Welcome, one and all to the next installment of The Human Fiend. Took a little while, but I did it. Summer college is now over…and regular college is about to start up pretty soon. Well, not for a while at least. But for now, it's break time! So just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.
Just a warning to all people that came here from the bloodhound (which is most of you). When I made the proposal to adopt the bloodhound, this was the idea I pitched. Of replacing Ghoul/wraith!Lilith with Demi-Fiend!Lilith. Things are going to be different. And yet, things will stay the same as well. Doctor Cain is still around, and will probably get a mention or cameo at one point. The situation with the potters are still the same.
However, As a half-demon, Lilith's character development will take a different turn. A different turn from ghoul!Lilith, but at the same time it will be a similar theme. Yes, things will be different. That said, there will eventually be a crossover with this and a couple of other things. Considering this is using elements from SMT Nocturne, expect maybe a Devil May Cry element to appear or something. Still debating of I should even involve other anime's that involve demons and such. And to that one person that PM'd me about Highschool DxD, NO I WILL NOT INVOLVE THIS WITH THAT! The only way I would involve it would be to incorporate some elements of the DxD verse, like the sacred gears.
On with the Show!
Nyx's bar and lounge: Make a deal and get out.
She was in the rafters, the beams and pillars above. Ropes and blocks of wood everywhere as she jumped from one spot to another.
Inhaling the air, she let out a sigh of contention as she absorbed the fear in the air. It was a dry taste on her tongue, with a slightly sweet aftertaste. It was nice, it tasted good to her. But she preferred the taste of lust and wrath. Lust was a sweet and sour kind of flavor that was just the right blend, while anger was a spicy sour flavor. With but a tinge of dryness added in.
Hopping about in the rafters, she made sure that they could all hear the thumps and stomps she made. It only increased their fear, and in turn, the flavor she was feeling on her tongue, and on her skin. She loved it. She well and truly did.
Before she would cower in fear, fear from her uncle. She would always run away when he got that scary red glow in his eyes. At that point she would see lines pulsate on him. It truly put the fear of god into her. But now…now she was putting fear into people.
And she loved it. It was so much fun.
Seeing these…humans…cry, shout, and whimper when she made the simplest of noises was just so fun! Especially when they started to beg after she ripped one of their heads off…it made this weird red liquid stuff pour out of him when she did that. It kind of reminded her of the red color that would come out of her skin when she got hurt by something sharp…
Speaking of…
…ah, they screamed when she threw the head down there. Although, now that they did that she was beginning to smell something really weird. Why was one of those four preachers plus a nun on his knees saying to forgive what he did?
And on that note, what does 'disemboweling a hooker' mean?
Ah great…the rest have started to follow suit. Why are they all on their knees?
"Oh dear, it would seem that these righteous holy men, plus a woman, aren't as pure as they would like the people to believe. 'All for the generous donations!' me thinks." Spoke up the Fairy on her shoulder.
The child simply tilted its head to the side. Confusion marrying its tattoo marked face. The Fairy saw the look it was giving it and sighed. "Looks like it's up to me to educate you on the truths of the world…luckily for you, I've had a lot of human contracts. I've been to a lot of places. But first…"
A smile fixed itself onto the tiny beings face. "Want to see something cool?"
The strange child curled its lip into a smile. Its curiosity stocked. "What is it? Is it magic? Kind of like what you did to make sure those people couldn't leave?"
The Fairy smiled. "Just watch…" And then it trained its eyes onto one of the groveling priests, and pointed at it with its index finger.
"Zio!" the Fae said with a smirk on its face. Quick as a flash, yellow lightning zipped from the small humanoids finger, and connected to one the priest the fairy pointed at. The man's screams of agony as he was cooked alive was oddly pleasant to the child's ears. But that wasn't what she was interested in.
No, she was fascinated by the flavor of the pain the man was giving off.
It was just so delicious! It was amazing! There was nothing to compare it to! Not even those sweets she would steal from her cousin tasted as good as what the priest was giving off!
It was at this point that the child heard a *crack* noise resound in the back of her head. She likened it to the sound of breaking glass. It was after this happened that a glint appeared in the child's eye. It then raised its hand…and pointed its finger towards the clustered holy men and women.
"Zio."
Lightning zipped through, and electrocuted another of the five men. His screams produced a flavor that was just so Exquisite!
"Oooh! A copycat hm? Well…try copying this!" cheered out the fairy as it pointed it's finger towards the same man that she had fried.
"Dia." The fairy spoke, and a bright green light glowed around the man. When the light dimmed down, it revealed the same man in the priestly robes…except he had no visible burns. And his clothing was repaired as well.
Again, a *crack* noise resounded in the back of the child's skull.
The man was obviously bewildered. He constantly looked left and right, looking for the cause of his healing. And then his eyes drifted towards the priest that was barely breathing, and then towards the six children chained to the wall.
The man fell to his knees, and the child knew the flavor of despair.
It was a bitter sweet taste. A rather decent one at that.
And then, the barely alive priest on the floor was enveloped in a bright green light, much like the other priest that got zapped by lightning. When the light dimmed down, he too was free of his burns and wounds, and the man's robe was repaired as well.
"Agi!"
The one women that belonged with the group, the sole nun, was then lit on fire. The children chained to the wall screamed in fright, just like they did when the priests got electrocuted. The priests too screamed, they screamed an backed up against the stone walls.
She screamed and screamed and screamed…until eventually, she was naught but a piece of charcoal.
"Agi."
Another of the priests was burned until he was nothing but a twitching black mass.
