"So what other information can you give us about this demon?" Network asked Paul.

"Ogrellan demons are incredibly strong," Paul answered. "Their hides are immensely thick. Only someone of incredible strength can hope to pierce it with any sort of edged or piercing weaponry. They are fast for their size."

Damien was getting antsy. "Anything that can help us find it before it kills again? Why was it attacking these woman? Where did it come from? Why aren't we looking for it now?"

"Because," Network told his friend. "You're hurt, the Ogrellan or whatever is stronger than any of us save for Paul, and we have no idea how to stop it."

Paul turn towards Damien. "I can answer some of your questions. An Ogrellan is attracted to the scent of blood. It almost puts them in a feral state. It is my belief that the women who were attacked were currently on this month's menstrual cycle."

Network, Damien, and Paul all turned towards Montoya who sat quietly in the back of the White Room. She looked at each of their faces before saying, "Oh grow up!"

"No doubt about that," Damien muttered. "Okay then. What about what you said about it needing to feed?"

"An Ogrellan demon needs flesh to repair internal or severe damage to its body. When I shattered its rib cage that should have stopped it. That, combined with the veracity of the previous attacks, I believe an outside component was delivered to the Ogrellan."

Network looked confused. "You mean someone infected the demon with some sort of mystical PCP or something?"

Paul's eyes flickered for a moment. "An Ogrellan has to be summoned to appear in this dimension. Very few can break the borders of reality on their own. Whoever the summoner is most likely wanted to guarantee control over the demon. It would appear that they failed."

'And you concluded all this from a few minutes fighting this thing?" Damien asked, uncertainty tainting his voice.

"Yes. However, I admit that my theory has flaws in it."
Monica Stycker stared at the night sky. The stars were out and the weather was beautiful. It was nights like this that she wished she had a boyfriend, a lover, anything that she could share such a romantic view with. But as it were, she was alone. Something her family seemed to prefer.

Her cell phone rang and she answered it. She instantly recognized her brother Jeremy's voice on the other end. "Hey bro," she said. "What's up?"

"Just wondering when you were going to be home?" Jeremy asked. "It's getting late."

Monica hated it when her family babied her. She was almost seventeen for Christ's sake. When were they going to back off? "I'll be there soon. I wanted to swing by the motel and say hi to Eric." There was a long pause on the phone. "Okay, but be sure to hurry home right after. There have been those killings and I would hate anything to happen to you."

Monica sighed. "Yes, big brother. I'll come right home after."

Monica shook her head as she ended the call and put her phone away. Why had she been born a Stycker? Probably didn't matter anyway. Any family would probably be the same way.

"Well," she said aloud to herself. "Guess I better hurry over to the motel so I can get home."
Montoya paced the length of her apartment. She had almost died tonight. Probably would have if she had been attacked anywhere else. It was the single most frightening thing she had ever been through, including the whole ordeal with The Shadowed Man. And he radiated fear.

"My God," she said, a thought realizing in her head. "Those women. They must have been terrified."

"Don't dwell on it," a familiar voice said. Montoya looked up and saw Network standing in her door. She hadn't even realized she left it open. "They were most likely terrified, but the brutality of the attacks indicate that they didn't have time to fully comprehend what was going on."

Montoya wrapped her arms around herself. "What if you're wrong, Nathaniel? What if they new exactly what was going on and couldn't do anything about it?"

Network had nothing to say. He stared at Montoya for a full minute before asking her if she was okay and needed anything.

Montoya sat in her chair. "No thank-you, Nathaniel. I think I'm going to read then go to bed."

"Well if you change your mind, you know where I'll be, ok?"

Network left, closing Montoya's door on the way out.
"How are we going to locate this thing?" Damien asked Paul. "I mean, it was luck we even encountered it at all."

"Montoya might disagree with that," Network said as he entered the White Room. "She's pretty badly shaken up."

Paul tilted his head in Network's direction. "That is most unfortunate. But I must press that the Ogrellan will kill again and very soon if it hasn't already. We cannot worry about the emotional state of your friend."

"That's pretty cold, even for a robot." Damien spat out. "But I agree. Montoya will get over it. She got over The Shadowed Man for the most part despite his promise to come after her. The next victim most likely won't be as lucky as she was."

Network released a long sigh. "You're right," he relented. "Any ideas on how to find this demon?"

Paul's eyes flickered in the way that Damien and Network now new meant he was accessing his internal data banks. "Damien," he said after a moment. "You are a sorcerer, correct?"

Damien nodded his head. "Close enough. We can locate it with magic?"

"No. However, we can locate where it was summoned which may lead us not only to who summoned it but also the Ogrellan."

Network sat at his computer and started pulling up all the information on spells at their disposal. "What spell do we need?" he asked Paul.

"I doubt you have heard of it but I happen to know the ritual. It isn't precise, but it will give us some leads to go on. Damien, you will have to perform the ritual."

