He came
upon the demons while they were arguing outside of the bookstore. The two
were just about to enter. Why, he didn’t care. After two days of tracking
down these particular demons, he was going to be satisfied with just flaming
them back to whatever pit they came from. He cleared his mind and prepared
himself for the conflict that was about to unfold. He felt a little of
the old excitement coming back to him. It had been over a year since he
had directly taken a hand in the affairs of the people, and the return
to the old work might once again give him a sense of purpose.
The first
demon was hissing something at its partner in what he recognized as the
common language of the hells. With the body of a very pretty young redheaded
teen, the demon was probably a succubus or other high-level pit spawn.
He grimly reminded himself to watch out for her nails, and slowly descended
down the fire escape towards the two.
The other
one looked like a thirty-year-old weightlifter professional. Odds were
against this being anything tough though. Demons were strange. The most
terrible ones were the subtlest ones. Any fucker that was stupid enough
to wear a skinsuit like that one was most likely your garden variety Imp.
A low-level thug good only for an extra hand, and even then not a good
one.
His boots
clicked quietly against the steps as he felt his way forward. He wanted
no noise to give him away as he creeped down the railings. The slightest
noise and the demons would either vanish or try and nail him. Odds were
though; they had no idea what they were dealing with. Maybe even the redhead
would try and kiss him. He mentally made another note to not let her mouth
get anywhere near him. Although, the restrictions against that sort of
thing were no longer applicable to him.
His luck
held out until he was on the third flight of steps. Some little kid had
left a coke can underneath one of the steps near the switchback part of
the escape. His left boot tapped it and it flashed once before plummeting
straight down onto the pavement. The second he had registered the flash,
he simply flung himself over the railing one handed, his favorite coat
flapping out like two wings. He followed the can into the alley below.
Hands outstretched and cursing inside. Sometimes he wished he had his wings
back.
Both demons
were admirable in their reactions. Though there were few laws that applied
to demons, staying unseen was one they all tried to keep to heart. Let
it slip for a second that the supernatural was starting to get pretty natural,
and who knows what the people could do. The redhead flashed backwards against
the wall and quickly slid from sight while the muscleboy leaped back five
feet and looked wildly around. One of the people would have merely mistaken
his quickly moving head as being merely fast, but it was superhuman how
the demon picked up the falling form of the man from above.
He hit
the pavement and let his left leg flex enough to drop him off balance.
He rolled left underneath the demon’s air splitting kick, and came up standing.
Both hands dropped to his sides and hung limp, his coat swirling around
his legs.
The muscleboy
smiled and raised both hands to hip level. Then, the demon sniffed the
air.
"Hoya
little man. What have we here?" the demon asked. Inside the hunter grinned.
The poor thing thought he was one of the people. Just a regular little
sucker who happened to fall three stories into the middle of a demonic
conversation. Talk about dumb.
"Would
you believe the Police?" he asked back.
Quickly
he blocked the three superfast punches with his forearms. There were lightning
fast cracks as the edges of his coat sleeves snapped from the speed. The
expression on muscleboy’s face never even changed. Another thing about
Imps he had forgotten, they were incapable of fright.
"Guess
not," he said slowly dragging his right leg a few more inches to the right.
He kept the eye to eye contact but let the rest of his senses spread out
searching for the teen. He hadn’t seen which way the redhead had vanished
to and wanted to make sure that his back was clear. He also didn’t want
anyone to walk up to their little party here. It was going to be tough
enough protecting himself much less someone who moved regular speed.
"What
are you boy?" the Imp asked. The blocks had partly given him away. None
of the people could have done those. In another second he was going to
give the Imp another demonstration of something else none of the people,
except Jacky Chan maybe, could do.
"Homeless
Vet," he said as he shifted his weight back onto the right leg. He quickly
did another scan and made sure that no one else was going to rain on the
dance. Then, he bunched the muscles underneath his bluejeans and let the
muscles there explode. He became a leather colored blur.
He flashed
back against the wall, both boots catching him and legs folding until the
knees to his jeans tapped his chest for the barest instant. Then, he straightened
hurling himself six feet above the ground flying across the alley like
superman. Both arms outstretched in front of him. The Imp had mistaken
it for an escape maneuver and had managed to take a step forward with one
fist cocked back to strike. Too bad one of his tricks wasn’t matching speed
with the hunter.
Both hands
wrapped around the thick neck of the startled demon, and he did a little
internal energy shifting. His inertia became the Imps inertia. He flipped
and both boots touched easily to the pavement as he hurled the Demon with
all his power headfirst at the wall he had jumped at. The Imp’s hands were
still trying to fly upward to claw off his grip as he released the soon
to be dead Imp. It crashed into the brick wall of the bookstore with an
amazing sick crunch.
