Disclaimer: You know the drill, folks.
Woohoo! Another chapter in such little time! So, without further ado, the next chapter! Oh, wait-
A/N: No, flashbacks are not in italics this time. There was just too much that would have to be italicized. Since the whole chapter is basically a flashback.
"You're kidding!"
"Naw, and that's when he said he wanted a lawyer- like there wasn't enough evidence already there to put him away for good. I mean, I don't work for forensics, and I could see what was goin' on, no problem."
"Yeah, is it just me or do criminals these days seem to be getting dumber?"
"Or there's a bigger gap between the dumb ones and the smart ones..."
Three men sat in a bar. Or, more specifically, at a secluded table near the window, in a bar, conveniently shielded from peering eyes by a large and rather flowery pot plant.
The youngest of the three men had light brown hair and laughing brown eyes. The other two were decidedly older, one of them with grey at his temples, the other with pale blue eyes. All three had at least one gun concealed somewhere on their person, and it was a safe bet that a search would have yielded several knives from at least the two older men, and quite possibly the younger one as well. Not that anyone at the bar would ever dream of even looking for a concealed weapon; the three were regulars at the bar, and therefore branded worthy of trust.
"Can I get y'all anything else?" a buxom waitress smiled a them as she sashayed up to their table.
"Naw, we're all right sweetie," the man with blue eyes smiled back.
"Being an officer has its advantages," the man with grey hair muttered as the waitress sauntered off. "At least for you younger ones."
"You mean being an officer, and off duty," the man with laughing eyes corrected. The trio chuckled.
"Anyway." The man with the laughing eyes stood., grabbing his leather jacket from the back of the plain wooden chair.
"Going home already?" the blue-eyed man said.
"Yeah. Marisol gets worried if I get home too late."
"Well, see you tomorra." The two older men stood up for a brief handshake before the younger departed, leaving a couple dollars on the table behind him.
—
The young man whistled softly as he made his way back to his home. If he noticed the unusual silence that seemed to permeate the street, he ignored it. As he reached his home, a modest white house with roses climbing up a net his wife had placed for that purpose, he stopped with a puzzled expression on his face. None of the lights were on. Strange, he thought. Surely it couldn't be that late. He quickly checked his watch- 9:57. No, not that late at all. So why...?
He opened the front gate, thankful for having remembered to oil the hinges a couple days ago, and unlocked the front door to the house.
"Mari?" He called to the dark interior. No answer. Is she asleep? He discarded the possibility almost as soon as he thought of it. His wife was a night owl; she hated going to sleep before midnight. He flicked the light switch, to no avail. So that explained why the all the lights were off: the power must be out. But why wasn't Mari answering?
"Mari? You there?" he called again to the silent house. He advance warily, then froze as something crunched under his boot. Slowly, he bent down to see what it was. Ceramic, judging from the texture. A quick- though blind- search of the end table next to him provided an answer; Mari's favorite vase. She'd never leave her favorite vase lying in pieces. Something was decidedly wrong here.
Slowly he pulled his handgun from the holster at his side and advanced towards the living room, where light trickled in through the curtains from the street lamp outside. He entered suddenly, ready to shoot- nothing. The living room was completely empty, and silent. The whole house, in fact, was silent as the grave. An uncomfortable metaphor at that moment, he realized, tightening his hold on the handgun.
His worry growing, he quickly opened the door to the kitchen. Again, nothing. And he could feel icy fear starting to claw at his heart. Oh, God, please let her be safe please let her be all right please, a small voice in the back of his mind pleaded. Firmly pushing it away, he called again.
"Mari! Where are you? Mari, please answer me!" The only answer was an eery silence. Abandoning all caution, he ran back through the living room and entry hall into the dining room- and opened the door to a sight that would stay branded in his memory for the rest of his life.
What was once a dark oak dining table was now only so much splinter and broken fragments of wood. The overhead light looked like it had been ripped from the ceiling; it lay along with fallen chunks of plaster, presumably also from the ceiling, and deep gashes ran diagonally along the walls. The windows had been completely smashed in, allowing a faint breeze to trickle in along with the dim light from outside.
And Mari, his beloved wife Marisol, lay among shards of glass and fragments of porcelain and wood, her face a frozen mask of terror. Blood stained her clothes and face, pooling on the floor beneath her, and both her legs were bent at unnatural angles, obviously broken.. He did not need to look into her sightless eyes to know that she was already dead.
There's blood on the walls, he thought irrationally at first. Then, Oh God. Mari. Oh God Mari, please Mari don't be dead please, I love you Mari don't be dead. Mari! Oh God please God why, not Mari please, oh Mari, please!
