Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry, just my OC's.

Warning: there is going to be mental to physical discussion between Joss and Dee, if someone complains I change it up.

Recap: I groan aloud and bite into the sandwich. "You know how they talked about hunters right?"

He turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, what of it?"

"Who do you think they are?"

He smirks at me. "Oh, you'll see them soon enough." He then disappears.

"Thanks." I say, then bang my head on the table. "My life sucks."

"Josslyn, get up." Grandma orders acidly.

Dee growls in my head and I groan sleepily as I turn my head over to look at the light coming from the door. My stomach protested in pain, it's a terribly painful idea to sleep on your stomach when it was closing up an open wound, but I didn't care, I made it work to my comfort. Slowly I reached for my glasses and put them on.

Grandma looked down(ish) at me, glaring the entire time. "Can't you let me sleep." It wasn't a question.

She narrows her eyes. "You need to go to church, useless bastard." She grumbles at the end.

I growl and throw myself out of bed, stumbling slightly as the slightly painful feeling in my stomach, I then marched over to grandma and glared at her. "Okay, two things wrong with that statement. One) I know who my father is you old bitch, and Two), You have no right to talk at all. I've been cleaning this house day and night since I was eight, while you always sat on your ass and let some cleaning woman or your own son clean the damn place. I've held down a job until you forced me out of it, you've never even had a job or bothered with lifting your finger to make money, you just spend your social security checks and grandpa's pension money. I've taken college level classes in highschool for the last three years, you got knocked up in highschool by a football player and dropped out." You'd be surprised at what records you find when taking care of the family paperwork, she lost the baby, the football player didn't marry her. "I'm going to graduate in five months, and I'm going to go to college." Hopefully. "So, do you wanna restate that question?" I ask snarkilly. She looks at me shocked and wide eyed. "Thought so." I remark with a evil smirk, then turn around and go to the bed.

I was near my bed when she said. "Pastor Pelt is expecting you." I stop mid step and whirl around to glare at her. "I saw his wife at the beauty salon, she told me to say that both he and herself are wanting to meet you."

I groan aloud, I did not like Pastor Aron Pelt, nor his wife Debbie, I wonder if anyone pointed out that Debbie Pelt got blown away in the Sookie Stackhouse books? They were both rich socialites that seemed to need to include every good thing they've done in a conversation. Aron smiled at everything no matter how horrendous or the subject that he was talking about, botox does wonders. He had the kind of attitude that either corralled people together, or sickened them with paranoia and dislike, I was in the latter column. Me and Kerry both have the same agreement when it came to Aron, Hitler was a good speaker too. Plus, then there was this whole vendetta against 'them gays' as he put it, I have to say, people hate most in other people what they see in themselves. He's preached and preached, and most likely practiced, about beating, burning, and punishing 'homosexual deviants'. Plus, I always got this creepy vibe from him, like he was always leering at me, or some other kid, his wife gave me the same feeling.

Now, Debbie pelt gave me every vibe of paranoia, distrust, and general uneasiness that her husband gave me, except multiplied by 2 and a half. She looked like the typical June Clever housewife, but also like one of the desperate housewives as well. Face continuously plastered with a smile, hair that gleamed and never moved, and she seemed to split her face in half whenever she meet a unforeseen complication that didn't go with her plans. I am plenty sure that she's a fake bitch, I've heard a few of her conversations while at the supermarket, when she graces it with her presence, usually her butler, a butler for Christ sakes, is the one who shops. Anyway, she is like that one woman from the help, ugh, her names escapes me, but the evil bitch of the book. Oh, Hilly Holbrook, that's it. Man, I wish someone would send Debbie and Aron pelt a shit baked pie.

The Pelts came to town about 12 years ago, back when only the southern Baptist church was still around. Somehow, a mysterious fire burnt down that church, along with the preacher and his wife who were 'decorating for christmas'. When all the grieving was done, they built up a mega church, I mean extremely large church building, like the televised ones. And then it was purely uphill from then on, followers came and never left, money poured in, and the Pelts soon had a devout mass of followers. They seemed to enjoy it so much, they threw parties, socialite parties that is. When the firebomb incident happened those years ago, they grew three fold instead of folding in on themselves.

