Story Page 2

Another Happy Excerpt from a story of MINE!

Angel’s Fall


     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 Although, the restrictions against that sort of thing were no longer applicable to him.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...