A/N-It's been so long since Ive actually written a fanfic. But I guess being away from it for so long has gotten to me. After reading many many books, mostly horror, Ive hopefully come up with a good horror-ish/slasher fic here. I'm gonna give it a shot. Here goes nothing.

Chapter 1:

The hot spot of downtown San Francisco, Noire. A large club on a not so large street. Voices, moans, and screams blurred together with the heart pounding beat of some nameless Nickelback song. As if anyone was paying attention to what was on the radio when there was so much going on. Scantily clad women danced and wove around metal poles as brainless and wasted men threw crumpled money at their stilettos. Flat and drunken voices sang overpplayed 80's pop songs in amateur karaoke Shots were ordered and beer bottles were downed in attempts to let loose. Bodies moshed and grind-ed against each other in maddening ways.

"Another shot" A hoarse voice called. The man which the voice belonged to set a shot glass down on the smooth wooden bar and slid it back to the scruffy looking bartender. He glanced up from drying a tall glass with a white towel, which he hung over his shoulder as his left hand reached out and grabbed the small glass.

"You sure you want to be doin' that?" He asked giving the man a second chance. But he merely shook his head.

"I can hold my alcohol" He spoke with a cocky smile, bearing bleached fangs. The bartender stared at him for a moment before grabbing a dark square bottle from behind him and pouring in a shot without another word. The man reached out with his right hand and slid it towards him and grasped it firmly and in a swift motion tilted his head back and poured the amber colored liquid down his throat. It burned on its way down, but that was the best part of it.

For a moment everything seemed normal. Everyone sober or not carried on with the lively activities of the club. That's when the scent hit him. His head whipped around quickly and glanced around the club. Everything appeared to be normal, but he knew something wasn't right. He stood up slowly, being careful not to starle the bartender or the people around him. There was no reason to make a scene when it could be nothing at all. It could be a false alarm, but the scent got stronger and he realized that this was no false alarm. It was only a matter of moments before this semi-normal club was turned into a violent scene. He reached into the pocket of his black jacket and slammed a few bills on the wooden bar and walked away briskly. The bartender collected his money as usual and thought nothing of it.

The strange tough man followed the scent. He didn't second glance as he passed the women on the poles and he grimaced in disgust as he passed the karaoke. He headed towards the back of the club where there was a black door at the end of the hall on the right. The silver door nob was smudged with fingerprints and the bold scent of copper hit him like a truck. He instinctively growled, knowing there was nothing good happening when he smelt blood. Not just any blood either, fresh blood. His right hand reached to the holster on his side and grabbed the small black hesitation he cocked it backwards and held it down to his side. He twisted the door nob slowly and peered inside. He made a disgusted groan as he opened the door slamming it back on his hinges. He stared at the disgusting site before him.

A women, around the same age as the strange man was slumped against the wall. Her facial expression was that of fear, but it could not have been completed. Her eyes were torn from her sockets. One of them layed at her feet, the other, dragged off in the mouth of her predator. He groaned as he knelt down and stared into the dark sockets of the women. He shook his head and let out a sigh as he looked around the small closet. What the man saw next made him even more disgusted then the eyeless women. There was a large whole in the left wall of the closet. It wasn't neat, which meant something had recently crashed its way through. He stood up again and groaned loudly.

"Shit" He cursed to himself as he closed the closet door behind him, reminding himself to let the owners of the club about the body of the women later, before he made his way back down the hall. He glanced up at the ceiling on his way, listening intently for any small sound that could give away the location of whatever creature did this. This couldn't end well.

For even a few seconds, everything was still calm. And then the first scream erupted. It came from one of the scantily clad pole dancers. A large something dropped from the ceiling and hit the wooden stage below in front of the black haired women with a demon like grin. He immediately bolted towards the shrill screams with his gun out.

"Out of the damn way!" He yelled to the civilians. Their shock and fear filled eyes glanced at him and they moved out of the way, hoping for some savior. He brought his gun up to level and started firing at the large grey demon. It turned its ugly head with a cry as green blood splattered against the wooden floor. It growled in rage. The strange man, who the people were calling a savior, grabbed a second gun from a holster on his left side and cocked it back. The strange demon who was now bleeding profusely came at him with an unnatural speed. It had inhuman claws which it used to grip on the wooden stage and launched itself in the air. The man looked upwards and fired both guns shooting it while it was in the air.

He knew that these bullets didn't hurt the creature much. It had no signs of slowing down or of being in pain. When it came down the man had just enough time to move to the left to dodge most of it. One of its outer claws cut through the fabric of his black jacket and barely nicked the skin of his arm. All of his skin was covered by the long articles of clothing he wore. The jacket's opening revealed something different about the man underneath. As in, his skin was not white, he was not pale, he was not black, he was not tan, the man underneath the jacket and thick blue jeans, was green. A shade of emerald. No one in their right mind was paying attention to the man's skin color at this time though. They were all watching with fear of the grey demon which the man was fighting with.

"Come on ugly" He growled lowly. The creature gave an ear-splitting shriek as it came towards the man again. Its claws and teeth bared with murderous intent. Its eyes glazed over with the lust of killing. The gunslnger held his guns steady and fired again, attempting to slow the creature down for a few seconds.

He knew that they would have no effect, but anything was worth a try. Another scream erupted, it distracted the man for only a second. A second was more then enough time for the creature to pull back its ugly hand and slash forward, catching the man on the side of the head. He groaned as he heard his head hit the floor and everything went black.

When he awoke hours later he sat up slowly with a splitting headache. His hands fingered the side of his head and were coated with his own blood. He couldn't tell what was more painful, the pain in his head, or the overwhelming smell of copper. He opened his eyes slowly and expected the worse. He groaned. The place was covered in blood. The walls, the ceilings, the chairs, the stage, the poles. He stood up grabbing his guns and putting them back in his holster. He rubbed his head, smearing his blood as his nose crinkled as he looked and smelled the place. Limbs were everywhere, detached from their bodies. Bodies were split in half, ripped open, gutted, lying on the floor, the stage, the bar. It was a giant massacre. He groaned.

"This isn't gonna go well" He spoke to himself thinking that he was the only person still alive. He turned in a full 360 degree circle and when he was facing 180 degrees he realized that he wasn't the only person alive. A women stood on the other side of the room. Her eyes fixed on him. She was wearing a tight leather suit with a holster around her waist. Her right hand was placed on the butt of her gun as she kept staring at him.

"Shit" He cursed to himself as he broke the gaze of the women across the room. He turned away and headed towards the stage. He turned to look at the women again. She was closer to him this time and strode towards him with confidence. He turned towards her, knowing that now, she was going to make contact with him.

"Who the hell are you" He growled to her. Her gaze snapped up from the slash on his jacket revealing his skin to his angry face.

"My name doesn't matter here" She spoke, her voice was silk laced with anger.

He only growled back in response.

"The only thing that matters is that were on the same side here" She spoke motioning towards the corpse of the grey demon. A large cleaver protruded from its head.

"U do that?" he asked.

She only nodded

He smiled, bearing his fangs.

"Well then, I guess I'll be on my way" He spoke. She looked up with a glare.

"Your leaving?" She asked

"You took care of the problem. I got nothing left to do here" He said with a shrug. She stared at the rip on his jacket again as he made his way to the cracked door. He stopped before he exited, turning to face her again.

"Maybe we'll meet again" He said with a purr to his voice.

Her glare lessened as she stare back into his unusual green eyes. He stared back into her deep violet eyes.

"Maybe we will" She spoke, her voice just like silk.