The Second Hell: Part 3- The Trap Lair
"Tonight on eight-o'clock news: An overnight homicide leaves almost one hundred dead. I'm joined here by Dan Petterson on the scene. What information do you have for us Dan?"
"Well Shelly, after talking with the police, we're not quite sure what exactly happened. Each murder has taken place tens of miles apart, and yet they've all happened too recently to be done by one person. It's theorized that this is the work of a fairly large group of people."
"That's horrible Dan. Do we have any suspects thus far?"
"As of yet, no. There's been no signs of any fingerprints, DNA evidence, camera footage, or anything really. The only lead we have at this time comes from a victim of this homicide whose wife was killed about a half-hour ago. They described one of the members as wearing a suit of 'Sci-fi' armor, as he described it. Though how truthful his claims are is yet to be verified. So if you have any information on the whereabouts of these people, or happen to see them at all, please contact your local police department immediately. It's also been advised that we should all stay inside until the situation has been handled, as the murders have taken place all across the city and it is unknown when these people will strike again."
"That's absolutely right Dan. Well there you have it ladies and gentlemen, we'll be back with more news as updates come out, but until then stay tuned and stay inside. Thanks for joining us Dan."
"Thanks for having me, Shelly."
—-
Here it was, apartment 22-B. It sat in a lonesome corner of town far away from anything more urban than a convenience store. There was so much demon filth radiating off of it that it's a miracle The Slayer hadn't sensed it before, as if the trees around it somehow consumed the evil, masking its presence. But alas, here stood the cursed walls with which contained a collection, no doubt, of vile creatures. So The Slayer huffed, and he puffed, and he kicked the door down. This time, the rightmost portion of the door was launched into the building, slamming against the walls into a spray of wood chips, while the left side simply swung along its hinges as it, too, slammed into the wall. Several swift, thunderous footsteps raced into the house's main cavity until The Slayer faced what he presumed to be the source of the fiendish energy.
"...Who, the hell, are you?!" A man in dark robes with white hair stood before a lit fireplace, pointing his revolver into an unilluminated section of the room. "Who the hell do you think you are? Bursting into my house and interrupting my wonderful evening." He trained his gun on The Slayer's head, cocking the hammer situated on the back of the firearm as he added. "But! I'll let you leave, lucky you." The Slayer stepped carelessly towards him, placing a fresh red shell into his shotgun. The man in dark robes discharged his gun, propelling a hot chunk of titanium alloy into The Slayer's visor, half of which fizzled into sparks while the rest reflected off of the glassware as it turned into an ineffectual spray of shrapnel. The Slayer dashed towards the man as he curled his massive hands around his enemy's throat, squeezing hard.
As the now remorseful stranglee attempted to pry The Slayer's hands away from his neck, the hot metal casing of his bullet was tossed out of the gun's chamber. It jumped along the floor, eventually beginning to roll as its vertical momentum ceased, before it escaped into the obscure shadows of the room…until. "Ah!" A young woman yelped in pain as the blessed casing grazed her thigh. The Slayer threw his head to the direction of the noise, locking his eyes upon the image of a girl, no older than seventeen, donning a pair of necrotic, bat-esq wings.
The Slayer loosened his grip around the man's throat, allowing his frail body to drop to the floor, as he walked effortlessly towards the girl. Recognising his murderous intent, as if it had been printed along his chest, the girl began to scream in abject horror. The Slayer, now towering over the woman's trembling body, placed his hulking hands atop her head before pulling it away from her spine, pushing against her shoulder as well to provide extra force. The sound of muscle tendons ripping, bones cracking, and the girls scream all created a haunting cacophony that would petrify anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot. All until it stopped, suddenly. The girl's vocal chords no longer vibrated with oxygen as they now dangled, completely exposed to the soft glow of the fire. Her head fell to the floor, causing a thud that, given the proper context, could sicken the most desensitized of people. Her hair collected blood from her neck, still connected to her body, now gushing a viscus crimson liquid like a broken sprinkler.
Freed watched in silence, stunned in disbelief, as The Slayer began to flee the gory scene he created, his thirst for demon blood not yet quenched. "Wait!" The man protested, now having managed to squeak a bit of air in his lungs. "You're just gonna' leave? Do you have any idea how pissed off I am?! There's no way in Hell I'm letting you go!" A sort of deranged smile spread across his face. The same smile any murderous child, or joyous sychopath, wears during their ritual of tourture. A face completely contradictory to their true feelings. But The Slayer was uninterested in the man's desperate attempts to intimidate him; There were more important things to be done than bicker with a prideful human. "Just you wait! I'll teach you for being so cocky!"
The Slayer whipped off as much viscera from his suit as he could, disregarding the man's warning-if he even paid attention to it to begin with-as he left the house in search for a new victim. How exactly The Slayer managed to discern Hell Energy from the air around it was unknown, even to him, and now that signal was weak. It took a moment to pinpoint a new source and its location, much like a dog's incredible sense of smell, but now there existed a harsh stutter in available information that halted The Slayer's hunting spree. A strange occurrence given his incredible mental prowess…in fact. The Slayer looked to the sky. The previously black expanse of space was replaced with a purple, intricate designed pattern of, frankly, random shapes that coagulated into something you'd find in an incredibly wealthy Mosque, or perhaps the Sistine Chapel. Then suddenly, The Slayer attuned to a new force, a feeling akin to the holy light of the Seraphim, but horribly twisted. Then a figure covered in mysterious shadow emerged from the sky, hovering amidst the air. The figure chuckled, clearly a woman, before descending into the light. "I haven't seen a human hunt demons in millenia. Mostly because they're all dead, but what can you do, hm~?" They studied The Slayer's form before adding. "But you…no, this cannot continue." They touched the ground, unsheathing a spear made of, what appeared to be, pure light encased in Hell Energy. "Unfortunately, this is where your little adventure ends. What a waste of such a handsome body~."
Before she was able to fully articulate her last few words, The Slayer had thrown himself at his adversary, traversing about sixty or so feet in less than a second. A crushing right hook landed squarely into her abdomen, creating a loud thud that paired with her body crashing into the dirt with immense force. "You fucking bastard!" The woman lashed out in anger as she chucked her spear at The Slayer. But as its tip touched his suit, the Hell Energy surrounding the weapon sept into his armor, allowing the light trapped inside to burst out in all directions like a flashbang. A flashbang to which the woman covered her eyes all too late; The image of the light explosion stamped itself into her vision in the form of heavily damaged retina tissue. "Oh God! I can't see! I can't see!" Her incredibly small pupils darted aimlessly from side to side as she screamed to no one in particular until eventually, facing opposite to The Slayer, she declared. "You don't know who you're messing with, kid! I'll be back, and I'll be sure to make your death slow and painful!" She soared into the air with her dark but angelic wings before fizzling out of reality. Her absence seemed to return the sky to its murky black hue, and as a side-effect the metaphorical stench of evil flooded The Slayer's nose.
Thus the hunt continued, for now, as The Slayer jogged toward another clueless victim.