"I told her that you would meet them." Grandma continued. "Today at noon over lunch."

My eye twitched heavily at her, and Dee was growling softly. 'I say we put her in the trunk of the barracuda and drive her off a cliff.' No way in hell am I wasting that car, it's a classic. I had put it in the garage behind the house, grandma didn't go up there at all. Tomorrow, or today if I'm unlucky enough to go to church, I'll talk to Mickey. He knew a few tricks on how to steal cars and then give them a paint job and new registry. Heard him talk about it to Sal when they were shooting the breeze over a bottle of beer, something about going to the next state and registering it as your own, then replacing the VIN numbers and painting over it. Or I could just simply forge a proof of sales document, then the pink slip. That may take less hassle.

"I expect you to not disappoint them, or me." Grandma adds. A stern look on her face told me not to screw her over, well a big ol fuck you bitch.

"Tell them that I'm sick." I tell her sternly.

"No, you will go." She then takes a step towards me and glares. "Or it's out on the street for you."

I growl along with Dee and take a step to her. "You wouldn't dare." I challenge.

"Oh no." she cocks an eyebrow. "Help is cheap these days, a few Mexicans down behind the home depot would certainly love to have a stable paying job."

"Racist bitch." I tell her, then sigh and hang my head. "Fine, but I'm not going from here on in, you got it?"

She fold her arms and glares. "Do not make idle threats with me young man, remember, I hold your purse strings."

I smirk evilly at her. "Oh, keep flattering yourself you old hag."

-Church of Slevid-

I looked up at the ceiling of the church and sighed out a long breath of thanks for the end of the damned sermon. Four freaking hours about the usual, sinning, sinning, praying for forgiveness, and gays are damned eternally to hell. Church never really changed, or I didn't pay attention enough and just projected my own views that were based on a stereotype. I'm sure there are plenty of churches that are better then this one, no wait, I know there are. At least this one wasn't like the one that goes to Iraq veterans funerals and protest and demonstrate the war, that earned some merit in my book. Especially when that church came to town to one of the funerals, everyone and their mother came to beat the crap out of them, including local cops, though that was disguised as arrests. But I think that Pelt felt threatened by the rival church and sent out the call, most likely this reason.

"Get up you lazy little shit." Grandma hissed at me, whacking my leg with her purse.

I looked at her, then sighed and got up, then 'accidentally' dropped the hardcover song book on grandma's foot. She turned blue in the face as she wanted to curse me out as I started walking up the isle towards Aron Pelt and his wife Debbie as they stand at the front and accept praise from members of the church. I seriously worry about the people in this town, they seem to worship these two more than they worship god, which is scary I guess.

Debbie sees me first and tugs on her husbands arm, they both turn to me and smile widely. "Josslyn." Debbie says in an extreme southern accent, it was too much for this part of the south, sounded more like she hailed from Alabama. "We have been wanting to meet you for so long." I shivered, these two give off the creepy ass vibe, in droves.

"So young man." Aron says, putting a hand on my shoulder. He looks down into my eyes and smiles widely and fake like. "How would you like to have some lunch with us. Of course your grandmother is included to join." He adds in a little bit loudly.

I didn't pay attention to that last bit, I was more focused on the buzzing sensation that was in my shoulder where his hand was placed. It was subtle in feeling, but I felt it, and I didn't like it at all. Dee didn't either, he was growling lowly. 'Be careful, there is something….' Off? 'Yes, off. And I do not like it.' You and me both buddy.

"Actually Pastor Pelt-"

"Call me Aron." He interrupts.

"Aron, but I have a project for english due, and a few assignments for my chemistry class that are due at the end of today online. I'm terribly sorry that this came up but."

Debbie's face seem to tighten up slightly, I knew she didn't like this. "Oh, it is perfectly okay sweetheart." She coos. "After all, education is the key to a great society, isn't that right honey?"