"Dia." The nun was healed. And then the priest. And then cycle started anew. Moving on from gale force winds, to bone chilling ice. To iron like claws and entrails spilling curses. It was a taste of hell for the church committee.
The screams emanating from the basement of the Cathedral would go on for hours. Only stopping when the break of dawn approached.
Oddly enough, no one heard them. No one heard the priests and one nun beg for forgiveness, confessing crime after crime.
No one heard the pleas of wails of despair from the children chained to the wall.
No one heard them. No one at all.
Strolling up the street, headlights illuminating the concrete road was a police car. One without the flashing lights that regularly accompanied a police siren, but a police car nonetheless.
Following the path of the city streets, the car took a sudden turn from the regular city road, instead pulling into an alleyway. The car drove down the alley for a good minute or two, and then stopped in the middle of a spotlight cast by a nearby lamp…
…a lamp that was in the middle of a dank and dark alleyway…
The two doors at the front of the car opened, and out popped two investigation officers that seemed to be in the middle of a discussion of some kind.
"-And don't forget that tidbit Connors. If anyone asks you for a bit of 'fun', then politely decline. These people's definition of fun is completely different from a regular persons'." Spoke the one that got out from the driver's side (the left side, remember, this ain't America).
"Phelps, I'm pretty sure your exaggerating. It's not like we're dealing with some unknown element here. We're dealing with humans, people on even ground with us." Scoffed Connors as he got out from the right side of the vehicle.
As the two of them approached a door with what appeared to be a reverse hexagram symbol on it, they straightened their ties and smoothed out any creases on their suites. Phelps idly fiddled with the gun he brought, loading it up with custom bullets while his partner stared.
The stare did not go unnoticed. "Connors, this can be a very dangerous place regardless of who we work for. Do not, I repeat, do not talk to anyone without me being there by your side. Keep one hand on your gun at all times, and always be ready to make a break for it." the man said with a cold hard stare.
Connors got the message. Even I don't know how this little expidenture will turn out. "Alright, alright. I'll be your shadow, your bodyguard. Whatever. Do I need to go for the intimidation look or do I just have to pull off the smooth suave drinking buddy routine we did last week?"
Phelps snorted at that. "Buddy, just stick by my side and be ready for anything. The folks here…aren't exactly what we would call normal. At least by natural standards." He said while putting his gun, a regular old pistol, back onto where he could easily draw it.
"So they're supernatural then? Sounds like my kind of party." Connors said with a grin. Phelps almost chocked right there, but held it in as he went forward and pushed open the door. Said door only opened when he pushed on the middle of the reverse hexagram with the palm of his hand, revealing the contents inside.
As it turns out, Nyx's bar wasn't a seedy underground bar full of drug dealers and criminal masterminds. In fact, it was a quaint little place. With a few tables, a couple of booths, a second floor, and a smoking area. All in all, a nice place to just sit down and chill.
That is if you could ignore the bars'…less than stellar patrons. In which case, the rough and tumble types that hanged around the smoking area. Armed and loaded with weapons built for killing. From a shotgun, to an assault riffle. There was even a guy sharpening a katana in a booth as a smoked from a pipe.
And then there were the…unique individuals that also prowled about the bar.
The first person Connors noted was the…cat girl…with the wolverine claws standing by a small closed off space, leaning against the wall and flickering her eyes towards him. Slited, amber eyes that looked like she was comparing him to a mouse that she had just caught.
There was the feller drinking from a glass of wine that he could see on the second floor. Slightly curly black hair, all white clothing with a red bat symbol on the back, and a sword leaning against a wall. He looked like the most normal person so far, besides the thugs hanging around the smoking area.
It was at this point that Connors noticed that Phelps was leading him towards a bar counter with a woman in a fur coat washing something. She was turned around with her back towards him, but he could just vaguely make out the earrings on her ears. It was when she was turning around that he noticed just how she-
Pausing, as if struck by something, Connors couldn't help but stare. Phelps turned around and raised an eyebrow at his partner. He followed Connors gaze and let his eyes rest on a woman in a fur coat manning the bar.
Why would he-oh…oh dear.
He was besmitten with Nyx. Lovely. Trust his partner to actually go gaga over the owner of the bar they were currently at to try and get answers.
Lovely, he cursed. This was going to be nothing short of bothersome. Sighing, he decided to get his partner back on track…by smacking him upside the head. Gibs style.
"The hell man?" Connors whined as he fixed his black tie in an effort to make himself look better. This was not the first time he had been hit like that. He was generally the recipient of gibs smacks from just about anyone. Both outside his department, and outside. Even the boss lady got in on it.
Especiallythe boss lady!
"Shut it, I warned you. You have no idea what that woman can do. So just can it and let me do all the work will you?" the man nearly snarled.
Pushy. If there was one thing Connors had yet to see of his partner, it was him being pushy. As well as a dick. And a paranoid fuck. But, there's a first time for everything…this was just one of those times.
Following his lead, Connors and Phelps took two stools in front of the bar. Setting his eyes towards the back of the bar, he began to see what was in stock. There were some fine wines, a couple of brands he recognized, some he didn't.
There were some regular beers as well. However, there were some things that he couldn't recall ever seeing in any other bar. Hell, some of them he didn't even recognize them as alcohol. For one, at the bottom shelf, there were these strange…"Bead" like…crystal ball things. They curved at one end, and kinda looked like one half of a yin-yang symbol.
Strange. Maybe they were part of a collection. He didn't count the exact amount, but he knew that there were at least more than twenty of them. Easily twice that number. Just what the hell were those things?
