I opted for the trudging option across the beach, much to the Grashuyk’s frustration. On a couple of occasions, he hissed at me to hurry up. I made a half-arsed effort to comply. Though my fake enthusiasm didn’t actually carry me any faster as I dug my feet further into the sand.

As we went, I desperately hoped to catch the eye of a passerby. There were a few dog walkers, and joggers out and about. Most of them ignored us completely. Absorbed in their own little worlds.

On the two occasions someone did pay attention to the evil little Ninja and me, I tried to non-verbally communicate that I was in trouble. Each occasion, unsurprisingly, resulted in the same response. They looked away terrified, and quickened their pace. I accept that I most likely looked like an overly enthusiastic crack head in my current state.

I kept trying, but deep down I knew my only hopes were that either Mal would rock up, or the police would be called to investigate the weirdo on the beach. The latter option was more likely, as I considered the message, I’d toe’d out. In hindsight, it was fucking nonsense.

I hadn’t discounted attacking Grashuyk solo. The little bastard was going to get a pasting even if I died delivering it. I wasn’t going out of this world like a wet fart.

Just, now just wasn’t the time. I’d been on the back foot since this demon asshole, drop-kicked me.

If it were just another bloke, I’d have had a go by now, but having felt how strong and fast he was on top of the fact that he was a fucking demon. Nope, I’d hold on as long as I could before I went that route. I still felt like dogshit stepped in twice.

Apart from my occasional eyebrow dance at passers-by, I scanned the pebble strewn beach for opportunities. Eyeing up heavy rocks and sturdy looking lengths of driftwood as we came ever closer to the restaurant.

If we could find this fucking book and he let me go, that’d be great, but I was pretty confident he was going to do me in, once I ceased to be useful.

As we approached the restaurant situated at the entrance to Roker pier, we ascended half a dozen worn concrete steps from the beach onto the promenade. The building was painted a heavily weathered yet still gaudy bright blue, capped with a red-tiled roof. Two-stories tall with all of the windows and doors currently boarded up. It had a dejected look, but I still felt a swell of pride that I’d been able to raise the funds to buy the place. If anything, it gave me an even greater incentive to live through today. I looked up at the sign above the door. It had said Falritas, but somebody had removed specific letters, so it now read Fa r t s. Classic comedy of the idle adolescent, that I just couldn’t appreciate right now. I was going to call it Clive’s Place. No fancy names. I’d let my food do the talking.

“In here?” Grashuyk asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Yeah. This is the place.” For some stupid reason, I almost suggested going around the back to break in as it would be less obvious. I needed a slap. What the fuck is wrong with you Clive! Keep it together man. I scolded myself silently.

The more people who witnessed this, the more chance there was for me to escape, or for the police to come.

Grashuyk began ripping off the boards that covered the door with his inhuman strength. I took a couple of careful steps back so I could get a good view of the road that ran along the promenade and the steep bank that sloped down to it.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw Mal striding down the bank. And he wasn’t alone. Boris his black Labrador strained at the leash by his side.

Labradors were normally pretty chill from my experience, but not Boris. He was a mean son of a bitch if he didn’t know you.

To either side, walked Daz and Joel. Two of our good friends who lived close by. They were all a similar height, a shade under six foot, with Mal being lean, Joel being chunkier with heavy shoulders from years laying brick. Daz didn’t do any physical work, nor did he believe in unessescary exercise and it showed.

Spotting me, he waved. I nodded in the direction of the Ninja in response, who thankfully couldn’t see the men on the bank yet. He’d cleared the doorway and was now faced with a hefty, padlocked chain that secured the doors. I allowed myself a small smile, knowing my friends would be here long before he got through this next obstacle.

Almost the moment I finished my self-satisfied smile the terrifying little git pulled a long, black Katana like blade from his robes.

For a moment, I thought he somehow knew about my reinforcements. That he was going to kill me and them as they came. I breathed a sigh of relief, as he spun it with a dangerous flourish and brought it down on the door, slicing clean through both chain wood and door locking mechanism with remarkable ease. I couldn’t comprehend how sharp and strong the blade must have been to achieve that, but I was a happy Clive when he slid it back into his robes.

He kicked the door open and looked at me. “In,” he said simply.