Aron nods his head deeply, he locked eyes with Debbi as he nodded, I saw some form of irritation flash behind their eyes. "Indeed sugar pie." My god, could these people be anymore stereotypical on the hick accent and nick names? He turns to me and smiles. "Well, we'll hold it to you to have lunch sometime then. How about tomorrow?"

Crap, think of something. "We have family dinner and lunch after your sermons on Sunday sir." 'Don't suck up to him!' You want him off our back? 'FINE!'

Aron narrowed his eyes for a second, then came back with a bright smile. "Well then, how bought next weekend, deer season starts, and I'm told you're an avid hunter."

Oh crap, that's right, deer season is next week. "Ugh, I'm not much-"

"What'cha hunt with?" Debbie asks sweetly.

"My grandfather's Kentucky Rifle ma'am." I respond automatically. The rifle was a black powder family heirloom, passed down from my grandpa's side of the family for generations. It was decorative, but it was also well used, scratched up, dented slightly, years of wear and tear, but it still held together. As long as I can keep grandma's hands off of it, it was stored in her closet, said it wasn't safe anywhere else. Pssh, she doesn't even know how to load it for cryin out loud. I need to clean it up before next weekend.

"Hmm, impressive. Didn't peg you for a black powder sort of guy." Aron says. "Where ya hunt at?"

"The deer camp out near Crawford." I don't hunt there, everyone else does. I hunt in a spot of land that grandpa's old army friend owns, he still lets me use it as long as I pay him in tenderloin from every deer I kill, helps me cut it up too, messy business.

Aron scratches his head. "I didn't see ya there last year."

I shrug my shoulders. "Didn't get much of a chance last year, loaded down with school work and all." Bullshit, I managed to kill four deer, two buck and the same number of doe. Kind of a nice bag for me to, one was a nine point the other a six point.

They both nod their heads and smile. "Well then, next weekend, you and the two of us go hunting, how's that sound?" Aron says.

Wonder how hard it is to get mercury poising in that amount of time. "Fine." I say with a broad smile that I allow to reach my eyes, practice makes perfect. Aron chuckles and slaps me on the back, and Debbie smiles and waves as I turn around and head for the door. 'That was too easy.' Dee says. "Agreed." I whisper, then grandma steps out from in between the pews.

"Where are you going?" she hisses. "Wha-"

"Rescheduled." I tell her with an oblivious smile. "We're going hunting next weekend instead." I walk past her and towards the doors. "So, are we going?"

She grabs ahold of my arm and glares at me. "What did I tell you? You useless little-"

I step closer to her and pull my arm out of her grip. "How about I call the insurance company and tell them about how you've cheated them out of 120,000 dollars?" I ask her. Lexus's aren't cheap. Wait

She stares at me wide eyed and the color in her face drains. "Yo…you wouldn't."

I lean in close to her and smirk. "Grandma, don't throw stones at people who can throw back boulders." I then head off towards the bathroom. "I'll see you at the car grandma, gotta go to the bathroom."

If there is one thing that I would like about this gaudy church, it's the bathrooms. Neat, clean, and stylish, now if only they'd get rid of the giant painting of the bible on the bathroom walls, or Jesus staring at you on the doors on the stalls, then that would be great. They even have their own monogrammed towels with the name of the church stitched on them, actual cloth towels, not the paper ones. There soft to, and the entire bathroom actually smells decent, well, beyond decent compared to other bathrooms.

"What exactly is a Slevid?" Dee asks from inside the mirror image.

I shrug my shoulders and continue to dry my hands. he was referring to the monogram on the towel. "Some saint or something I guess, don't look at me, I don't know religion."

"Hmm, hold it up to the mirror." He says.

I give him a 'really' look, then sigh and do what he asks. "Happy?"

He narrows his eyes at me and growls. "Don't start with me today missy prissy."

"Excuse me?" I snarl.

