~~~~I do not own any rights to the characters of Homestuck. This is a work of fiction purely for entertainment~~~
Jake sighed, reloading his gun with a pure silver bullet. He kissed the engraving of a rosary on the side twice, silent his lip, no words nor fear escaping. His breath was shallow and cooled by the midwinter air, causing small clouds of fog to drift to the ceiling of the elder abandoned storehouse, full now only of pieces of war planes and old machinery that generals falling into dementia found no use for put on which to hang their hats. Jake cocked his gun, steeled himself, a moment, and rounded the corner, facing a shadowy expanse of concrete littered with nuts and bolts of all shapes and sizes. oh, the creature was in here, of that there was no doubt. The only question remained; Where.
A scream like thunder and blood boomed from underneath the floorboards. It was a human scream, but behind it lay a voice that seemed riddled with something inhuman. The panels of wood that made the floor creaked and trembled. Something rattled, something screamed "HELP ME!" like the words splattered in blood on the wall before Jake's eyes. Something rattled again, and the house shook. Beneath the floorboards was a demon whose vessel had become a part of them, and was slowly becoming more and more monstrous.
Jake stumbled, catching his footing quickly and dashing off to the hatch, leading down into the depths of the cob-web infested, dark and damp basement to the hanger. he Quickly descended the stairs, slowing the closer he got the the bottom, finding himself in near pure darkness. His pistols at the ready, one in each hand, he prayed to a god he knew somehow wouldn't listen that he would find and kill this thing before it found and killed him.
The sound of a beast too big to scurry moving along the wall was the only noise. When it stopped, there was no sound of breath, no whereabouts to deduce. It lunged, and a screech unlike any human can imagine came from its throat- it landed on Jake and pinned his arms behind his head. Claws, big and bloody claws tore into Jake's shirt, teeth sharp as wolves' gnashed before his eyes. A massive, muscular and lusty-eyed beast of a man kept him pinned. When it- he- spoke, the low rasp of his voice tinged with a strange, drawling accent drew Jake in. "Aren't you a delicious one."
Jake growled and raised his legs, kicking harshly into the creatures chest and stumbling back up, pressing his hand slightly to hes chest, blood seeping through his standard military jacket. he panted now, staring into the dark where the beast had been flung, steadying himself for it's next attack. "Who is it you hold hostage?" Jake demanded, his thick English accent giving his whereabouts away.
"Who is it you hold hostage?" The voice of the beast perfectly mimicked Jake's words, breath and tone in all. Jake could profoundly hear the fear in his own voice as it reflected into an audible mirror. "Well, I'm just good at attracting attention. And if I had someone hostage, they aren't screaming now, so why would they even be alive?"
Jake bared his teeth. "Just tell me if they are here, or not. That way I know if I should kill you now, or prolong your misery." He replied, fingers tightening around the triggers in his hands.
The only light in the room was the beast's glowing, orange eyes. "You should call me Dirk, Jake J. English, demon hunter, originally a resident of a small town in England where your house burned down when you were only a baby, and your grandmother was mysteriously killed." The blinking lights of his eyes were gone suddenly, the sound of shuffling again, and then silence. No attack.
Jake, momentarily taken aback by the demons abilities, was un-phased. "If you think that's impressive you should have heard the bloke that rattled off my entire sex history. I shot the bloody bastard when he was distracted, having grown tired by the half way mark." Jake said, warily observing his surroundings for any red lights of eyes.
Suddenly, from the stone corner of the wet, dripping, moldy basement came a low purring sound. "Oooh. . . Now, I'd prefer if you told me this one." The eyes showed themselves again. "Go on, put those guns away and let me hear a story."
"How about I tell it to you as a bed-time story." Jake said simply, pointing his gun right between the shining eyes. "Just let me say goodnight first."
"Woah, woah, no need to be hasty."He emerged enough from the darkness that one could see his wretched, fanged face."Look- I don't mean to haggle, but there wasn't a hostage. She's safe and sound."Jake's slight confusion and anger made him smile."In the fires of hell that are my belly. She was delicious."
Jake sighed heavily and, with no further adieu, pulled the trigger, letting a gnashing sound rip through the larger than expected, but still small, underground cavern. Everything went silent, and he blew the smoke off of his gun, turning to find a light and get out of here. Nothing more he can do now. . .