Damien couldn't move. "What?" he asked in disbelief.
"My name is Paul," the robotic demon repeated.
"So you're the one who killed the woman in this room?" Damien asked.
Paul cocked its head slightly to the right. "I do not understand," its hollow voice stated.
"Of course you don't," Damien spat. "You're a monster."
"I admit my appearance is not the most pleasant..."
Damien finally remembered the spell he forgot, but he was unsure if it would work on this metallic monstrosity. He shouted the words anyway and a blast of pink energy crashed into Paul and knocked him back a few feet. Damien stared in shock. That spell would knock a Fyarl demon on its ass, but it barely moved this opponent. Damien knew he had only one choice here for now:
He ran.
"You know," Montoya said after the waiter had taken her and Network's order. "I don't think I ever had Thai food before."
"Really?" Network said with a hint of nervousness shaking his voice. "It's my favorite, actually. When I first started Croaton Computers it was the only place nearby that delivered." They shared a laugh together, then Network asked, "So you wanted to talk to me about something, Montoya?"
Montoya blushed as she looked for the words. "I want a job, Nathaniel," she finally said.
Network looked stunned. "A job?"
"I don't like mooching off of you."
"You're not-"Network stammered. When Montoya shot him a look he corrected himself. "I mean, it isn't a problem. It isn't like I can't afford it."
"I know," said Montoya. "But I want to feel like I'm paying my own way. And besides, I'm getting bored just staying in the apartment all day and all night."
"Well," he said, thinking of what to say. "Damien tells me you used to own a gallery or an antique shop or something in Cleveland?"
"That's right. But I'm not above anything. I can do secretarial or customer service. Anything would be fine with me until I can get back on my feet and pay my own way."
Network looked down at his glass of wine. "I don't think there is a place in my company for you, Montoya, I'm sorry."
"Oh," she sounded disappointed.
Network looked back at her face. "But I'll ask around and see if I can get you a job at a gallery or something since you have experience there." Montoya smiled. "That would be great, Nathaniel. Even something part time so I can at least pay you something."
"That isn't necessary, Montoya."
"I know, but I want to. I'll feel not-so-guilty that way."
"Okay. I'll see what I can do."
The waiter brought the food out, asked them if they needed anything else and, when they said they didn't, went on to his next table. They ate in silence for a few moments, then Network said, "You know, I pay Damien for what he does."
"I'm not interested in that life, Nathaniel," Montoya said bluntly.
"I know, I know. But if you're interested, I can use someone to help me research things and all. You wouldn't actually have to go out and battle like Damien and, sometimes, I do. You can help in procuring certain 'antiques' that other, lets just say 'parties' are interested in. The money's good and not only do you get to do what you love, in a way, but you also get to save the world from time to time."
Montoya sat in silence and picked at her food. Network was ready to forget the whole thing and change the subject when she finally spoke again. "I don't know, Nathaniel. I'll have to think about it."
Network nodded his head and took a bite of his dinner. "That'll be fine, Montoya. And the offer will always be on the table, should you refuse now."
Montoya reached across the table and grabbed Network's hand. "Thank-you, Nathaniel. You've been a good friend to me since I came here."
Network blushed. "Just doing my part to-"he was cut off by his cell phone ringing. Network gave an irritated look to Montoya as he pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID to see who it was from. "Damien," he told Montoya as he answered the phone.
"Network!" Damien's voice broke over the line before Network could even say hello.
"Damien?" Network's voice cracked sending an instant chill down Montoya's back. "What's wrong?"
"I think I just met our demon," Damien shouted. Network could hear that he was out of breath. He must have been running for a while. "Some kind of robot or something. Goes by the name of 'Paul'. Have you ever heard anything about it?"
"Can't say I have," Network said truthfully. "Where did you encounter it at?" "At the motel! The damn thing came back to the scene of the crime. I hit it with one of my strongest stunning spells but it barely noticed. You need to find everything you can on this thing because I don't think he was stopping at one!"
"Sure, sure," Network said. "Meet me back at the White Room. I'll be there as quickly as I can."
"Sorry to break up your date, man, but I don't think I could have taken it on myself empty handed."
"No, no, you did the right thing, Damien. I'll see you soon." Network ended the call and looked sheepishly at Montoya. "I'm so sorry, Montoya."
Montoya just smiled warmly. "It's okay. Let's just get our food to go, something for Damien, and we'll head back to meet him."
"Damien hates Thai."
Montoya laughed. "Then we'll grab him a burger on the way back. It'll be faster anyways."
Now it was Network's turn to smile. "Okay," he said.