Now the drinks he didn't recognize were completely strange. They looked like they slightly glowed, something that immediately rang alarm bells in his mind. More red flags were raised when he saw that there was some kind of…substance moving up and down inside of them. That certainly made him freak slightly.
It was then that he was reminded of what his partner kept on telling him. That this place wasn't a normal bar. Kicking himself, he began to analyze the area around him. From the hardwood floors that were polished and completely spot free, to the wax that kept the bar counter clean without mark.
He turned his eyes, but didn't turn to look, towards the left. He could see the cat looking woman eyeing like a piece of prey. Looking closer, he could faintly make out the droplets of blood on the claw arm.
His eyes narrowed and he began to finger the gun in his coat pocket. Priming it ready for a quick draw shot. There was no way he was going to act comfortable in this place anymore.
He turned his eyes to the right, seeing one of the gruff looking people, and noticing the many, many scars that littered the mans face. His brown, army reminiscent clothes were torn and frizzled. As if he had just recently gotten out of a fight and stopped by at this bar to rest before going home.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Phelps chatting up the bartender. Who also happened to double as this absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous older woman in a fur coat. She just had this air that screamed 'Sophisticated'.
And then his eyes narrowed when he saw Phelps bring out a piece of paper and put it on the bar counter, beckoning the bartender (who Connors was pretty sure was actually the bar owner) to come closer and take a look. The detective couldn't get a decent look, but he was pretty sure that whatever was on the piece of paper looked like some kind of fancy hexagram. However, his attention was grabbed by something else.
A sudden *Thwack* caught drew his curiosity elsewhere. And with the swiftness of someone who regularly exercised a couple of hours each day, he drew his gun and levied his attention towards the sound that erupted to his left. Pointing his gun at the unexpected noise.
His eyes fell onto the figure from the second floor. His hands were around the head of some kind of scantily clad woman with bat wings, pushing her against the bar counter. Her head was being pressed by the mans large hands. The man in the white coat tilted his head and gazed into the barrel of Connors' gun.
"It would seem that my assistance wasn't needed…" muttered the man as he let go of the scantily clad bat-lady. Said woman scowled at the white clad swordsman, and then huffed and walked away. The White clad man with the red bat symbol on his back turned his gaze towards Connors's eyes. The man then smiled and held out his hand.
"My name is Kresnik. What is yours my good fellow?" he asked with a kind smile. His voice, unsurprisingly, was of a rather deep baritone. Connors put his gun back into the folds of his coat, eyes never leaving those of Kresnik. Finally he relented and shook the man's and. "Henry. Detective Henry Connors."
The man grinned at that. "Ah, a member of the force. What brings you here to Nyx's bar?" he asked while sitting down. Oddly enough, the moment he sat down the bar owner put a glass full of wine down in front of him, while also putting down a glass of whiskey on front of Connors.
Looking down, Connors could see Phelps looking at him with a critical eye. As if warning him not to make small talk…or talk at all.
Well, to hell with that. Kresnik just got him a drink…and he wasn't so bad…so far.
"Well…" began Connors, watching the bar lady walk back over to Phelps. "There was a murder in an alleyway early this evening." He said, noticing the hard look that came into the white clad mans' eyes. "I never saw what happened in the alleyway…but my partner over there" he motioned towards the man, "felt that we could get some answers by coming here."
"Interesting…odd that a murder like that would happen two days after…" Kresnik muttered under his breath. It was low, but Connors heard it. he didn't press however, merely filed it away for future reference.
"Was there anything else that was strange…about this murder location? Anything amiss?" prodded the man as he took a sip of his wine. Connors swept his eyes to the side to peek at his partner, noting that he was still chatting up the bar owner, trying to prod for information.
'Well…two can play at that game mister…'
"The only other thing strange involves a major car accident at 1'o'clock this morning. An investigation born of curiosity was made…and shocking facts were discovered. Ever heard of a man by the name of Vernon Dursley?"
It was bait. Something to draw in the mans attention. Would it work? Judging by the attention that Kresnik was fixing him with, Connors would say that he had succeeded.
"Vernon Dursley. Businessman, family caretaker. Respected in his neighborhood, held in high regard by his boss…and secret child torturer in the closet."
Connors could almost feel the coldness radiating off of the man sitting next to him as he took a shot of whiskey.
"And…how did you find about the man's skeletons?" asked the white clad man as he took a sip of his fine wine. His face set in a stony, cold expression.
"As it turns out, the poor kid is in actually the man's niece." He locked eyes with the man sitting next to him. "Locked in a cupboard. Beneath the stairs. Infested by spiders. Covered in dust. With only a mattress and a sheet that needed to be cleaned."
At this point he needed to say no more. But why stop there? Why not add more cheese to the pizza?
"Scratches littering the walls of the cupboard. Blood stains on the wall and door. And a pair of broken glasses, as well as broken glass scattered beneath the mattress."
There was a bit of silence between the two men as they each took sips/shots of their respective drinks. Which were refilled by the bar owner.
"And…what happened to this…Vernon Dursley?" calmly asked the man without much telling of any emotion. But Connors could see it. If the tight grip of his sword's scabbard was anything to go by.
"That car wreck I mentioned? He died in it. As well as his family. Interesting fact is…we never found the abused kid. In fact, when we searched outside of the wreck…we found interestingly shaped tracks in the mud. Like someone was pulling themselves through the muck, trying to save themselves. There were drops of blood pointing towards the alleyway I mentioned earlier as well." He replied with a grimace. Recounting the details so far didn't exactly bring up happy memories. What he failed to mention was the pieces of skin and gastric juices that were littered in the mud as well.