The effect
was similar to decapitation. Just a lot more showy.
"I think
you enjoyed that a little too much," the redhead said as she stepped out
from behind a pile of cardboard boxes. Both hands held knives and there
was also a gun strapped to her side. He ignored her and watched the body
slowly thump to the ground. The smear left behind looked almost like a
screaming face. It always took awhile for the poor things to realize they
had been killed.
"And if
I did?" he asked back. Conversing with the enemy. Oh well. Just a few more
years he would have to work off of his eternal punishment.
"Then
you sure ain’t one of the regular do gooders," she said back. "Normally
its convert before the splatter part. Mind telling what the fuck you are?"
"Already
told him."
"You are
not a norm," she stated sliding sideways. One hand had holstered a knife
behind her back and then drawn the gun. He had no illusions about how fast
she could fire. She looked so sleek that she probably had to slow down
to give the gun time to cycle fully between shots.
"So shoot
me," he said sarcastically. He made sure to raise an eyebrow so she knew
he didn’t mean it literally. This was probably going to be the first interesting
conversation he would get in around another ten years.
"And you
don’t smell clean."
"I washed
this morning."
"So you
must fall in one of the other categories. Magician, Vampire, Revenant,
or fucking weirdo. So which is it funny boy?"
"Could
I take answer number five, none of the above?"
"Could
I shoot you and see if you bleed and get the vamp part over with?" she
asked right back.
"Hey calm
down. We’re about to fight to the death here. No need to get nasty."
"I think
I would almost prefer you to be one of the birdbrains," she hissed. Quickly
she pulled the trigger five times before the last word ended. Almost caught
him completely off guard. He couldn’t really look her in the eyes, so he
couldn’t get a good feeling as to her intents. He had to rely on outperforming
her muscles and watch her trigger finger. He almost failed. She was quick.
The first
shot put a hole through the side of his coat as he blurred to the side
out of the way of the first two shots. The next three she corrected for
and he was forced use a little of his sparse power to manage to avoid being
shot. Not that he didn’t mind the pain; just that he really liked the coat
and didn’t need anymore holes in it.
"Homeless
Vet is the truth sister," he said. He could feel her gaze narrowing. Funny
thing about demons. They couldn’t take half of what they tried to dish
out. And a short temper never lends itself well to a battle of wits.
"Clarify
before I decide to burn you where you stand," she hissed with low tones.
Not surprisingly he saw her left hand burst into a purple ball of flame.
Always leave it to a demon to up the stakes a little more than was required.
"Ever
heard of Lucifer?" he asked.
The flame
went out. The finger tightened on the trigger, and once more he had to
vanish. Problem was there were too many objects nearby for him to do an
adequate dance away from the blasts. He had to use a few more old karate
movie tricks and flung himself back up onto the fire escape that he had
jumped from.
"That
just might explain it," she said when the top of the pistol cocked back
and forgot to slide forward. He grinned wickedly from where he perched.
Time for her to go for the knives now, he thought. Odds were against these
being regular street knives either. Further, it was also a good bet that
knives were her personal favorite too. Succubae tended to like using close-in
fighting weapons. It was what succubae were all about. Getting close.
Something
flashed through the air towards his head and he simply rolled forward off
of the landing. He almost got nailed halfway down when the other dagger
appeared in a twinkling flash arrowing right towards his mid section. A
little internal shift and he curled around the flashing blade.
When he
hit the ground standing, the knives glittered from her clenched fists.
Like he had thought. Magical blades. Definitely something he didn’t want
to get tagged with. Now he had a problem. How to get close to one of the
universe’s most deadly in-fighters without getting slaughtered.
At times
like this he missed his old sword.
"Oh aren’t
you a pretty thing?" she asked as she slid away from where she had been
standing the whole time. He looked at her midsection for shifts in balance,
and waited for her to get closer.
"I could
just eat you up," she whispered as she slid within ten feet of him. There
she paused and commenced to weave a glittering web of steel between her
and him. If he even tried a flashy kick it looked like she would simply
cut him out of the air and mail the pieces down to her masters.
"You ever
wonder why we get stuck in these situations?" he asked her.
"Bad script
work by the big guy," she laughed out.
"Sure
you don’t want me to buy you a beer and just have a talk?" he joked back.
The glittering
knives paused for a bare second as she actually thought about that. He
could almost feel the grin.
"Now I
see why you’re homeless. A smart ass like you, not even Urgaqai would put
up with you."
"My one
failing point. Oh well, don’t tell anyone I didn’t at least offer a drink
before we danced."