"Not a problem," Damien assured Paul. "Just tell me what I need to do."
Monica walked into the New Roanoke Motel. She made it a point to walk as far as she could from Room 110. Something about death made her...uneasy.

Eric Stycker stood behind the counter shuffling through some paperwork. He had been concierge of the motel since their father purchased it five years ago. It wasn't as nice as the New Roanoke Grand Hotel that they lived in, but she was pretty sure that not many could come to the luxury of that.

Eric noticed Monica and smiled. "Hey, little sister. What brings you all the way out here? It isn't safe here at night you know."

"I know. Jeremy gave me the lecture on the way over here. I promised I would be quick and head straight home afterwards."

"So what can I do for you?" Eric asked.

Monica looked around. "Nothing. I just wanted to say hi. Make sure you're okay. I can't believe you remained open after the murder that happened the other night."

Eric smiled. "People don't stop getting off the bus just because someone dies, Monica. I have a business to run. After all, I hope to be as successful as Father and Grandfather."

Monica eyed her brother curiously for a moment. "Eric, the reports say that the woman in 110 was brutally murdered. Literally torn apart. She didn't just die."

Eric's smile didn't drop. He had a long time to perfect it while working at the Grand Hotel, she wasn't surprised it didn't waver here. He must be one hell of a poker player.

"Monica, is something bothering you?"

Monica quickly looked away from her brother. "Um...not really. It's just..."

Eric stared at his sister.

"Didn't you hear anything that night?"

Eric now looked confused, but his ever present smile remained. "What do you mean?"

"I have a friend who works at dispatch, Eric. She said only one call came from the motel that night and that was from her room. Why didn't you call? You had to have heard something."

"Monica, she was all the way at the end of the motel. I was vacuuming the office. I couldn't have heard anything."

Monica stared at her brother for a long moment. "Okay." she finally said. "I'm sorry if I implied anything, but you know how I am. I like to know what's going on at all times, especially when it comes to our family."

"It's no big, Monica. Now run home and get some sleep, okay? It's late and we wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Something about what her brother just said coupled with the smile on his face disturbed Monica. She quickly said goodbye and almost ran out the door. There was just too many things going on with these murders. Too many coincidences.
Network, Damien, and Paul stared at the large computer monitor that covered the south wall of the White Room. A map of New Roanoke was displayed with several red dots and several yellow dots at certain locations. Network quickly searched through several files on each location on a smaller monitor on his workstation.

"Okay," he said. "The red dots indicate a murder site and the yellow are fluctuations of mystical energy that we gathered from Paul's ritual. The oldest and most likely of the fluctuations is located hear in Northern Roanoke."

"That's close to the Grand Hotel," Damien said.

Network nodded. "Which means anyone could have visited, summoned the Ogrellan, and left by now."

"No," Paul said. "He is still near. If he is trying to control the Ogrellan he would not leave."

"Okay, then," Damien said. "I guess I am going north."
Monica walked into the Grand Hotel. The lobby was enormous and quiet. If the hotel had any guests then they were most likely asleep in their rooms or still out enjoying the New Roanoke nightlife. Which could be dangerous, Monica thought to herself.

Jeremy walked from the back room and, upon noticing it was Monica, returned to the office. "Come on in, Monica," he said in a voice that indicated to her that she had little choice.

Monica sat in a chair across from Jeremy's desk and looked around at the artwork that covered his office. He had a thing for Dali's paintings, which seemed appropriate somehow. After a few minutes she finally asked her brother why she was called into his office.

Jeremy Stycker sighed. "Eric called me."

"Yeah? Did he want to make sure I got home okay?" Monica knew exactly why he had called.

"What happened out there the other night was a tragedy, Monica. Eric is trying to make it on his own to show father he can. Business is already going to take a big hit because of that murder and, frankly, whatever you were doing out there isn't helping."

"Jeremy, don't you think its odd that Eric didn't hear anything that night? That the other victim was..."

"A coincidence," a familiar and strong voice spoke from the doorway.

Monica turned around in her chair. "Hi, daddy," she said, almost sheepishly.

Roland Stycker walked over to Monica and gave his daughter a kiss on her forehead. His silk tie brushed against her face and she remembered that he was always very well dressed, no matter what time of day it was.

"Sweetheart, you needn't concern yourself with such things, okay? Eric is doing an excellent job running the motel and may even succeed where your brother expected him to fail. This tragedy is just that. It would almost seem that whoever is running around New Roanoke killing people has a vendetta against our family."

Monica stood up. "Whatever you say, daddy. But I'm not so sure it's as cut and dry as that."

Monica left the office and headed to the stairs.

"Monica," Roland's voice boomed. "Don't go sticking your nose into family business. The police will stop this killer soon enough. Then everything will be made clear, okay?"

Monica knew she had to be being lied to. "Sure, daddy. Whatever you say."

She changed her direction and headed out the front door, making sure she slammed it on the way.