Again, silence reigned. Eventually it was broken. By the white clad man. He took a sip of his wine, before setting the empty glass on the bar counter. It wasn't refilled this time. "About three days ago a group of five men and woman came into this bar. They approached a handsome looking man and made a deal with him." he said.
Turning to the side, Connors raised an eyebrow at the man. Kresnik did not turn to face him. "I don't know what the details were, I was on the second floor at the time so I didn't see what exactly happened. All that I know is that they bared the insignia for the cult of Gaea, and that they received a book in return for a magatama jewel."
Connors had to smile at that. "Thank you. You've been a big help in this case Mr. Kresnik. Have a good day, and take care."
And like that, he left his spot by the man and walked up to his partner, who had signaled him to get up and follow him out. Connors had to let out a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the bar. Being in that place just made him on guard, like he could be attacked at any moment.
That, and coupled with the bar's…unsavory guests, as well as the couple of people that made his hair stand on end, like the cat girl…well, it was more than reason enough to want to get out and dodge.
He was broken out of his thoughts by his partner, who had opened up his side, the driver's side, and was about to get into the car.
"I ain't got much. I got that something was stolen five days ago, and that a bounty was placed out on a woman. Dursley had apparently pissed off someone who had connections to a mercenary troupe. Kind of explains the foul play in the wreck. Did you get anything on your end?" gruffly asked Phelps as he got himself seated into the police car.
Connors, who had also climbed into the vehicle, turned to stare at Phelps as he pulled down his seatbelt and buckled in. "Yeah I got a few tidbits...one question first though."
"And what would that be?" replied Phelps, a tired look in his eyes as he started up the car. Connors took one look at his eyes and yawned. A tired yawn, not a yawn because he wasn't breathing enough.
"Yeah. What the hell is the Cult of Gaea?"
"Isn't it amazing what a little hypnosis can do? Just mess with one persons mind and you can immediately just crash at their house and raid the fridge to your hearts leisure." Smirked the fairy as it flied backwards, positioned as if she was lying down, through the doorway into the living room of the apartment.
The demon-child had wanted to go to sleep after feeding off of the church people's emotions. However, the fairy would have none of that. The fairy would take only the most relaxing of accommodations. And as such, had dragged the child toward The Dorchester, a rather luxurious hotel in London.
The child however, was spending her time switching channels on the flat screen T.V that was attached to the wall away from the incredibly comfy couch. In the child's hand was a glass of orange juice, which she was happily sucking out through a swirly bendy straw.
On the couch, by the demon-child's was a fruit bowl, which the fairy soon descended upon and began to ravage the grapes. The child payed it no mind as she dug into a bag of cheetos that she filched from the small pantry. The fairy idly stared at what her contractor had decided to watch…at 1'o'clock in the morning.
"Digimon Savers? Doesn't that season suck compared to the other ones?" drawled out the fairy as it took out a chunk of a strawberry. The juice almost splattering her, if it didn't immediately evaporate off of her in small bouts of steam.
The child only took a sip from her orange juice. "Never watched the show. I was either always working or being locked up in my cupboard. Dudley never let me watch T.V. But I remember seeing this show on some times. Though it might be nice to actually watch it."
The fairy, for her part, only raised an eyebrow. "Huh." She said while taking another bite out of a orange. Her eyes never leaving the T.V screen as Belphemon ravaged Tokyo. "I thought abuse was frowned upon in human society? Weird. Wasn't this Vernon guy your uncle?" she asked the demon-child.
At that, the half-demon frowned. "I think it is. But whenever I told anyone about it they talked with uncle Vernon and didn't do anything. I kinda stopped trying after a while. Less yellings from him that way." The child admitted as she stuck her hand back into the bag of cheetos (jalapeño, extra crunchy cheetos) and shoved another mouthful of the snack food into her mouth.
At that, the fairy stopped and looked at her contractor with a critical eye. Before shrugging and going back to watching Marcus Daimon punch a mega level digimon in the face. "You know, your oddly nonchalant about your uncle. Blew off some steam in that alleyway didn't you?" the fairy smirked in remembrance of the sight she saw upon being summoned into the mortal world.
At that, the demon-child shrugged. "Probably. I mean, when I woke up in that alleyway after…whatever it was that weird man put in my eye I kind of just saw each of those guys as my uncle. That and I was just so angry…it was pretty fun though. Kind of want to do it again." The child said with a smirk as she watched ShineGreymon Burst Mode level a badass death glare towards Belphemon/Kurata.
The fairy grinned at that. "A girl after my own heart." She snickered to herself as she lounged about on the couch. A wistful sigh escaped the fairy's mouth after she layed down on the couch, her head resting on her propped up arm. "Wish there was a computer in here. I haven't been on the internet in a long time. Or the Amala for that matter…"
"What's the Amala?" asked the child curiously. Another sip from the bendy straw draining the last of the orange juice. Seeing this, the child proceeded to reach down to the floor, and pulled a packet of orange juice off of the carpet. Held it over the glass, and used its index finger of its incredibly sharp claw hand to cut open the packet, pouring it into the glass.
The child then threw the empty packet behind her, and onto trash pile behind the couch. It would seem that the cleanup crew was going to have a ball cleaning up this room.
"Huh." Said the fairy as it tapped one finger on its chin. "How to describe the Amala network…" mumbled the fairy before she turned to face the female child. "Think of it like the demon equivalent of the human's internet. Except a lot more…chaotic if that was even possible. Demons used to only use it to get some free magutsuhi. But in recent times it's more of a information trade network. With a pay-in, pay-out dispenser at any and all terminals. Humans use it to ya know?"
