Par 4 for the Beast

The "Pirate’s Cove Mini-Golf and Fun Zone" had been abandoned since the 90s, mostly because children kept disappearing near the clown hole.

The fog rolled in off the ocean, obscuring the peeling paint of the giant fiberglass octopus. Jax and Zarkon/Kevin crept through the course, stepping over weeds and discarded soda cans.

"This place reeks of avarice," Zarkon whispered.

"That’s the shark," Jax said. He checked his pockets. Salt, iron, lighter. Not enough for a greed demon of this caliber.

They reached the 18th hole—a windmill with rotating blades. Standing on the green, leaning on a putter made of solid gold, was the Shark.

He was seven feet tall, with gray, sandpaper skin, a dorsal fin cutting through the back of his Italian silk suit, and rows of serrated teeth that gleamed in the moonlight.

"Jax Vane," the Shark rumbled. His voice sounded like money being counted. "And... oh, delicious. A two-for-one special. A soul stuffed with a spicy demon filling."

"Hey, Sharky," Jax said, keeping his distance. "We’re just here for the fidget spinner instruction manual. You have it?"

The Shark chuckled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment. "The Unbinding Scroll. Yes. Very rare. Very valuable."

"Give it to us, foul creature!" Zarkon shouted. He tried to lunge, but Kevin’s asthma kicked in and he wheezed instead.

"I don't give," the Shark smiled, stepping closer. "I lend. And the collateral is... you."

The Shark moved with terrifying speed. He swung the gold putter. Jax ducked, but the Shark’s tail whipped around and caught him in the chest. Jax flew backward, crashing into a fiberglass treasure chest.

Zarkon tried to summon a fireball, but all that came out was a pathetic spark. "Curse this low-mana environment!"

The Shark grabbed Zarkon by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Kevin’s legs dangled helplessly.

"A demon lord," the Shark sniffed. "I’ll extract you, bottle you, and sell you as an energy drink to warlocks. And the accountant? I’ll eat him as an appetizer."

Jax groaned, trying to stand. His ribs felt cracked. He looked at the Shark, then at Zarkon.

"Hey!" Jax yelled.

The Shark turned.

Jax held up his hands. "I’m out."

Zarkon’s eyes widened. "What?"

"I’m a freelancer," Jax said, backing away toward the shadows. "I don't do pro-bono dying. You’re on your own, Kevin. Nice knowing you, Zarkon."

"You coward!" Zarkon screamed. "You rude, treacherous worm!"

Jax didn't look back. He turned and sprinted into the fog, disappearing behind the animatronic parrot.

Kevin began to cry. Zarkon roared in impotent fury.

The Shark laughed, opening his jaws wide. "Smart man. He knows when to fold."