A couple of hours later, Network, Damien, and Montoya were gathered in the White Room. Network had done a hurried search through a couple demonology databases but couldn't come up with anything fitting the description of "Paul". The closest he found was a demon named Moloch who caused some trouble in Sunnydale, California about ten years back. From what Network could gather, Moloch was banished during the dark ages and his essence placed in a book. He was accidently released when a student at Sunnydale High School scanned the pages into a computer database. His essence was then trapped in the internet and he had brainwashed several people into building a robotic body for him to transfer his essence into. The story itself was much more complex, but in the end, Moloch was banished back into the book and the book sealed away for all eternity.
At first Damien thought that "Paul" had to be Moloch, but then Network pointed out that Renee Granger's murder wasn't Moloch's style according to the database. He assured his friend, however, that he would spend the rest of the night researching. Damien acknowledged this with a long sigh and then told Network that he was going to go look for Paul and try to get some answers.
"Then you'll want to take some sort of weaponry with you this time," Network recommended.
Damien said, "Yeah. But I don't think we have anything that can stand up to this guy. Swords and axes may be just as effective as magic."
"What about electricity?" Montoya asked. She had been quiet for so long that both Network and Damien forgot she was there. They stared at her for so long she felt she had to explain her question. "I just mean that I have a tazer in my apartment. You have to get close, but it puts out like 30,000 volts of electricity or something like that. Maybe that will bring him down?"
Network smiled at the beautiful woman who only recently entered his and Damien's already chaotic lives. "You know, Montoya..." he started.
"...that just might work." Damien finished. "Now all we have to do is find him."
Jessica Harding walked out of her hole-in-the-wall accounting office. It had to be after midnight and she was more than tired, but it was a hard day's work and she was closed tomorrow. Sleeping in seemed like such a good idea. After a long, hot bath, she thought.
The way her building was set up made for a long walk across the alley to her car. It was dark, and she had complained several times to the City Hall about fixing that damn streetlight, but still the bulb was burned out. She just knew that one of these days she was going to get mugged...or worse.
She was half-way to her car when she heard something heavy fall on the pavement. She spun around but didn't see anything. Shrugging it off to her overactive imagination, Jessica searched through her mess of keys for the one to her car door and continued on towards her vehicle.
There was another heavy sound that caused her to stop in her tracks. Now she was about twenty yards from her car, close enough to make it if she had to run. Jessica took a look over her shoulder and gasped. She could swear she saw something looming in the shadows.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice wavering. "You best just leave me alone. I have pepper spray and I WILL use it!"
There was a moments silence and Jessica was sure she scared off whoever was there, but still she waited a few more moments to make sure. When she was sure she was just scaring herself she started heading towards her car again.
This time she heard a low, deep growl. The shock of the unearthly sound made her let out a small scream. There were a couple more heavy sounds on the pavement and Jessica slowly turned her head toward the noise. She wasn't sure if what she saw was actually there or not but there was something, and it frightened her enough for her to scream in panic before breaking into a full sprint towards her car.
The car seemed so far away and Jessica could hear the heavy sounds hitting the pavement faster and faster. Whatever was in the shadows was now chasing her. The thuds started out slow, but sounded like it was gaining speed until each individual thud had become one continuous sound.
Jessica finally reached her car and unlocked the door. She was inside the driver's seat with all the doors locked and the engine running in record time. She slammed her foot on the gas and thought she was home free when something slammed so hard into her driver's side door that it bent the car nearly in half and smashed into the wall of the next building.
Jessica was dazed, unsure of where she was or what happened. Blood poured from her head and face and she was sure her left arm and legs and probably several ribs were broken. She could barely keep her eyes open. She was so out of it, in fact, that when her crushed driver side door was ripped from the car she barely noticed.
Jessica barely felt something grab her by the arm and yank her from the car. She was sure she was flying for a moment before she came to a stop so sudden that she was sure she felt her spine snap. For a moment she was staring up at the night sky before she saw an inhumanly large hand raise into the sky above her head.
The last thing she saw before her world went black was that hand coming done straight towards her.
Montoya dug through a box in her closet looking for the tazer. She knew that Damien and Network were waiting on her and she was already gone over twenty minutes. She knew it was a serious situation and she thought it commendable what they both did for the world. But still, the whole "things- that-go-bump-in-the-night-being-real" thing got to her. Her foster father had told her such stories, but she couldn't remember them. Ever since her accident a couple years ago a lot of things were fuzzy.
Are you thinking about when you met me, Montoya?
No.
Oh, that's right. I was always here. You're trying to remember the name of that guy who raised you. The one who told you that vampires and werewolves were more than monsters in movies. The guy who told you that the boogey man was real and living under your bed. What was his name again?