At that, the demon child blinked a few times, before taking its attention away from the T.V screen. "How does that work?" the child asked with a tilt of its head. Confusion marrying its face. The fairy blinked in surprise, before raising an eyebrow towards its contractor.
"Unusually bright for a six year old-just-turned-into-a-demon-child-that-Was-formally-abused…" the fairy muttered under its breath. And then its eyes blinked twice before she slapped her own forehead. "Of course if she was turned into a demon at a young age unlike the first one then it would make sense for the transformation to effect her in more than one way…" she mumbled, taking in another grape into digging into it with vicious abadon.
"You still haven't answered my question." The half-human's words snapped the fairy out of lala-land and brought its attention back to its conversation partner.
The fairy took a deep breath, gorged on another orange slice, and then breathed out. "Well, unlike the human internet the Amala network is only accessible from terminals specifically made to tune themselves into it. While the internet can be accessed from anything with a wifi access. And I mean anything. Even a freaking toaster can access the internet. Trust me, I took a contract from a nutjob that did just that."
There was a bit of silence after that. That silence was only broken when the show on the T.V went into the credits. The voice of the demon child broke through the sounds of the fairy devouring the fruits of the bowl with a ravenous delight.
"…You know, I never got your name."
More silence. That, and a fairy shrug. "Don't have one. Most demons just refer to me as Pixie. But that's more of my kind of demon than anything else. Pixie of the fairy clan."
"Oh." Said the demon child as it watched the T.V screen show the intro to a show in a futuristic setting about a delivery boy wearing goggles and riding a hover board.
"My names Lilith. Just Lilith."
At that, Pixie snorted. "Really? Lilith? Just wait till you meet the actual Lilith. You know, the first woman?"
Confusion. And a frowny face. "Never heard of her."
The fairy stopped ripping apart a poor peach and looked at Lilith, who was sitting right next to her, sipping on a glass of orange juice. "Ever read the bible?"
"Never went to church. Uncle always told me that someone like me would never be accepted there. He was always mean when he had those glowy eyes."
A sigh. "That's probably a good thing. Half of it's a bunch of fancy lies; the other half is just a recounting of all the reasons why one should never fight for the side of Law."
A curios tilt of the head. "The side of Law?"
A hand wave. "Law, Chaos, different sides of the same war. We'll get to them later. But first, I have one question to ask you. Ever been on the internet?"
"…no…"
"I am going to educate you. By the time I'm done with you, you will have learned all of the important truths of the world."
"…Why are your eyes sparkling? And why do I feel scared just by looking at that smile on your face?"
"Probably because by the time I'm done with you, you won't be an innocent murder happy child. Now then, change it to channel 387. That's the station South Park plays on."
"Now then…what have you two gotten so far?"
And like that, a sheet of files flopped down onto the police chief's desk. The room was a boring white and grey. With a white ceiling with lights that shined down on the room, and a grey carpet that was intermixed with thin strips of blue and red.
Of course the woman herself as wearing a black business suit, as well as a black skirt that went down to her knees. Showing off some leg, but not a whole lot. Her dark red hair was still over one eye, and still trailed down her back and glossed over her shoulder.
Henry Connors and Takami Phelps stood in front of the seated woman on the other side of her desk. Connors was wearing a dark blue suit with a white tie, while Phelps was wearing a black suit with a red tie. Both were wearing fedoras. However Connors' had a checkerboard motif, while Phelps's was a rather blank black.
The police chief took the folder and began to skim through it. Stopping at one file and looking at the two detectives with a raised eyebrow. "The cult of Gaea? What's their involvement in this?"
It was Phelps that answered. "Their involvement is the summoning circle in the alleyway. The one with the dismembered body strewn everywhere. You remember right?" A nod was sent in his direction. As well as a hand gesture that translated to 'go on.'
"No doubt forensics has already told you how many people where in that alleyway right?" he prodded, asking for confirmation.
"Five men and one woman. Took a while, but they got it. We even have the I.D's of the people involved in whatever went down in that alleyway. I sent their files to your desk earlier this morning." She then took a sip from her mug of coffee, and reclined back into her chair.
Connors spoke up then. "Those six people where members of this cult. I found out that they supposedly made a deal with someone that was described as handsome. All that I found out was that they gave the man a kind of bead-shaped jewel in return for a book of sorts."
At that, the police chief's eyes swiveled towards Phelps. "Do you think it was a book on summoning demons?"
At that, Phelps nodded and Connors grimaced. By now, he had had an entire nights rests to think on what he had learned. About the world, about the demons that infested the world. About the eternal war going on between the forces of Law and Chaos. And of how each side didn't truly care about humanity as a whole, merely seeing them as a means to an end.
The police chief sighed. And then focused her attention back onto Phelps. "While I'm used to dealing with the supernatural, demons are something new to me. I'm more used to the unsavory side of humanity…what do you think happened down there? Was it a summoning gone wrong?"
Phelps frowned, and then shuffled his hands into his pockets. "The thing is, while it was complete amateur work, it was still a successful summons. What probably happened is that even though they succeeded in summoning whatever it was that came out of the portal, they probably royally screwed up the negotiations."
Both Connors and the Police Chief frowned. "Explain." Ordered the woman sitting at her desk.
Clearing his throat, Phelps began to elaborate. "Think of it like this, even if you make a contract with a demon, they will need a down payment before they bind themselves to you. That's where things get tricky. You see, some can be bribed to work with you. Others will want specific items, like a certain jewel or valuable item. Others…well, others you just have to have a way with words. Some will join your side if you can tell them a damn good joke, impress them with your character, or even if you promise to be their friend."