Power flickered
and crashed in the back of the alley. White light pulsed from his arms
in random strobes. Each flashing strike further weakened the two flashing
blades until finally one exploded into metal shards. Instantly her black
painted nails slid out into eight-inch long straight claws. One backhand
sweep from those ripped straight through his jacket and into the skin of
his left forearm. Pain flashed up and down along his arm. Felt like it
was burning and freezing at the same time.
One of
his glowing fists caught her on the inside of her right arm’s elbow and
spun her away. She twirled into a guard position and let the broken arm
hang. Her hair began levitating around her head, whipping back and forth
from her anger. She hurled the remaining knife at him and then let the
left hand’s nails also lengthen. With a crack her arm healed and she whipped
the hands back and forth.
He palm
slapped the knife from the air and ran at her, arms weaving a distracting
pattern of light around him. His jacket began whipping back and forth like
it was caught in the middle of a tornado.
She flung
herself at him screeching like a cat, purple glowing needles of light erupting
from her writhing hair straight at him. Her claws whipping through the
air actually screeching along with her as the air parted from their force
and speed.
He brought
both palms together and a bright flashed consumed the glowing needle storm.
Clenching both fists together he formed part of the power around him into
a diamond shaped wedge in front of him like a wall. A wall between him
and her. Most important between him and the claws.
Sparks
erupted from the air between them as she clawed at the barrier before leaping
back from it. Purple waves flowed along its edges. Her hands were once
again crawling with the purple flames she had displayed earlier.
He whipped
around in a twirl and let most of his energy gather in his fingertips.
While he couldn’t make claws like true demonspawn, he could fake it with
some tricks he had picked up in the many fights he had been in. Tiny stars
appeared at the very tip of each finger.
His fingers
left behind trails of glowing light as he ran at her. Arms weaving and
fingers flexing in a motion that confused her. The trails left behind formed
a strange pattern like the after images of bright lights left behind on
a person’s retina after a Pink Floyd laser show. She stumbled back flexing
and clawing out at him as he emerged running from behind the lights. His
arms were stretched out behind him like he thought he was a bird.
She pivoted
and thrust both hands straight for his onrushing chest; throwing her upper
body forward and looking down to get the full extension of her arms behind
it. Knees flexed gracefully and her hair whipped up and down to follow
the arc of her head. The claws fairly screamed from the force.
No impact
registered and she instantly rolled to the side. She caught the sound of
the edge of his coat cracking through the air as he passed over her. She
tucked and rolled coming up with claws flashing up to guard her.
He stood
smiling and standing about ten feet behind where she had been. Glowing
fingertips held up above his head pointing.
She looked.
Both fists
cannoned into her. The first smashing into her unprotected stomach and
doubling her over. The second rising quickly in a shattering uppercut that
broke her jaw and hurled her back a few feet. It was impossible for anything
to have cleared the distance in the blink of an eye. But somehow he had
simply moved across the ten feet instantly. Maybe even a little faster
than that.
She crumpled
and dropped. Blood suddenly erupting from her mouth. Pain washed up and
down her body as she fought to breathe through the blood that suddenly
filled her nose and throat. His first punch had blasted all the air from
her lungs and probably snapped some of her ribs too. When she managed to
get her hair out of her face she found that he had vanished. A premonition
caused her to look up.
His coat
was flapping around him as he came down with his right leg extended and
the foot pointing in presenting the unyielding edge of a leather boot.
She managed to get an arm up and put all her strength into the block. Purple
light flashed from the contact and her arm snapped like a dry twig. His
knee was suddenly pressed against her throat and the glowing edge of one
of his fingertips filled her vision.
"Shit,"
she gurgled before the fingers disappeared.
"You know,
maybe I should buy you a drink?" he said in wonder.
One fist
cocked back and then filled her world with blackness.
For the
fist time in ten years he felt happy. And that was a rare thing outside
of the hunt anymore. Not many had ever taken a demon alive. Then again,
not many could take on a succubus in a fistfight and come out with only
the minor wounds he had. Still, he had to go somewhere and heal. The poison
from he strikes was already weakening him more. He could feel the scratches
burning from an internal fire. A few more hours and actual flame might
just erupt from them. He had seen weirder stuff before.
He gathered
the rapidly healing demon and quickly gathered all his energy into his
right arm. Pressing his palm over where her heart should be he released
all the glowing energy into her system. He could almost see the ripples
of the energy wash through her body. That would slow her down.
Quickly
he slung her over his shoulder and jumped weakly back up onto the lower
landing to the fire escape. He ran up the rails and back onto the roof.