It was then that he noticed the... thing... that was hunched over her. Quivering black wings joined to something that looked vaguely human in the half-light, except that no human had wings. Or talons that tore large rents in the carpet, instead of hands. Eyes that shone in the dark like a crocodile's turned to gaze at him, and he raised his gun with trembling hands.
"Get away..." his voice was no more than a whisper. He tried again. "Get away from her..."
The thing emitted a sound eerily like a chuckle. Then, suddenly, it launched itself directly at him with an inhuman shriek, talons extended and mouth opened wide to reveal a formidable set of snake-like fangs. With a yell, he threw himself backwards onto the polished wooden floor of the hallway. Acting purely on instinct, he fired his gun at the creature; he thought he heard it scream as the tips of its wings brushed his outstretched hand.
Heart racing, he somehow managed to turn his dive into a roll, jumping to his feet as quickly as he could. The creature had shot past him and into the living room, leaving a trail of wreckage and general destruction in its wake; it had even taken out part of the door frame, somehow. He dimly noticed his hand was bleeding- apparently the glossy black wings weren't as innocuous as they first appeared. The creature was once again unmoving, crouched amidst what he recognized as the remains of what was once an armchair. It's destroying everything. It attacked me. God, it killed Mari! Something inside him snapped.
"You bastard!" he howled. "I'll fucking kill you!" Raising his gun, he fired several rounds at the creature. The bullets pierced flesh, sending a fine spray of blood across the walls. The thing let loose another shriek, though this time it sounded more angry than anything else. It threw itself at him again, wings beating powerfully. He threw himself down and to the side, wincing as his shoulder collided with the wall. It would get him eventually if he stayed in the confines of the hallway, he realized. I have to move.
As rapidly as he could, he hurtled towards the living room, half tripping over broken pieces of wood and plaster. This time, the creature didn't wait before attacking again. He turned around just in time to see it drawing closer at a startling speed. Desperately, he threw himself to one side again, firing all the while. He felt the thing's claws raked his shoulder, ripping the leather coat like so much rice paper. He yelled, lashing out instinctively with one arm. The thing retreated maybe a foot, allowing him to regain him balance. He raised his gun to fire again- only to hear a rapid clicking sound. Cold fear inched its way up his spine as he realized what this meant; his the magazine was empty. And without bullets, he concluded with a strange detachment, he would most likely die in short order.
His eyes widened as blurred shapes- no, creatures identical to the first, stepped out of the shadows. More than one?! Three pairs of glowing eyes stared balefully at him now, and three fanged mouths bore cruel mockeries of smiles.
The sudden sound of splintering glass caused the creatures' predatory gazes to leave him, opting instead to focus on the new arrival- a man in a black coat, with unruly raven hair and blue eyes, who was currently occupying himself with smashing in the window. Placing one gloved hand on the windowsill, he vaulted over, pistol in hand.
"Hey," he greeted, and fired thrice with unerring aim. Two of the bullets found their mark, but the third creature managed to dodge sideways with incredible speed. It swiped at the stranger with one talon, but he nimbly stepped out of range and fired again. The other two tried to come from either side, but the stranger rolled out of the way, and the two creatures collided in a burst of black feathers.
It was like a dance, each party attempting to outsmart the other, one attacking then the other. Like a dance on the edge of a knife, where one fatal slip could end it all. The young man watched with bemused eyes.
Suddenly, one of the creatures seemed to dissolve into... dust? No, sand that seemed to glitter in the half-light.
"Who's next?" The stranger taunted. As though they could understand, the two remaining monsters uttered twin cries of rage. As one, they launched themselves at the stranger, but he jumped and, using the head of the nearer one as a booster, flipped over the two monsters, landing on all fours. So quickly the movement was almost a blur, he reloaded the magazine of his handgun and fired four more rounds at the creature that had the misfortune to be closest. It was blown away, and a fine layer of sand coated the floor.
One creature left now. It appeared to realize this too, because it paused as if uncertain, before spreading its wings and propelling itself towards the stranger at full throttle. The stranger jumped back, but the monster spun around, and the stranger grunted as one knife-like wing raked his chest. He barely paused, however, before attempting to shoot the creature again. It dodged sideways in one fluid movement.
Surprisingly, the stranger let the gun drop from his hands- and even as it fell reached into the depths of his coat and drew out another, this one a sub-machine gun. Keeping up a steady hail of bullets, he reached again into his voluminous coat. And drew out an odd-looking sphere filled with a blueish liquid.