He smirks at me. "Well, glad to see your actually reacting to unpleasant things, care to explain why you didn't tell off them."

I shake my head and sigh. "Because they can bury you if you fuck with their plans. Plus, something just isn't…right with them, you know?"

He nods his head. "My sentiments exactly. Both of them are not what they appear to be."

I snort at that. "You got that right. But they aren't demons, my sensory ability is shit but that much I do know. So question is, what are they?"

Dee shrugs his own shoulders. "No idea, something may come to mind, but at the moment, nada."

Rolling my eyes, I turn off the water and put the towel back on the hook. "Well then, what do you suppose we do?"

"I suppose we get back home, and start training." He says firmly. "You still haven't worked out what all your devil arms are capable of-"

"And you have?" I ask him mockingly.

"Shut up." He tells me swiftly. "As I was saying, your devil arms have different abilities. Like Zeus, something you didn't know is that it allows you to suppress yourself from more than just senses of living beings, it can cloak your appearance for a short amount of time."

"Is that how you got the jump on Hallow?" I ask.

He smiles triumphantly at that. "Exactly. I was basically invisible to her, and when her back was turned, well, you know what became of her."

"Alright then." I say aloud. "Look, we've got to get going, so lets have this discussion in the midnight world."

"Midnight world?" he asks amusedly.

"Yeah, the sub dimension that we got from Hallow, Samh and Velox." He thinks about it, and then shakes his head yes, and disappears. I walk out of the bathroom and find Grandma waiting by the door, talking to someone I didn't know. I came up to them and they turned to me.

"Josslyn" Grandma says, I suppress a cringe. "This is Pastor Pelt's butler, Claude."

I extend my hand automatically without thinking. He smirks and takes my hand, and I instantly felt a bed wave of shock go through my arm. 'Demon.' Dee says as I think it. I took a good look at 'Claude'. He wore a cream three piece uniform and had matching hair, but with black gloves on, his eyes where coal black.

"Pleasure to meet you young Josslyn." Claude says, then takes back his hand and does a slight bow. "My name is Claude, and I am the Pelts butler and loyal servant."

Is this some sort of cliché or something? Or have I read too much of the black butler manga? "Pleasure is mine Claude, but please, call me Joss."

He cocks his head to the side and makes an 'oh' face. "My apologies, I'll take note of that for further occasions then."

Yeah, when you're about to kill me or me you, take a pick. "Thank you then. Grandma, are you ready to go?"

She glares at me, but I mouth IRS to her, and she straightens up. "Yes, I am, thank you for the conversation Claude. I'll be expecting the Pelts invitation then." she then turns and heads out the door.

I follow her in confusion, fighting to turn around and look at the butler. Invitation? To what? 'Do you care? Maybe we'll finally be rid of the old bat if she goes, may be some sort of sacrifice or torture technique to get information out of her.' Dee suggests in glee. Look, I may be a little bit of a hypocrite since I've wished for something painful on her for years, but I don't want that to happen. And besides, if the Pelts aren't what they seem and are interested in us, crap they are aren't they, anyway, then they'd want the rest of the family. Personally, I wouldn't wish that on Mickey's kids, or Erin on a good day at least, especially Katie. Maybe Cheryl. They may go after my family, hell, maybe even Kerry! 'Humans, so sentimental.' Well how about a polite fu-

"Josslyn, hold these." Grandma interrupts my inner monologue with Dee. I look at her to see she's holding out the churches weekly pamphlet, the churches name on it written in a large cursive script. I don't bother arguing, the further away from this place and the better, plus I could interrogate grandma on the invitation.

I took them and went to the other side of the car and got in as soon as she opened the doors. We quickly went on our way and she speed out of the parking lot, the pamphlets in my hand on my lap, looking up at the ceiling of the car as we went by.

"Grandma, whats the deal with the invitation?" I ask her as soon as we clear church land and get onto the streets.