Stupid demons. They should know better than to mess with books. Not like
half of them could read anymore anyway.
It was a short run down to his car. A beat up old Buick. Quickly he tossed
her in the backseat and tried to gauge how fast she was healing after that
last punch. Looked like she would be out for at least another hour. By
then she would be perfectly healed while he would be shivering and sweating
out the poison. It was almost funny. His kind were so fragile compared
to demons. It was almost unfair how the damned could heal so quickly.
He drove
fast risking a ticket. His quick leaps and turns caused drivers around
him to panic, and he was sure a few people were going to buy guns the very
next day because of him. He had to hurry though. Once he reached his apartment
he had very little time.
On the
outskirts of the city he quickly reached his rented house. In a quiet neighborhood
down a little used side street. He pulled into the garage and made sure
the door closed before he grabbed his passenger. He almost stumbled as
he draped her over his shoulder and rushed inside. He could actually feel
her muscles bunching and then relaxing underneath her skin. It was like
the flesh knew where he was going to take her.
The living
room.
If
anyone ever broke in, they would probably get caught standing in the middle
of the living room curled in a ball. There was white, and then there was
White. Candles, curtains, table, and altar. It was all perfectly blank
white. The candlelight at least should have cast some shadows but for some
reason the place just glowed. But not with a holy light. He didn’t trust
holy anymore. This was just pure unreasoning white. Sort of like white
noise.
Nothing
could see in, and nothing could see out. It was like a giant null power
spot. No shadows for demons to flicker-flash in from, and no crosses for
the other side to use to get in. It was one vast blank spot between everything.
A void of unreasoning purity.
He found
it a hell of a great place to meditate. It would probably be just as peaceful
for her too. As soon as he recovered from the battle.
Settling
on expediency he simply chained her into a chair that he retrieved from
the kitchen. Loops of chains that normally secured his weapons locker wrapped
around and around her. He used giant metal PCP crack addict holding handcuffs
to secure her arms and her legs. Then he grabbed a leather belt and tightened
it tight around her neck and the back of the chair. This way she couldn’t
lean her head too far forward without choking herself trying to get out.
Her eyes
flickered as he finished securing her to the chair. She even groaned as
he dragged one of the few white mats he had lying around over to the bare
ground at the center of the room. He closed the doors and lit the candles,
and the room became a sea of white.
She regained
consciousness as he lost it.
Pain to
a regular person is identified quickly as damage to the body. What the
person chooses to do with it after that is a personal thing. But it is
not like there are a whole lot of options out there for the programmed
behavior of people. Some people fear the pain. Others have actually twisted
themselves to like the pain. But only one true reaction is not just a delusional
side effect of living in these troubled times. And, that is simply to accept
the pain. Pain is nothing other than the feeling of damage. Mental or physical.
You simply have to acknowledge that it is there, and then let it simply
do its job as you do yours.
As he
floated in a vast blood red tainted void, he felt the pain begin. Slow
creeping pulses began like a sonorous bass beat that started off to a really
good song. Probably one from Tool with the way that this bass beat was
creeping in harder and harder.
The whole
void around him began flashing wildly with giant crackles of forked red
lightning. With each crack and flash, a jagged pulse of intense flaring
pain hit him. It had all the subtlety of a simple smack to the face. Wham,
crack, and then you got to wait. It was just that this game was like playing
blindfolded. It gave you no chance to tense up and prepare for the pain.
He felt
a slow burning sensation begin, which was strange since during periods
of time like this spent within the hollow bone prison of his skull, he
floated merely as a spiritual creature without a body.
Time here
was subjective. This was a place of punishment, and part of the punishment
was in seeing how long you could take it. Never had the pain crept up before.
Its just appeared, full and heady.
Purple
flashes began and a sudden bright flash of pain as something pierced his
chest and erupted out of his back. No visuals to accompany that however,
just the feeling that something had spiked him and left him to squirm.
Each flash felt like another thin spike driving through him to nail him
in place.
Often
he found that he could even enjoy some of the stuff that happened in the
void here. That scared him most of all. That in a place of punishment,
pleasure was sometimes the worst tool. When you felt the first orgasm at
being flayed alive, you began to slowly doubt if you should be allowed
out onto the streets with the rest of the universe. Of course, it was probably
for the guilt. Guilt was another type of pain here. You could actually
feel it crushing your shoulders as it settled down upon you.
A bright
teal streak appeared and he felt as if his right hand had been severed
at the wrist. Once again he felt like screaming, but ethereal creatures
had no mouth to vent the pain. Another way that the void within his mind
punished. No chance to vent any pain, because here was absolution through
pain.
And the
Creator knew, he had a hell of a lot to absolve...