And then his face scowled. "However, most of them will attack you if you fail to win them over. Some of them will just hightail out of there with the items you bribed them with. And others will just flat out ignore you if you can't impress them. It's a tricky business, and one that can easily kill you if you make one misstep."
"And what happens when the summoners get killed by the demon he or she summoned?"
"…Then the demon does whatever. It will either return from whence it came…or it will wonder off and do as it pleases."
At that, the Police Chiefs eyes hardened as she stared at the detective. "Are you telling me that there is a demon…an honest to god demon, running around my city…and no one knows about the danger it presents? About what kind of destruction it can do? A demon that we don't even know the identity of? A demon that could very well be as strong as a goddamn earthquake!?" she yelled out, eyes hard and cold as the frozen north, and her hands slammed down onto the desk. Her mouth was warped into a snarl that conveyed the outrage she was feeling at this moment.
"Not necessarily. It's just one of two possibilities."
At that, the Police Chief sat back down, and fixed a glare towards Phelps. "One of two? What's the other situation we could have on our hands?"
Phelps turned to his partner. Connors met his gaze and nodded his head. The Police Chief swiveled her head towards the white-tied detective. "Alright…" he said, reaching for a pack of cigars, but found that they weren't on him. Silently cursing, the man moved on.
"About 1'o'clock in the morning yesterday there was a car wreck. A big one, with lots of casualties and injured people. Me and Phelps went around and did a bit of investigating, found signs of foul play. One of the people in the accident, a dead guy by the name of Vernon Dursley, had a history of pissing off people by making unexpected business deals and generally screwing people over. Generic stuff."
The detective then began to pace around. "Thing is, we kind of suspected some kind of foul play going on with the man. Shady shit. Like cloak and dagger bullshit we normally deal with here in the police force. Turns out, we were right. Well, kind of. The man was messed up in the head, super paranoid. Like jumping at shadows kind of paranoid. So we went up to his house to do a bit of investigating. That's when the weird shit started happening."
The police Chief raised an eyebrow. But did nothing to stop the man from recounting the events from his perspective.
"The neighborhood was…how to put it…? Completely creepy. All the houses were the same. Perfect lawn, perfect white picket fence. And it felt like everyone in the area was watching us or something. I get out of the car, and I see Phelps looking at the window of the house belonging to some random old lady. He waves at her, and she shuts the blinds. Rude, yes, I know. That's when we split; Phelps went up to the Dursley house, while I went and asked the lovely locals some simple questions. What I got…ain't pretty."
At that, the Police Chief groaned. "And this all started as a car wreck. Now it's involving demons and the supernatural world. What did you find out?" she asked as she pulled out a bottle of wine from her bottommost desk drawer on the left side.
Phelps's eyes lit up when he saw the bottle. "Goddamn that is one hell of an old bottle of wine. Think I can have some?"
A snort. "Maybe later when you solve this case Phelps. Connors, continue."
Connors had to push down a snigger. "What I got was backstory that made me question the people in the neighborhood. They painted Vernon Dursley as this kind man who valued work efficiency and took care of what seemed to be the perfect family. As in, they were a living family that was a model all should aspire to. That he was a decidedly normal and all that other bullcrap. I think there's something in the water, because between those people definition of normal, and the rest of the worlds, something is obviously getting mixed up and-"
"Connors!" barked the Police Chief. "Focus!"
"Er…right. Sorry." He at least had the decency to look sheepish. He then cleared his throat…again. "Apparently the only black spot that was the Dursley family was the man's niece-in-law, one Lilith Potter. Who was apparently some kind of deranged, messed up, drug chugging kid of a whopping age of six. She was apparently destined for St. Brutus for the criminally insane or something. After a while I just began to tune out the bullshit that each member of the neighborhood kept on regurgitating. Although none of that compares to the shit Phelps found in the Dursley's house." He said with a pointed thumb.
The Police Chief switched her gaze from Connors, and back to Phelps. "Apparently, living in hiding, all over the world, from London to the USA, to China, and every country in the world, are magical societies. As in, witches and Wizards. Magic. Humans born with their own breed of magic, not like the demon magic a summoner can gain with the aid of the Demon Summoning Program."
At that revelation, the Police Chief groaned. "Another supernatural world? Just what we needed. Another one."
Connors spoke up with a grin. "I read through the journals and crap Phelps had me grab. Apparently they're kind of stuck in Victorian times, or at least something close to it. And the magic they do…it's friggin' hilarious! All they do is wave a want and say a bunch of funny words and then shit happens! It's great! Apparently they have some kind of spell-thingy-mah-jig that lets them have an upper almost instantly! They apparently learn that one when their thirteen years old!" the man laughed out while his partner punched the bridge of his nose.
However, the Police Chief wasn't putting up with any of that. She slammed her fist on the table like a judge would a gravel. Her frosty, ice-like eyes glaring at the detective. "Connors. While I find this revelation fascinating, would you please continue on? We have little time to waste."
The man put his hands in front of him, a general sing of surrender. "Gotcha boss lady, I gotcha." And then his face lost its cheer. "Back to the topic at hand, the whole neighborhood of private drive couldn't be any more wrong about the truth behind the man known as Vernon Dursley. Inside his house there was a cupboard. That cupboard was where the mans niece slept. You might want to look at the very back of that folder ma'am. It should give you an idea of what we found. And like I said…it ain't pretty."
A grimace found its way onto the Police Chiefs face. She idly noted that she had been doing that more often as of late. Shrugging the thought away she reached for the slightly crumpled folder of files, and then stopped when she got to the very back.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. "I do believe that Vernon Dursley will not be receiving a grave. Or a funeral for that matter. In fact, I would say that he won't even be remembered at all." She spoke in a perfectly calm and even voice. However, if one looked hard enough, they would see the terrible and frightening flames hidden behind her icy cold eyes.