I risked a glance up the hill. From my position I could see that Mal, and the others had broken into a slow jog now. When they came piling in, I needed to make sure that Grashuyk couldn’t pull that damn sword back out. If he managed that, then we were all screwed.

It was time to man the fuck up and the thought that my friends might get seriously hurt because of me, was all the motivation I needed. Charging the little bastard as he entered the restaurant, he seemed to sense my sudden movement and spun around, hand moving to his robes, but he wasn’t quite fast enough as I barreled into him. He might have been strong, but I had some weight behind me, and we both fell into the restaurant.

He was striking at me as we fell, but he couldn’t get any power behind his shots, and when I landed on top of him, I unloaded everything I had into his well wrapped face. “Ground and pound time, baby,” I panted, feeling a quick victory without the help of my friends might be within my grasp.

I was mistaken. Somehow, the squirrelly little shit managed to get his feet up against my hips as I rained down furious vengeance. Next thing I knew, I was launched into the air with unbelievable force. It felt like I’d been kicked by a horse sized grasshopper.

I was so disorientated from the midair somersault I performed, that I had no idea where the floor was. So when I landed, I landed hard. Crashing into the floor on my coccyx and zero finesse.

From my back I watched as he hopped to his feet, his face covering now hanging open, showing what appeared to be an undamaged face, despite the beating I’d given him. His wide predator’s mouth split further as he grinned at me. Making the slow approach of a superior hunter stalking its prey.

Enter the cavalry. My three friends and Boris, burst into the restaurant. Grashuyk turned to face them, and I was torn between relief for me and fear for them.

As one, their faces tuned to horror, as they took in the terrifying visage of his face. I had to admit to being extremely proud as they still charged, acting so quickly that Grashuyk was still unable to pull out his sword.

Joel and Daz came in first, a few kicks and punches were exchanged, before they were both went spinning off to the sides in their own heaps of pain and injuries.

Mal was a moment behind, only because he was trying to get Boris off his leash. Realising how stupid that was as our other friends were sent flying, he let go of the leash and charged.

I regained my feet while I watched all of this and moved slightly slower back to the fight.

Grashuyk took a step back as he defended Mal’s wild left, right combo, responding with a thunderous palm strike to the chest, which propelled Mal backwards a good eight feet.

Boris was the first of us to have success, latching on Grashuyk’s arm with a mighty chomp. The demon hissed, unable to extract his arm from the dog’s mouth I saw he was about to gouge Boris’s eyes. Before he could, I had re-arrived and because of his distraction, I managed to land a solid right hand on the fucker. It was like hitting a brick wall, but at least he staggered. I tried to keep the intensity of my attack up, adrenaline and outrage fueling my weakened body. But even with Boris still latched onto his arm, it would have been over quickly again if the others hadn’t rejoined.

“Keep up the pressure,” I panted. “he’s got hidden weapons!”

They didn’t need telling twice, and we proceeded to kick ten pails of shit out of him while Boris continued to rag savagely at his arm.

When that very same arm tore free in a spray of black blood, we all stopped in shock at the visceral scene.

Grashuyk didn’t seem to give a shit about the loss of the arm though, as he performed a twisting backflip away from us, then ran deeper into the abandoned restaurant. For a moment, we all just gawked. I was the first to gather my wits.

“After him, lads, he’s a tricky son of a bitch and this won’t end till we fuck ‘im up properly,” I shouted as I took off in pursuit.

As we chased him through the kitchen, I saw him pulling something out from his robes. It was clearly difficult for him running and with just one arm, but I still didn’t want to face him with that sword. I wasn’t sure if it was worse that he pulled out the portal ring. Then he was around the next corner, the basement a dead end.

“Faster!” I roared. He’s trying to escape, and it’ll be worse for us if he does!” I shouted as we hurtled onward.

As we turned the corner to short corridor to the basement, I saw he was just at the steps down and we had almost caught him. As he descended, he held the ring in out front of him as he ran. The now familiar blue portal crackling to life in front of him.

Putting on a greater burst of speed to try and prevent him from going through and bringing that big demon back with him, he surprised me.

He spun on his heel, turning the ring around to face us.

The portal moved with the ring…

...four fucking idiots and a dog ran straight through it.