Chapter 25
Author's Warning: This chapter contains some pretty graphic violence. Consider yourselves warned.
A few minutes later, the group were all sitting in Misato's living room sipping on tea, coffee, or, in Misato and Spike's case, beer. Shinji, with some supplemental info from Angel, told Misato and Rei about the fight with the lizard-creature.
"It was enormous," Shinji said in reference to the creature, "It had large, red eyes, huge arm muscles, and vicious-looking fangs."
"What was it?" Rei asked, fully rapt with attention.
"A Hashk-iroth demon," Angel answered, "They're a reptile-like species that thrives on causing mayhem and death. What's confusing me is that they rarely hunt alone. Hashk-iroth usually travel in small packs; two, three, or sometimes even four. Where are the other pack members?"
"I could help you sniff 'em out," Shinji volunteered, "All I need is a sample of their blood to start with."
"Shinji, are you sure you want to be chasing after lizard demons?" Misato asked, "That sounds really dangerous."
"It will be dangerous, Misato," Shinji replied, "That's a given. But this Hashk-i-something demon almost killed someone tonight. I can't sit idly by while there might be more of them out there doing the exact same thing."
"Well spoken, young man," said Illyria, "You speak like a true champion."
"I don't know about champion," said Shinji, blushing a little bit, "I just don't like to see innocent people hurt for no good reason, that's all."
"Just be careful," Misato conceded, "Come back to me alive."
"Always," Shinji promised, "You and Rei look out for each other, okay?"
Misato nodded. Shinji noticed tears threatening to brim over in her eyes. He smiled gently at her.
"I'll be home in a little while, baby," Shinji said quietly, "I promise."
"Shinji!" Misato gasped, leaping into his embrace again. She clung desperately to Shinji, pressing her face into his shoulder. Shinji felt extremely awkward, yet at the same time, protective.
"Don't cry, Misato," Shinji whispered gently, "I'll be home soon."
Shinji released Misato and stood up.
"Let's go," he said. Angel, Spike and Illyria stood up.
"Thanks for the beer," said Spike. Then, the four heroes walked out to the door and left. Team Angel piled into the Impala. Shinji headed for the garage to get his Stingray. When he pulled it out into the street, Angel whistled appreciatively.
"Nice," he said.
"Thanks," Shinji said, leaning his head out the window, "We can discuss the size of our engines later. Let's go hunt some demons. I've got a couple of ladies waiting for me to come home."
Spike laughed. Angel nodded with a smile on his face. Illyria maintained her stony, unamused face. The two cars returned to the building block where they had killed the Hashk-iroth. On top of the building where they had thrown down with the creature, the group found the scattered remains.
"All right, Fido," Spike drawled, "Do your stuff."
"I'd say 'bite me'," Shinji replied, "but you'd probably take it to heart and do it."
This made Angel and Spike chuckle as Shinji transformed. Once transformed, Shinji walked over to one of the mangled pieces of the corpse and took several long, deep sniffs of the blood and body parts. Shinji smeared some of the black, oily blood of the Hashk-iroth demon onto his clawed fingers and sniffed it closely to his nose. After taking these experimental samples of demon scent, Shinji was confident that he could sort the scent out from the background. He turned to Angel and nodded.
"He's got them," said Angel, "Lead on, Shinji."
Shinji sprang off the side of the building and landed on the street below. As he loped off, following the scent, he heard his three companions racing along behind him. Shinji grinned to himself when he heard Spike say:
"Bugger, this kid's fast!"
Shinji wound his way through the alleys and side streets of downtown Los Angeles. Every corner he turned brought a stronger cloud of the Hashk-iroth scent to his nostrils. He turned one more corner and…
"Dead end," Angel panted, "This is a blind alleyway. Shinji, are you sure this is the right way?"
Shinji growled and started to turn slowly on the spot. Once again, he was using his sense of smell as a sort of radar system. His nose led him down to ground level, where he discovered a sewer entrance. He dug his talons in around the edges and heaved it up. Along with a mixture of extremely foul odors, Shinji reacquired the Hashk-iroth's scent trail.
"This is it," Shinji said, returning to human form.
"You wanna come along for the kill?" Angel asked.
"I dunno," Shinji said, "I mean, I promised Misato that I'd get home in one piece and I watched how hard you guys fought when there was only one of those things."
"Which is why we will need your help this time," said Illyria, "There may be at least two more Hashk-iroth demons lying in wait for us in the tunnels. Your claws and fangs will be a great asset."
"It might even be a little bit fun," Spike added.
"You guys are gonna get me in so much trouble," Shinji muttered, jumping down into the man-hole.
"That's what we're here for, mate," Spike replied, "Now get your fur coat back on."
He just keeps pushing, Shinji thought angrily as he transformed, I'm not a damned circus dog to be put through its paces! I'm a werewolf. But he's treating me like a goddamn pet!
Shinji reacquired the scent trail and loped off through the sewer tunnels. He had to focus hard to block out the smells that surrounded him and threatened to make him vomit. He wondered how anything could stand to live in this place. Finally, he led the group to a large antechamber where the smell dead-ended again.
"There's no other ways out of this room," Angel observed, "But there're plenty of places to hide. Stay alert."
No sooner had Angel spoken than three Hashk-iroth demons dropped from the rafters above them. Swords were drawn, and the battle began. Illyria and Shinji each took one demon while Spike and Angel teamed up against the third. Shinji was concerned for his new friends but he couldn't worry about them while he had a mad, slavering monster intent on ripping him to shreds.