Grandma loves to flaunt things, and with the Pelts being the 'who's who's' of the town, well I'm surprised she hasn't flaunted it. "Oh, that?" she asks coyly. "Well it was nothing really. The Pelts butler came to me to say that he would be dropping off an invitation to a party that the Pelts party that is being held on Wednesday. It's supposed to be a costume party and-"

I stopped listening after that, I was too busy caught in thoughts. How the hell exactly can some costume party be used to lure grandma to her supposed doom, or interrogation? 'Just as clueless here.' I sigh and look forward, my eye catching the image inside the mirror of the turned sun visor. I leaned forward more and looked harder at the image. My hand was in the mirror, the hand holding the pamphlet, my fingers covering the front two letters of the churches names, the I and the E. What was left was Sl_V_D, grrrr, what the hell can it mean.

I looked into the image more, and then I saw Dee's face leaned forward in the seat and looking at me at an angle. "Turn the word around, and swap I and E." I looked around and quickly spotted a pen inside the door's little pocket. I pulled it out and did what Dee said. D_V_LS, alright, now to swap the I and the E. DEVILS. Church of Devils.

My mouth became a thin line as I stared at the title. How the hell did he know that?

"I saw it when you reflected the monogram in the bathroom mirror." Dee tells me. I am really surprised that Grandma can't hear you. "She's off in her own little world. Besides, humans can't see me unless I allow them too, same goes for hearing." He says smugly. He then turns to grandma and raises up his arms to his mouth. "HEY YOU OLD BITCH!" he screams. It hurts my ears but grandma keeps on driving, a slight smile on her face. "See?"

Impressive, now, what the hell do we do? Dee shrugs. "I don't know, plan it out before hand, make more explosives, train." You think they know that I know about them? "50/50, they may know, or they may not know. But one things for sure, the butler sure knows." What? When the hell did this happen? "Sensing goes both way bucko, besides, that little electrical shock you always get when a demon touches you, that tells them that you're a demon as well." Oh shit, then that means that Dante and Vergil are-

"Don't worry about them, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Well, your sleeve technically." What in gods name are you talking about? Dee sighs and looks at me glum like. "Something of a little experiment at first, I've been letting out traces of demonic energy whenever you bump into someone, when it reaches them it leaves behind a slight level of demonic energy in them. So you're not the only one who's giving those two shocks when they touch someone." Wow, impressive. He nods and smirks. "Yes indeed. But unfortunately, they'll think that you've been in contact with a demon more than the other students, so they may come by and stake you out." Not literally I hope. "Haha, very funny."

But there is probably one more thing. "What is that?" The Pelts probably know forehand that I'm a demon, and what's stopping the butler from telling them that I know he's a demon? "Ah, now therein lies a simple answer. He won't." How do you know? "Because demons hate the humans their contracted with, well, most of the time at least." Wait, so contracted demons exist? Like black butler?

He does the 'I guess so' shrug. "Look, I'm coming off a limited knowledge here. All I know is that usually when a human makes a contract with a demon, the human ends up losing its humanity or its soul. But there are some demons that can be captured by a human with some traces of magic and the know how to use it, and thus forced to make a contract with them to the humans benefit." So basically, they do all the work without very little rewards. "Exactly. And for that reason, I am assuming that Claude won't tell the Pelts jack." How did you know that he was forcibly contracted? "Something that I could tell by that little shock, it's a inner demon thing." I roll my eyes and look out the window, noticing that we we're close to home.

"Oh, I have an appointment with Yvette today." Grandma says cheerfully, is she smiling? 'She's a demon, kill her.' God I wish that was true. "So I'll drop you off at the house."

I shrug and cover up the pamphlet with my hand. "Alright, do I need to go shopping for groceries?"

She thinks for a minute then shakes her head. "I made a list for you, its on the counter taped to my debit card." She then turns to me and glares. "And don't you dare buy more then what's on the list." She threatens.

I blinked at her then sighed in relief. "Wow, almost thought you were a doppelganger there, you were acting nice to me."

She huffs and then glares at the road. "Little shit." I hear her curse.

"Love you too grandma." I tell her exaggeratedly.