"Message received Chief…" saluted Phelps. Connors just looked at his boss with a frown. Without receiving any word from his boss, he continued on.
"Now, after Phelps ran out of the house like a bat out of hell, and told me to grab a box and get a move on, he drove us back towards the scene of the wreck. By then it was mostly cleaned up, but we were able to find some things we didn't the first time around. Things like…rather interestingly shaped tracks with bits and pieces of flesh, as well as droplets of blood mixed into the muck."
And now, he had the attention of his boss. He continued on.
"We followed these tracks to an alleyway…an alleyway that was swarming police. One of them comes up to us and tells us that the Police Chief with the finest ass in the world wanted to talk to us. Naturally, we found it weird and all, but orders are orders. So we go up to meet our fair and noble leader…and well, you know the rest at that point right?"
"You still haven't told me what this second scenario of yours is." The stern woman stated with a frown…and was that a tint of pink that Connors saw? He dismissed it as a trick of the light and focused on his partner, who had taken in a deep breath.
"There were only six victims. Five men and one woman. If the tracks lead us to the alleyway were the summoning ritual happened…then where's the body of the girl?"
And like that, the proverbial gears in the head of the Police Chief began to whir. And then they stopped when the realization dawned on her.
"Are you saying…that instead of the demon killing on those cult of Gaea members…it instead made a contract with Vernon Dursley's niece? That it killed six of those people…but took the girl with it?" questioned the dark red haired woman, who had pursed her lips and was staring at Phelps.
It was Connors that spoke up. "It seems like a more likely action the demon would take. If what I got from the journals and dairies we got from the Dursley's house, that kid is supposedly of Witch/Wizard blood. Maybe she did something that gained it the attention and favor of the demon summoned? Or maybe it was impressed with what the kid had done. Surviving a car accident and literally crawling towards an alleyway that was about a half mile distance through the rain and muck. That's pretty damn unbelievable for a kid to do."
"Do we know what she looks like?"
"Black hair, emerald green eyes. Small body, probably due to malnourishment. Possibly scared of everything around her. Gonna put out a word for every cop in town to look for her, and report any sightings?" answered Phelps. His arms crossed across his chest.
"Do you even have to ask? I'll be doing it first thing after you two leave my office. The kids probably crying in some corner alone with only a demon of unknown nature there for comfort. The kid might be illiterate too if the level of abuse is anything to go by. Probably going to have to do something to help the kid get a start on an actual education.
"And once you're done with that, you can get started on this!"
The book flopped down onto the library table.
"What's pride and prejudice about?"
"It's about why you don't make deals with demons of the vile clan."
I only have one last question at this point. Just why would those cult of Gaea people try to summon a demon? What is the purpose behind it all?"
At that question, the Police Chief turned to the only one among the three of them that could qualify as an 'expert' among demons. Phelps frowned as he stroked his chin, a bit of a perma stubble hanging onto it.
"The cult of Gaea has always preached an ideology that only the strong should survive. That, and freewill is paramount. They don't discriminate, they accept any and all, human or not. As long as the person joining is strong, they can join. If they were attempting to summon a demon, and not rely on their own strength…then that probably means they were trying to gain more power to fight something. But the question to that is…what?"
It was at that moment that the door to the Police Chiefs office slammed open, and a wide-eyed man entered, looking incredibly stressed and scared.
"Boss…you gotta come and see this. It's freaky, like what the fuck kind of freaky." The man breathed out. His back was hunched and his knees were bent like he was ready to move out at a moment's notice.
The Chief got out of her seat and adorned her white fur coat. She then opened her drawer and pulled out a gun, a six-shot revolver to be exact. She then walked to a corner of her office, and grabbed a saber off of the wall, as well as it's scabbard, and sheathed the blade. She then walked over to the haggard looking man with the sheathed sword held in one hand. The detective duo had already cocked and loaded their guns, using the special ammo that Phelps used for his gun.
"What exactly is going on Steven? What's happening? Where?" the Chief asked, her voice stern and commanding.
"I don't know what the fuck I saw. It was at the London Library…It was some kind of…huge, Chinese…lady thing. It was terrifying boss…it was eating people! She just ripped them apart and gobbled them up! What kind of monster is it!?" the man yelled out as he looked to his superior for directions.
Phelps and Connors shared a look, and a grimace. However the Police chief looked at the scared man in front of her. "Steven, call in any and all available officers. Tell them to get the civilians away from that library…as well as to pack heat. Go! Now!"
"Yes ma'am!" and like that, he scurried to work. Sending out one giant call for all those out in the city to hear.
With him gone, the Police Chief turned to the two detectives. "Either this is whatever the cult of Gaea was preparing for…or it's the demon that was summoned yesterday. I honestly don't know which one I would prefer it to be. Phelps, do you think you can call in any help from your contacts?"
The man's frown deepened. "Afraid not Chief. Demon summoners and demon tamers don't exactly…work together. Or with each other for that matter. Not unless you belong to a specific group or gang. Although I do know someone who might be willing to help…I'll have to call up Nyx for that thought."
At that, Connors turned to his partner. "How the hell did you get that beauty's phone number!? Seriously, you had the number of a literal goddess and you didn't tell me!?" the man exclaimed, aghast at his partner.
Said man glared at his partner. "Now's not the time Connors, we have work to do!"
"He's right." Spoke the Police Chief. Her eyes cold clear ice. Commanding, and driven. She fixed the two of them with a hard stare that made them straighten themselves before her.