Shinji engaged the Hashk-iroth hand-to-hand, or, in this case, claw-to-claw. The Hashk-iroth snapped its powerful jaws, sinking its sharp teeth deeply into Shinji's shoulder. Shinji howled with pain and anger. One of his massive, furry fists connected with the side of the demon's head, sending it sprawling. Shinji pounced on top of it and started slashing at it with his clawed hands. Thick, black blood began to spray everywhere. Shinji started getting more and more excited as he smelled the freshly pouring blood. He roared and sank his fangs into the Hashk-iroth's neck. He tasted the demon blood as it poured over his teeth and bathed his tongue. It didn't have the same salty sweetness that Rei's blood had had when he bit her in the hospital. The Hashk-iroth's blood was spicy. It had a very peppery, acidic flavor that Shinji found distasteful.
As distasteful as the flavor was, having blood in his mouth made him crave more. He sank his sharp fangs into the demon's neck again and again, until he realized that the demon's blood was no longer flowing. It was dead. Shinji looked around at the fights still going on. Neither Illyria, nor Angel and Spike had defeated their opponents. Shinji wondered how they could be so slow and inefficient at killing. The three of them had all had the experience of centuries at the killing game. They must have lost their stomach for it, Shinji's werewolf mind decided.
I guess that means it's up to me.
Shinji roared again and dove at the Hashk-iroth nearest to him, nearly tackling Illyria in the process. He slashed and bit at the demon, tearing its body to shreds. His next target was Spike and Angel's Hashk-iroth. He threw himself into the fray, narrowly avoiding a wound by Spike's broadsword. The demon tried to bite at Shinji's neck, only to have one of his massive werewolf fists plunged into its throat. Shinji gripped the back of the demon's thick, forked tongue and pulled. With a shriek of pain, the Hashk-iroth's tongue came free of its mouth. Shinji's fanged mouth began snapping at every inch of the demon that he could reach. Finally, with a snarl, he sank his fangs into the hapless Hashk-iroth's neck, delivering the killing bite. Shinji climbed to his feet and threw his head back and howled with victory.
Shinji sensed movement near him and whipped around and saw Angel and Spike. For a moment, Shinji looked at them and wanted their blood, as well. Fortunately for Angel and Spike, Shinji's human will re-exerted itself and tamed his bloodlust. Shinji reverted to human form and stood, covered in demon blood. The taste in his mouth was vile. Shinji ran to a hidden spot behind a crate and vomited.
"You okay, kid?" Spike called.
"I…uuugghhhh….think so," Shinji replied between heaves, "What happened to me?"
"Who knows?" Spike answered, "An' who cares? You were bloody brilliant righ' there."
"I tasted their blood and I think…I liked it," Shinji groaned, standing back up.
Angel looked concerned, but said nothing. The quartet returned to the surface and Shinji returned to his werewolf form. Spike looked confused. Then, Shinji shook himself, sending demon blood spraying everywhere.
"Thanks a lot," Angel grumbled, brushing off his leather coat.
"It will come out in the wash," Illyria said coolly.
"Was that a joke?" Spike asked, amazed.
"It was not intended to be," Illyria answered, "I was merely stating a fact."
"Guys, I'm going home," Shinji said, "Misato and Rei are still waiting for me."
"Take care, Shinji," said Angel, "Get that shoulder looked at."
"I heal really fast," Shinji laughed, waving a hand, "All I need is a good night's sleep and a little T.L.C. from Misato and I'll be good as new. See ya."
Shinji jogged off down the streets. He found his way back to the Corvette, just as he heard voices approaching.
"Look what we got here, hombres," said one of the men. From his accent, Shinji guessed that he was of Latino descent.
"Looks like a little, lost, white boy," said another. The gang all laughed. Shinji heard another chuckle: "Look at what he's wearin', man. He's tryin' to make a fashion statement."
Another voice spoke up. This one belonged to a large, muscular man of African descent.
"Don' matter what the fool's wearin'. He's on our turf. Unless he asks real nice, he's gon' lose that pretty lil car."
"And if I don't ask real nice?" Shinji replied, as the gang surrounded him.
"Then we kill yo crack ass an' take yo car anyhow!" the black man shouted, "What's it gon' be?"
"You can take my car," Shinji said. The gang chattered triumphantly.
"Over my…dead…body," Shinji growled. The gang laughed harder.
"If that's the way you wan' it, estúpido," the Mexican said.
Shinji smiled evilly as the gang closed in. He let them get within striking distance before unleashing his werewolf side on them. Many of the grown men screamed like ten-year-old girls as Shinji's large, shaggy form revealed itself. The gang's leader drew a desert eagle handgun and fired, practically point-blank, into Shinji's abdomen. The bullet passed through Shinji's body, leaving little trace it had even entered. Such a small wound could heal itself almost instantaneously. Shinji pounced on the gun-wielder and grabbed him by the throat. He threw the man across the road, watching with sick satisfaction as he hit a lamppost and crumpled to the pavement. Shinji whipped around and slashed at two more of the gang members with his claws. Deep gouges appeared in the chests of the men. Their blood spilled onto the roadway. Shinji felt his bloodlust rising again as he smelled the blood that he knew was human and sweet. He felt himself starting to drool with anticipation and knew that he might kill someone if he wasn't careful and ended the fight quickly. Shinji threw his head back and roared mightily. The remaining gang members scattered like roaches when the lights come on.
Shinji quickly returned to humanity and jumped in his car. He sped away down the street, wondering if any of the gang members might report him. Not likely, as he reasoned that none of the gang members would have clean rap-sheets or go willingly to the police. No, it was more likely that he had just created a reputation for himself among the city's underworld. Shinji smirked as he thought about it.
The Mad Werewolf, he thought with satisfaction, that's me. Be afraid, punks. Be very afraid, and don't mess with me or my friends.