-back at the house-

Grandma speed away as I went up to the house, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, Dee didn't feel anything weird as well, so I went in. I found the list attached to the refrigerator and pulled it down to look at it. Nothing too much of a hassle, hey, there's a car shop next to the grocery store, I'll ask how much it is to paint the Barracuda, then work on the proof of sale.

I had taken a sample of Liam's handwriting from a few scraps of paper in the car, and printed off a proof of sale form, now all I needed to do was fill out the form while writing as Liam. After a few mock tries on a separate piece of paper, I slowly took my time to fill it out, honestly it was so simple. Two signatures, a make, model and VIN number and then just average information. Now the information on Liam's drivers license would be difficult to find, what with his clothes and body being gone. But I found his wallet in the glove box, how lucky and am I?

Smiling at how simple it all seemed, I went to my room and grabbed my keys, I felt like I was forgetting something.

"Oh yeah!" I exclaim aloud and race to grandma's room. I went to her closet right off and dove into the back of it and found the black hard plastic gun case. Smiling, I pick up the case and take it to my room and laid it on the bed. I wanted to pull it out and start cleaning it, but the quicker I got this shopping and appraisal for the paint done, the better. Sighing, I headed off towards the barracuda and hopped in.

I found out by digging around on grandma's computer that this was a 1970 Plymouth Barracuda, 383. It was a V8 stick shift, the seats where a black vinyl, so is the dash and the steering wheel. I had pulled off the shamrock in the back window, no use for it now, and it would have given me away that it was Liam's. That was pretty much all I remember about it, other than that I could get almost 50 grand if I chose to sell it, key word there is if. I had put down that I bought it off of Liam for $1,400, some may say that it's a crock of shit, but I could just say he needed cash and quick. Again, may not hold up since he's a drug dealer, but who cares, the scum's gone and I get his car.

I started it up after shaking the stick shift to unlock it. It roared to life and began to purr, I slid into the bucket seat with a contended smile a mile long as I stepped on the clutch and feathered it with the gas pedal I as threw it in reverse. I hit the close garage door button on the little receiver clipped to the sun visor and off I went. I knew how to drive a stick, learned on grandpa's '95 Rio Grande Jeep. Its been a few years, but driving stick is a little like riding a bike, you get rusty but you don't truly forget.

I drove down the highway as leisurely as the speed limit would allow me to, and got to the grocery store in about twenty minutes, it took me thirty to buy everything I needed, and soon I found myself in the parking lot of 'Custom low' auto-body shop. This was the only place within in thirty minutes of me that I knew of that did paint jobs or aftermarket customizations, mainly because Mickey talks about it.

I pulled up to the front parking slot and turned off the car and went inside after pulling the emergency brake. Going in I find the lobby area empty, I walk up to the counter and hit the bell. Within minutes a mechanic shows up and smiles wide like.

"How can I help ya son?" he ask.

"Hey, I was wondering how much it would cost for a matte grey paint job and how long it would take." I tell him after shaking his hand.

He leans to the side and looks at the barracuda in shock. "I….is that your car?"

I nod my head and hold up my proof of sale, I brought it in with me in case of I needed to prove anything. "It says so right here on this piece of paper."

He grabs it and looks at it funnily, then looks up at me in fear. "Bu…but that car was Liam's baby, how could he sell it for such a penance?"

I smile at him and lean forward. "Oh, he had to come up with some quick cash fast, and he was willing for a price."

He loses the color in his face and gives me back the paper. "Look man, I don't want any trouble."

I furrowed my brows. "Okay, I'm missing something here aren't I?"

He shakes his head quickly. "Look, I won't say anything, just don't hurt me."

I hold up my hands. "Geez man ease up, I'm telling you the truth, what the hell's got you spooked?"