"Gentleman, tis' time for us to go kill a monster."
Potter Manor, the dwelling place of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. An old, old magic family with trace roots in Egypt, Greece, and Scotland. Rumored to be descendent of the famous Wizard, Godric Gryffindor himself. And claimed to be the descendents of the Peveral brothers as well. They were of old blood. Ancient and powerful. However, not all of the Potter family could claim to be of old blood.
Lily-Evans-Potter, the wife of Auror James Potter, and the mother of the Boy-Who-Lived himself. Hailed as the best, and most brightest Witch of her generation, and had recently woken up from working herself to death trying to come up with a new charm.
Blearily, she rose up from her spot on the bed. Idly, she noticed that there was an empty spot when there shouldn't be, meaning her husband had already left for work. That meant that she had either overslept, or that her husband had already waken the kids up, and was taking care of them while she slept.
'You need to sleep lils. You probably need it even more than I do.' He had told her. And it would seem that he had abided by that statement as well, considering that he didn't even bother to wake her up.
Blinking her eyes, Lily moved to get herself out of bed. Slipping on the pink, fluffy house shoes that looked like bunnies onto her feet, and putting on a robe. She faintly heard the voices of Remus Lupin as he chased after William, Lilith's twin brother.
The Lady of house Potter suddenly stopped in her tracks. The name Lilith reverberating inside of her head.
Her mind conjured forth images that always brought both a smile to her face, and a terrible pang of sorrow inside of her heart.
'she would have been six years old by now…' the Lady Potter thought with a sad sigh. She then began to immerse herself in thoughts and memories of the child that she had pushed out into the world, the child that she loved. The child that she would have died for if it ever came to that.
The child that she abandoned. Left her in the care of her sister and her husband.
'We'll take care of her. After all, if she's too good for you, then she's good enough for us.'
The words of her sister were always filled with spite. Spite and jealousy. It was always the same with her. Their relationship just never was the same after they had found out that she was a Witch. It was well and truly the thing that had broken their relationship.
With the memories of the child she once held in arms in her mind, Lily began to make her way towards the Potter family tree. It was a parchment that was essentially magic!super glued to a wall outside of her and her husband's bedroom.
It was a ritual for her at this point. Wake up in the morning, immerse herself in memories of times past, and look at the family tree. There was never any real point in doing so, but it was a habit turned into a repeated action for her.
Her eyes landed on Dorea and Charles Potter, James parents, and the reason why her children were still alive to this day. They had given their lives so that her children may live. Taking the Dark Lord Voldemort to the grave with them. It was their sacrificial magic that allowed the killing curse to bounce off of William. And she would be eternally grateful to them for doing so.
Her eyes then trailed down to tree roots connected Dorea and Charles Potter to their son, James Potter. The man on the family tree was smiling. It was when it winked at her that she giggled. The antics of her husband, portrait or not, will always amuse her. She then trailed over slightly to the right, and smiled at her portrait on the family tree, but that smile fell when she gazed at the portrait in front of her.
It was crying. Confusion marred Lily Potters face as she stared at her family tree portrait. The image on the tree simply looked at her, and then pointed down.
Now why would-oh.
No.
No no no…
Horrified, Lily Potter slowly backed away from the Potter family tree. Tears gathering in her eyes, and her hands moving to cover her mouth. A horrified gasp came out from it as she fell to her knee.
'Nononono! Please, no! Not my Lilith! NOT MY LILITH!'
"Hey Lily I just wanted to ask you-what's going on?" came the voice of Remus Lupin as he swiftly got down on one knee and began to shake Lily, trying to provoke a reaction.
All that she did was shakily point her finger towards the family tree. Remus followed where she was pointing with her finger, and drew in a short, gasping breath.
The frame around Lilith Potter had darkened, losing the shiny golden color. And just like the portraits of Dorea and Charles Potter…hers did not move.
Lilith Potter was dead. And like a damn burst, Lily began to wail her sorrow out to the world.
This took a little while to do. I'm starting to get my writing mojo back. About damn time too, was getting board of Netflix anyway.
So here we are with the second installment of this…reboot? Retelling? Reimagining? Whatever. A bar was visited. Concepts were introduced. Lilith tortured people. Connors and Phelps made progress on the case. The Police Chief got her answers. And poor, poor Lily has just found out that the little girl that she loved is dead…well sort of.
To anyone who knows just what demon is attacking the library, don't tell in the reviews. I have recently been able to barrow a friends copy of SMT 4. And I am playing the shit out of it. Gotta go Chaos first, always. Law second. And then on the third playthrough do neutral. Although I have heard that getting the neutral path in SMT 4 is rather tough. Oh well, I'm having fun (even though I'm getting my ass kicked-FUCK YOU DAVID).
Still wondering when SMT 4 finale is coming out…if it hasn't already. Gonna check up on that. One more chapter to go, and we will be out of the first arc of this story. The Prolouge is almost done people. After this, it's diagon alley, and then onwards to Hogwarts.
Gonna ask a question here, when I introduce luna, what kind of Luna do you people want her to be?
Option A: the much overused Seer!Luna.
Option B: Fruit Loops!Luna. The one where she's just coocoo for coco puffs.
Option C: What I call Bloodborne!Luna. It's where she has the insight from that game. Meaning she knows the eldritch truth of the world…and that she may or may or may not have the blood of an great one flowing through her.
Which one shall it be? The choices are yours, and yours alone! Now go forth into the shrine of the silver monkey!
AND THAT'S ALL SHE WROTE!
CUE THE AIRHORNS!
BABABABWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
