies. Are the ingredients identical to doggies, or are these older from when he perhaps possessed a puppy?”

“Oh no, those are the right flavors. He just has a sensitive stomach because he’s a little bitch,” Jack said, making a mocking expression at Astaroth.

“My stomach is the most refined stomach that has ever stomached,” Astaroth replied with a stern squint in his gaze. “I merely prefer the juvenile flavors.”

Dimitri finished preparing the meal and moved aside for Astaroth.

“May I ask a question?”

Astaroth eyed Dimitri up and down. “You may, peasant.”

“What happened to Irvin? I assume you have finished your torment of him. How did he⁠—”

“Who?” Astaroth cocked his head, and his ears flopped.

“The hunter you dragged away.”

“Oh, he was such a bore, that one. Barely made it six days. I ended up venturing elsewhere for entertainment,” Astaroth explained. “Who requires both their lungs to breathe? Utterly ridiculous.”