"Dodge this." He grunted. And he threw the sphere with surprising force at the creature- which did exactly what it had been prompted to, and attempted to dodge sideways again. Unfortunately for it, not quickly enough. A large amount of the blueish liquid spattered across its legs and midriff.
The creature let loose a blood-curdling howl and staggered back, clutching its torso. In two strides the stranger closed the gap between them and placed his gun to the creature's head.
"You're dead," he smirked. And he fired.
With a final shriek, the creature dissolved into a pile of sand that trickled onto the floor. And then there was silence. The man with brown hair let himself slide to the floor, handgun slipping from nerveless grasp.
"You all right?" A hand touched his shoulder and instantly drew back. "Looks like a pretty nasty cut you got there. Here..."
A pleasantly cool sensation spread from his shoulder. Suddenly seeming to find his voice again, the young man gasped: "Th-they- they k-killed her." Tears started to roll down his cheeks as the reality of everything that had happened crashed in on him like a wave. "She's dead, Mari's d-dead, they killed h-her a-a-and I couldn't d-do anything, I couldn't save her, she's dead..." His knees buckled as a wave of grief seized him and he howled. "Damn them! They murdered her!"
An arm hauled him to his feet and held him steady. He wanted to sink back to the floor. He wanted to hold Mari in his arms again. He wanted to kill the bastards that had ruined his life. He wanted... he wanted revenge. He shook the other man off.
"Who are you? What were those things?" His voice threatened to waver; he clenched his jaw. The stranger fixed a steady gaze on him.
"Those things that attacked you were demons." He continued before the other could speak. "I know you may not believe it now, but for what it's worth, it is true. Now-" The stranger's gaze became, if possible, even more serious. "There are three things you can do. From what I understand, they killed someone you loved- if you want, you can just give up and die. Which you will; once they've come at you once, those bastards don't know when to call it quits. You can also try to rebuild your life and pretend nothing ever happened- some people do. But they'll attack you again anyway. You were lucky this time; you survived. You can't count on the same luck the second time." The stranger paused. "Or... you can seek revenge. Go out and get 'em for what they've done. I- we- can help you there."
The man was silent for a moment before speaking. "We?"
For the first time the stranger grinned. "Me and the other Hunters. We kill demons. Still-" His voice took on a cautionary note. "I have to warn you, you'll probably die before the first or second year anyway."
The man shook his head, and smiled; a feral grin. "No, I won't." He chuckled as though at some joke only he knew. "I'll kill them all before I die. All of them!"
The stranger clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"That's the spirit," he said solemnly. Abruptly, he removed his hand from the other's shoulder and offered it. "My name's Zach. I kill demons."
The other man took the proffered hand.
"My name's Sher," he replied somewhat hoarsely.
—
The man with the laughing eyes was brought back to the present rather abruptly by a sudden and unexpected jab to the ribs.
"Ow!" He hissed at the grinning young woman sitting next to him. "What the hell was that for, Aline?"
"Just wondering what you were thinking," Aline explained with an air of obviously faked innocence. "Good thing you let me drive, though- you'd have gone off the road, staring off into nothing like that."
"Well..." Sher fell silent, unable to think of an excuse.
"Besides." Her tone softened. "'The past is gone, now is all there is', right? No use mourning what you can't change."
Sher shot a considering look at her.
"... And then you pretend you don't realize what other people are up to. You're smarter than most people realize."
Aline coughed uncomfortably, cheeks reddening slightly at the praise.
"Well, I recognize that look, you know." She grinned again suddenly. "It's the same one my grandfather gets every time he starts reminiscing about 'his day'." She craned her neck around to look briefly at the man in the back seat. "You all right back there, Nelo?"
Nelo raised his icy blue eyes from the book he was reading.
"Quite." He answered politely. "Thank you for the book, by the way. Most fascinating."
"Don't mention it." Apparently satisfied with the answer, Aline turned her attention back to the road. Sher regarded her a moment more before turning his head to look back out the window.
"The past is gone." He murmured to himself, so low nobody else would hear.
So, that's the latest chapter! Like it? Hate it?
I stuck in a quote here an' a reference there, sneaky ol' me. The line "like so much rice paper" is a deliberate tip of the hat to Eoin Colfer's Artemis Fowl series, which I don't own, by the way, so don't sue me.
The quote "The past is gone, now is all there is" is from SSX tricky.
And... a hunter with unruly black hair and blue eyes, whose name sounds suspiciously like 'Zack'? Could he possibly be a cameo character? And wherever from? XD
By the way, guess which book Nelo's reading. Go on, it isn't that difficult. (nudges toward the review button.)