I can't remember.
No. But you did once. I bet that witch in Cleveland could tell you his name.
Leave me alone!
Nah, that wouldn't be any fun. Besides, when do I get to go outside and play?
You don't. Every time you do somebody gets hurt.
Please! If I wasn't let out in Cleveland you and all your little friends their would be killed. Especially Damien, being that he was the one The Shadowed Man wanted.
Don't say that name!
Why? Still scared he is going to fulfill his promise and come find you? Afraid he'll tear you apart like he did Damon? You know that when he arrives, and I assure you he will, you are going to let me out and not think twice about it. After all, it was I who really defeated him last time.
So you keep reminding me. But what I vaguely remember was you getting your ass kicked and Damon sacrificing himself to save all our lives.
Shows what you know.
Yeah. It does.
Ooh! The claws come out on this little pussy cat. What happened to the controlling little girl that ruled the roost?
...
That's what I thought. I can always make you speechless, Montoya. I will always be in control.
But you aren't. And you won't ever be again. Nathaniel will find a way to "fix" me and...
You're little boyfriend? Ha! Don't make me laugh, Montoya. You're pathetic. You always were and you always will be. Let me out, though, and I will find a way to satisfy your little friend.
Shut up!
Why? This is so much fun.
Bitch!
"Are you okay?" a voice broke Montoya's internal dialogue. She looked up and saw Damien standing in the doorway to her bedroom. He was staring at her with a curious eye.
Montoya blushed, then smiled. "Yeah, sorry. Conflicting arguments."
"Anything I should be aware of?"
"No," Montoya lied. "Nathaniel offered me a job working with you guys as a researcher and a sort of antiquities broker."
Damien smiled at this. It was the first time she seen Damien smile so brightly. "And did you take it?"
"Not yet," Montoya realized she was holding something in her right hand and looked at it. She had apparently found the tazer and after staring at it for few moments she handed it to Damien. "Here you go."
"Thanks," he said. "This was some excellent thinking. If it matters any, I think you would be a great asset on the team."
"Thank-you," Montoya flashed a bright smile that she actually didn't feel. "I'm still considering it. But if there isn't anything else, I'm kind of tired. I don't mean to be rude or anything-"
"No, no, that's perfectly fine. I'll get this back to you ASAP, Montoya. Thanks, again."
"Anytime." Montoya walked Damien to her door and closed it behind him. She made sure it was locked tight, then walked back into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Sleep soon overtook her.
Damien noticed that something was wrong with Network the second he stepped foot into the White Room. "What's up?" he asked his friend, knowing the answer already but hoping he was wrong.
"There's been another murder," Network answered. "Still not much on the details yet, this one is pretty fresh. It happened outside of Harding's Accounting Firm. I guess the body is pretty badly mutilated but they believe it to be the owner, Jessica Harding."
Damien was happy that Network had tapped into the police computers a few months back but he was seldom happy with the news that came across it. He reached into the pocket of his trench coat and felt the tazer there. This had to end tonight.
"Same M.O. as the last one?" he asked Network who simply nodded his head in return. "Paul returned to the scene last time so maybe he will this time. And if he does, I'll be ready for him!"
Montoya found herself sitting in a black room. Every few seconds, flashes of light zipped by and then disappeared once again in the darkness. She had no idea where she was or how she got her and the thought scared her. Wasn't her apartment supposed to be safe from things like this? Didn't Nathaniel have safeguards against something, or someone, breaking in? Surely, if someone could get past the front door and elevator security (which had a pass card and numeric entry system) and the overly cautious backdoor security, then shouldn't the apartment security stop them?
Get over it, Montoya. You're as fine as you ever were.
Where am I?
Asleep.
I'm dreaming?
No, this is a paranoid delusion brought on by a night of heavy drinking and opium usage. Of course it's a freaking dream!
Why am I here?
You got me. You're the one who fell asleep.
Normally I dream.
I thought we already established that you ARE dreaming.
I mean "normal" dreams.
Oh. Well, sorry but I can't help you there. You aren't exactly normal.
I am too!
Right. Normal girls have conversations with the voices in their heads.
I see your point. So why are we having this conversation and why is it so dark.
Hey. It's your dream. Montoya thought for a moment then concentrated on there being light. Almost instantly the room was flooded with the brightest white light she could imagine. She could here her "other" moan and subconsciously she dimmed the lights to a more bearable intensity. She looked around and saw nothing but white going on forever.
Maybe you could think us to Hawaii or something.
