Team Jeff!
Shooting from a distance wasn't a terrible idea, with the arrows and all, it was that no one expected the demon-thing to decide to come closer - Hook simply smirked devilishly, his love for danger and adventure triggered, offering a, "'S quite alright, my lady," for the archer of the group. Then Swan threw a fireball, as he assumed she would, and it began to cook the beast - naturally, it smelled like the bowels of hell. Heart or brain seemed like a decent enough assumption too - every creature had squishy parts somewhere.
"I'll try not to flambé myself either, love," he said, and fighting a demon that was on fire would prove to be a challenge - swords were meant for somewhat close-range duels. But the thing was still charging, he had to just time it right. You couldn't throw a sword like a javelin, but with he and Snow in the front they were the barricade - he slashed at the demon's head, a striking blow, an expert calculation of blade impact and motion; he'd just been using the weapon for so long, it was an exact science for him.
Then he sort of halfway leaned, halfway danced back a bit, not wanting it to land on him as it wobbled. Most things couldn't survive without a head, but he wouldn't put anything past Marrowood and what it vomited out from the abyss at this rate. But surely with multiple blades hacking into it, that would be sufficient.