Title: Seven Devils
Author: Myde the Turk
Rating: T
Warnings: Violence, language, varying other things I can't remember at this point in time
Author's Note: Hello all! It's been a while. I've been working on this for a bit, and honestly this is kind of an experiment. I do hope you'll enjoy.

Summary: "The Seven Devils are after you, and won't stop until you're dead or worse." Jack Skipper, a private detective, has been targeted by a number of criminals and other that want him gone. With the help from several others, he must survive.


Prologue - Holy Water Cannot Help You Now

Jack Skipper sighed, setting down the report he was working on and rubbed at his eyes. He'd sent his junior partner home hours before, the young man's head bobbing as he attempted to read some missing persons reports.

"Private, go home, get some rest. You'll work better once you've slept for more than three hours in the last forty-eight." He held up a hand against Private's protests. "Nick, sleep for ten hours. I'll close up shop in an hour-" which was a lie, he was still there three hours later "- and rest then. I've got some minor filing to do so that I can cross-reference this case easier."

Private had frowned. "Fine. But I will know if you sleep here again, and I will send you home if I find you at your desk. You need sleep too," the young man said.

"Deal," Skipper replied. Private just narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly, going back to his desk to pack up. Once he was packed, he'd left, leaving Skipper in relative silence.

Relative being the key term, for as soon as Private had left, Skipper had turned on quiet music, just loud enough to hear, but still soft enough that it wasn't interfering with his work. A pause in the music was the only reason he heard the soft rap-tap-tap on his doorframe; the soft knocking wouldn't have been able to be heard over the music.

Carefully standing from his desk, Skipper silently palmed the gun usually taped underneath. He stopped just out of sight of the window of the door, waiting for the second set of knocks he knew was coming. They were still soft, but firmer, like the knocker knew he was there. With that, Skipper nodded to himself and opened the door cautiously inviting the person in.

"Kowalski what the deuce are you doing here this time of night?" Skipper demanded, staring the other man down.

Kowalski gave him an unruffled stare, simply stating, "The Seven Devils are after you, and won't stop until you're dead or worse."

An eyebrow raised violently in response. "Seven Devils?" he asked, hearing the capitals in Kowalski's tone.

Kowalski nodded. "From what I've found out, there are seven individuals looking to remove you from the stage and they've banded together to do so. Beyond that, nothing. It's all conjecture." He sighed. "May I come in?"

Skipper stepped back from the door. "Feel free." He turned his back to Kowalski, going back to his desk. "Any other news?" he asked.

"Gangs are getting restless. Especially the Rats. There's politics going on behind closed doors that could greatly affect how this city is run," Kowalski said, staring at the bookcase of case files.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"A crackdown on speaks, for one, and for another, they're pulling in Feds to deal with the gangs." Kowalski turned, staring at Skipper. "It isn't good news, and Feds showing up is a very persistent rumor. I'm inclined to believe it."

Skipper stared at the other man, taking in his worn appearance. "You're not a dick anymore, what's got you so ragged?"

"Spooks. Vesuvius twins. Ran them round the station twice 'fore I lost them." Kowalski gripped the side of the bookcase.

Skipper raised an eyebrow, staring at the tense motion. "You're the one who caused the commotion?"

Kowalski turned around and stared beyond Skipper. "Someone tripped them up." His eyes narrowed and one fist clenched.

"Who." It was a statement more than a question, as if Skipper already knew the answer.

"It was a favor. Don't worry about it." Kowalski waved him off, relaxing.

Skipper stared him down, but Kowalski was unaffected. "Fine," Skipper sighed, dropping his head into his hand. "Go... do what you were doing. I know you have better things to do than give me information."

Kowalski smirked. "Of course I do." He stepped to the door with a pleasant smile on his face. "I shall see you later." He tipped his hat at the private eye behind the desk before leaving.

Skipper sighed again, and turned his chair around to face the outside. "Don't get yourself into too much trouble, idiot," he grumbled, staring out across the city.