The city of New York was vary busy at night even by day, but this night was the busiest of all because of all the tourists. A mother, a father and a twelve-year-old son, little Jimmy, all too well dressed for this kink of neighborhood, walked down the festering street, out-of-towners trying not to look out of place, which marked them even worse.
The family carried playbills in their hands. They'd just been to a show, but now they needed to get a taxi. They walked down the street to look for a taxi and a group of strangers looked them up and down, smiling as they hurried by.
The father found a taxi, but before he could tell the driver that they needed a ride a man and a hooker got in the taxi. "This is my taxi! I was here first!" yelled the father as the taxi took off.
The mother clutched at the father's sleeve. "For Pete's sake, Harold, can we please get a taxi?" she asked trying not to make a seen.
Harold looked back at his wife with an annoyed, even angry expression, the kind of look that would make him king of the household back wherever they came from. Little Jimmy reached in his back pocket and pulled out a map. "We're going the wrong way, Dad!" he snapped, as Harold looked around. "Put that away!" the father insisted, trying to keep his voice low, trying not to attract attention. He led his family down the street and a hooker smiled at Little Jimmy. "Hi there honey," cooed the hooker as Little Jimmy smiled back.
The father led his family into an alley hoping to find a taxi on the other side. The alley had no light except the dim light of the moon on wrecked cars. Just then a man in ragged cloths called out to the father. "Hey, mister!" he said holding out his hand. "Gimme a dollar," he begged. The family could tell that he was maybe nineteen or twenty, but they moved away from him. As they moved along another man in a cowboy outfit and holding a gun whacked the father across the back of the neck.
The father fell like a stone to the alley floor and the mother grabbed Little Jimmy. They backed up against a wall, too scared to move or make a sound. The man who asked for a dollar ran across the street to join his friend with the gun. "Let's see what we got," said the ragged man as he took Harold's wallet and watch.
The cowboy looked evilly at the mother and pointed his gun at Little Jimmy. "Do the kid a favor, lady," he said softly and reasonably. "Don't scream."
She swallowed her scream instead. Tears streamed down her face. She held Little Jimmy tight against her, as if her son was the only thing that was keeping her sane. Little Jimmy didn't say a thing either, as if all he could think about was the muzzle of the gun. The two crooks ran off with what they wanted and then the mother screamed as she and her son ran to the father was crumpled in the alleyway. Her scream echoed up and down the alleyway. It mixed with the music, and the laughter, and the car horns down the street. Up on a old Cathedral that faced the Alley a figure saw the whole thing.
Meanwhile the two crooks: let's call them Cain and Steele, were on a roof, six stories above the street with all the things they took from father. Cain the one with the gun opened up the father's wallet and looked at the cards. "All right! An American Express card."
He tossed the card at Steele. "Don't leave home without it, heh?"
Cain turned his attention to counting the cash as the night wind blew gravel across the roof. Steele looked up. He had heard a noise, like metal clanging against metal. "Let's beat it, man. I don't like it up here." he said with unease. Cain just laughed. "What are ye, scared of heights?"
"I dunno." Steele shivered. He looked around, even though there was nothing there except darkness. "After what happened to my brother Brain-" That made Cain angry. "Look, Your brother got ripped and took a walk off a roof, all right? No big lose."
But Steele knew it wasn't that simple. "No, man. That ain't what I heard at all." he stopped for a minute, as if he didn't want to say what came next. But it had to come out. "I heard that some demons from hell got him." he said with fear running up his back. "Demons from hell? Gimme a break!" Cain snapped as he looked away, as if his friend's idea wasn't even worth laughing about. But Steele just shook his head. "Brain fell five stories, straight down. There was no blood in the body."
"No shit," agreed the cowboy. "It was all over the pavement." His head whipped around. He stared out into the dark. This time, he heard the sound and looked back at his friend. "I don't believe in God, or demons." he grumbled.
Then Steele started to shake with horror. "You shouldn't turned the gun on that kid, man, you shouldn't tu-" he was cut off by Cain who was holding out the money. "If you want your cut of this money all you have to do is to shut up!" yelled Cain as he took his half. "Now shut up!"
That's when the crooks heard the sound of feet crunching gravel above them. They looked up and saw a gargoyle with white glowing eyes, growling at them.
The gargoyle glared at Cain and Steele which put great fear in them. "Do you think that you have watched to many westerns?" asked the gargoyle in a low angry voice. "I want your gun and the money!" he ordered.
Cain dropped to the gravel and pulled his gun out. He fired twice at the gargoyle, two clean shots. He was too close to miss. The gargoyle fell to the roof in pain. "Well he got it," gasped Cain.
The gargoyle roared in anger and before Steele could react, a red gargoyle came out of nowhere and kicked him in the chest. The kick lifted him completely off his feet and sent him flying through the air into a brick chimney. Steele slumped to the roof, out cold. Cain dropped his gun and ran for the fire escape, but a fat blue gargoyle flew after him.
Cain fell and could no longer use his legs. They were pinned together, the gargoyle had grabbed his legs. His arms were still free. "Help me!" screamed Cain as tried to pull free.
The blue gargoyle pulled the cowboy along the rooftop, the gravel slicing into his elbows, drawing a dozen tiny streams of blood. He did not think of the pain. Only about the three gargoyles. He was so scared that he almost crapped his pants. The big gargoyle reached down and grabbed him by the shirt, took him over to the edge of the roof, and held him out beyond the edge.
All Cain could do was beg for his life. "Don't kill me," cried Cain as he looked down to the street below him. "I'm not going to kill you," said the big gargoyle in a calm and strong voice. "I want you to do me a favor. I want you to tell all your friends about me!" he ordered with a growl.
"What are you?" asked Cain with fear. The big gargoyle pulled him close to him until they were face to face. "I'm Goliath and the leader of the Gargoyle clan!" he hissed.
Goliath threw Cain roughly on the tar-and-gravel rooftop. He still managed to look up, to see Goliath and the other two gargoyles step off the building's edge, six stories up, off into nothing but air. "Tell them!" called Goliath's voice. The cowboy really started to scream.
The police arrived a few hours later, took the two crooks away, but Cain was still screaming. "They told me to tell my friends! The demons told me!"
A female NYPD detective named Elisa Maza was puzzled, but the two crooks were not the only ones to say that they saw demons. This makes just eight sightings in just under a month! She was trying to find out what was going on. She asked Cain about what the demons looked like and witch way they flew off after taking down him and his friend.
She got her answer and headed off to headquarters.