Not a bad idea, so that's exactly what Montoya did. She found her self reclined on a chair at a beach, the warm sun beating down on her already naturally olive colored skin. She looked down and saw a bikini way more skimpy than anything she would ever consider wearing. At first she went to cover herself up, but then her other spoke up:
Come now, Montoya. You have a killer body. It's only a dream, so show it off. Hell, take off the bikini and go el natural.
I could never...
What? Show your body to your imagination? You really are boring, girlfriend.
The words hurt, but she knew they were true. After all, her "other" was really just herself, right? And she had to admit that not being so uptight about her swimsuit was kind of relaxing.
That's my girl.
It was very relaxing, sitting on the beach. She glanced over at a table and found a pineapple carved out to hold liquor. She reached for it and took a sip out of the straw. The familiar taste of alcohol mixed with fruit juices exploded in her mouth and she let out a moan of happiness. This was the life. To bad she couldn't stay here forever.
You could, you know. You just have to let me take control is all.
The catch. Never! It was you who set this up, wasn't it? I told you before I WILL NOT let you out.
"Can I get you anything else?" she heard a voice say behind her. She turned and saw a very attractive, very well-built man standing behind her. He was dressed very much like a Chippendale Dancer with only a black bow tie and very short hotpants on. He had black hair down to his shoulders and her eyes glanced down to the very noticeable bulge in his hotpants.
Oh my God! You little slut!
What? I'm not allowed fantasies?
Montoya, should I leave you two alone?
The thought crossed her mind. Here she was safe. No room for disappointment if she stayed here and let her "other" go free. Wait. What was that?
I didn't say anything.
No! You're trying to trick me! If I have to stay unhappy then so be it. I won't let you out!
I bet Nathaniel would like to know how "unhappy" you are.
Don't.
Montoya didn't have to be able to see her "other" to know she was smiling. She could feel it on her own face.
Damien found the crime scene to be flooded with police and reporters wanting to know if a serial killer was on the loose. He knew that, in a way, that was true, but not in the sense that these people were used to. Paul was a monster that had to be stopped. And he knew that only he and Network were the ones that could do it.
The car belonging to the victim was totaled. The driver side was caved in like it was hit by a truck going 120 mph and the passenger side was smashed into the side of the building. The wall of the building was still standing, but it looked as though the slightest bump against it would bring it down. The driver side door of the car was missing. Not more than fifty feet away was the chalk outline from where the body used to be. The area around the outline was a bloody mess, and even the outline itself was jagged. Damien felt sick to his stomach. What kind of monster could do this?
Of course, he already knew the answer. He gripped the tazer in his coat pocket. Now he just had to wait for Paul to arrive. He stood as far back from the crime scene as he could and still be able to keep an eye on it. After a few hours the police, reporters, paramedics, and gathered onlookers had either dispersed or left the area entirely and Damien snuck over for a closer look at the crime scene. Again, the coroners were very thorough in their search of the area left nothing for Damien to go by. Or maybe there was nothing to leave behind. After all, Paul was a robotic demon of some sort. Robots aren't ones to leave hairs or blood or skin samples lying around.
"Hello again," came an empty, mechanical voice from behind Damien. He must have been so caught up in the crime that he forgot to pay attention to his surroundings. It was a stupid mistake and Damien silently cursed himself for it.
"Paul," Damien practically spit the name out. Anger was clearly shown on his face as he faced the mechanical monstrosity. "I'm ending this now."
Paul cocked its head to the side. "Ending what now?"
"You." Damien pulled the tazer out of his pocket as he leapt at Paul. He brought the end of it to the robot's face and hit the button. Eaves of blue electricity exploded over Paul's face and a mechanical howl erupted out of the three speaker slits it used for a mouth. In defense, Paul lashed its right arm out and Damien went flying, dropping the tazer. He hit the ground hard, but quickly rolled onto his feet the way his brother taught him to when he was alive.
"Why do you attack me?" Paul asked, servos and motors audibly clicking inside its metal body.
"Because you're a monster!" Damien shouted. "And I won't allow you to kill anyone else!"
Paul was silent for a long moment. Damien could barely hear a faint clicking sound through the speaker slits on its face. "I have not killed any one," Paul finally said, his voice rising an octave at the end of the statement, making it sound more like question than a comment.
"What?" Damien shot out. "Then why have you been at both crime scenes?"
Paul was again silent for a long moment. He cocked his head to the side once again and said, "Why were you at both crime scenes?"
Damien had no comeback. Paul did have a point. Maybe he was wrong about this...this thing in front of him. But who cares? If Paul wasn't the creature who killed these two women he undoubtedly had some other sick and evil plot going on.
"I wish to help you," Paul's cold, hollow, mechanical voice said.