He looks at me disbelievingly. "You don't know?" I nod my head impatiently. He sighs and relaxes. "Well, yesterday around noon, the cops kicked in the Fitzpatrick's bar, you know, the one on Donahue and Morgan." I nod my head yes. They used that bar for business sometimes. "Well, anyway, when the cops busted it down, they found the place ransacked and blood everywhere. But no bodies, it's like someone just drained all the blood out of every single member of the Fitzpatrick's and splashed them all over the walls." Wow, hallow and Samh did a good job.

I shake my head and do the don't shoot the messagner bit. "Look man, all I know is that Liam shows up on my door step, he probably thought my cousin Tony was home."

"Let me guess, customer of his?" he asks.

"Yeah." I say darkly while rolling my eyes. "Anyway, he say's he needs to find some quick cash and a crap car. Well, my cars a piece of shit so I tell him that I'd trade him cars and pay him 1,400 for his. At first he's like, no fucking way man. Then he gets this call and says deal. Then, poof, he's gone with my old car and some of my money and I get this sweet ride." I don't know how I'm pulling this out of my ass, I mean, I'm a terrible liar.

The guy nods his head. "And I take it you wanna change the color, just in case someone's after Liam, but looking for his ride."

I nod and do the 'hell yeah' face of scared agreement. "Well, know yeah. I just wanted it gone because green really isn't my color."

The guy smirks and chuckles. "Alright then, the paint is going to 900 bucks, and that's without a gloss cover right?" I nod again. "So, that'll be 900, and it should be done by tomorrow afternoon, we'll call you when it's ready." I hand over my keys to him.

"Do you want the payment know or later, or half and half?"

"Later, we guarantee a good paint job or it's free." He says automatically.

I smile. "Good policy, hey, can I call a cab, I've got some groceries in the back seat and I need to get home."

"Sure thing kid."

-back at the house-

I paid the cabby and hurried into the house with my arms loaded with bags of groceries. Opening the door, I quickly went to work putting everything up in the right order of things and closed the door, not in that order but you get what I mean.

"Well, you do know how to balance menial tasks." Dee says from across the room. I look over to him and see that he's leaning up against the table. His hair was white as usual, his amber eyes dully glowing, his clothes where the same as mine, long sleeve gray shirt with darker blue jeans.

I shrug and put the milk in the fridge. "'Humans, so sentimental' is how you put it I believe." Closing the door, I bend over and pick up the plastic bags and ball them up into a single ball. "It actually feels nice to do something as trivial as this. Don't know why, I guess that it's just doing something that was normal in my old life that still feels nostalgic."

Dee rolls his eyes and snorts. "Normalcy is in the eye of the beholder, I guess."

I shake my head and open a small drawer next to the fridge and put the plastic bags on top of the continuing pile inside it. "Well, why don't you try to do something so 'menial', the cereal needs to be put up."

"Why would I do something so….so-" he couldn't complete the sentence.

"Human?" I suggest. He glowers at me as I smirk. "Just try it, it's not so bad, to feel human I mean." He growls, but I see him start to walk over to the counter behind me.

He grabs a box of special K and then raises it quickly and slams open the cabinet door, then he suddenly stops and the box hovers above the shelf. "This…feels odd." I snicker and punch him in the back, I feel it on my back as well. He glares at me then places the cereal box down and reaches for another box. "Don't you have something better to do?"

Oh crap, that's right. "Thanks for reminding me, be right back." I tell him, then quickly run off to my room. I find the gun case right where I left it, smiling, I go to my dresser and pull out the top drawer and immediately find my old leather bag that I use to store everything that goes with the rifle. The powder, flint, ammunition balls, including the cleaning supplies and punches, pulling out the bag I close the drawer and pick up the gun case by its handle and head out to the living room.

I wasn't really planning on cleaning it on the floor, I was just going to inspect it first and then disassemble it if it looks to bad, and then go to the back porch and clean the barrel and the action. Placing the case on the floor, I lay the bag next to it and place the case on its side and unlock the latches and flip it open.

I smile as I see the rifle and all its antiqued glory. The butt of the gun was carved out in a U to fit the shooters shoulder, a brass plate covered the end of the stock, it was tarnished but it still shone. Around the action it was covered with a dark stain from all the gun powder burning, but you could still catch the intricate designs of birds flying through a rising sun in it. The forearm of the gun was segmented with brass casings that was both decoration and to hold in the ramrod. Black metal bands wrapped around the barrel and the wooden stock and held it in place. It was a piece of history and beauty, a deadly accurate beauty. All of the wood is a deep cherry colored hickory oak. Grandpa said that guns where feminine and bladed weapons where masculine, well, depending on the wielder, but we both agree that this rifle felt like a 'she'.

I picked her up carefully and ran my hands over the worn wood and designs, sighing as the all too familiar wood rubbed smoothly in my hands. "Man I miss you grandpa." I say aloud as I feel all the memories of the pleasant times we spent outdoors trekking through the woods, firing at preset targets or game. I shouldered her and looked down the barrel and imagined myself as I was when I was seven, grandpa behind me, whispering into my ear to take in a breath and letting half out, to count to three slowly with every step as you tracked your target.

"You should have told me you had such a weapon." Dee says, startling me. I jump up and quickly turn around, the rifle in my arm, my hands grasping it tight but it was pointed down. Dee jumps back and steps to the side. "Be careful with that thing!" he snaps. "I may be your inner demon, but I'm still a demon."

I look at him stupidly and allow the gun to go lax in my arms slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that that weapon is stained with the blood of demons." He says slowly, eyeballing the rifle the entire time. "I can feel the aura of that gun, it's willing to be used to hunt, to hunt demons."

I snort. "That's crazy. Dee, what have you been smoking?"

He glares at me. "Don't you see you idiot, this explains so much. Why you survived being turned into a half demon over the others. Also, why I have so much knowledge about fighting demons. You yourself said that it is strange that I am so young yet know so much. This explains why!"

"What are saying Dee?" I ask him impatiently.

"I mean, that your family, your bloodline, you're a descendent of demon hunters!" he concludes dramtically. "This explains everything. Hunters are more in touch with their primordial feelings and instincts so they can overcome demons as they hunt. The bridge between human and demon is so close as a hunter, that when Jester created his little experiment, it must have destroyed the barrier between the two. And since you're a hunter's descendent, you know the secrets of demon hunting, history, information, well you don't know it, but your blood does."

I look at him stupidly, then roll my eyes. "Yeah right Dee. Look, sorry to rain on your parade, but I'm no hunter. And this," I shake the rifle. "Is not some tool to kill demons. Its just a rifle, plain and simple."

A chill went down my spine, the hair on the back of my neck went up and I got a cold feeling in my stomach. Dee smirks evil like and then snaps his fingers. The world around me melts away and soon the familiar gothic world of the midnight world appears. "Oh, well see." He then snaps his fingers again, and parts of the air surrounding a few trees crack, and then forms burst forth through the cracks.

"SHIT!" I yell, and reach up to Zeus for Samh.

Dee appears out of nowhere and grabs ahold of Zeus and yanks it off my neck. "Not so fast. You're going to see that what I'm saying is true."

I growl at him and snatch at his hand. "You dumbass! Quite fooling around or else I'm going to die!"

He snorts and leaps away, he lands in a tree and looks down at me. "No you're not. What you're going to do is point that gun at those demons and pull the trigger."

I curse and look around for my leather bag, "FUCK!" I shout aloud when I realize that it didn't get transferred to the midnight world. "Where's the goddamn bullets and powder?"

He rolls his eyes and face palms. "Just point the fucking gun and pull the trigger."

A demon jumps at me and swipes with a clawed hand. I jump away and lash out with a foot, it collides with its head and goes backwards and lands on its back. The demons surrounding me looked like apes with black smoke floating off of them. Around 30 or so. "It's not even loaded you sick bastard!" I yell at him.

"JUST DO IT!" he yells at me angrily.

"FINE!" I yell at him, then raise up the rifle and aim it at the nearest demon. I look at it down the barrel. "Mother fucker." I curse, then pull the trigger.