Two; The creature inside
A demon, twelve foot high and filled with boils, that instead of puss, where filled with magma, boiling, flaming lava, hotter than any other life form on the planet, began lifting and crushing fleeing people; One in each of its three tentacle like embodiments that I will refer to as arms. I was completely content with watching at first, laughing as overweight men tripped and landed within its fiery grasp, watching as they where slowly compressed, alive still as the bones ripped through the layers of skin, cracking and snapping before eventually crumbling. To this day I have no idea how it kept those people alive after all of that, I have tried many times to do the same, but my victims just pass out before they feel any real pain.
I was in a place known as Paris, hoping that because of this slaughter Quint would turn up, which he didn't. So I watched gleefully as these people where killed, three by three, until; A beautiful young woman, slender and tall fell into its target zone. I felt my stomach swell with desire as she screamed, tears raining down her cheeks, and made a petty attempt at running away. My eyes widened with horror and before I realised what I was doing I was charging straight at it. Before I got there, she fell, head hitting the floor and blood oozing from the wound, driving the creature on.
She regained some form of consciousness before she was crushed, again, I do not know how but whatever, and continued to scream as it ever so slowly began to squeeze. Some of her ribs cracked and she screeched a cry of sheer pain, before hitting the ground, alive. Before the demon had managed to kill her, I arrived. Launching myself through the air and landing a kick on its 'forearm' region, tearing through and grabbing the woman from the floor.
I lay her down on the blood-washed pavement near a building, feeling the cold of her skin against my hands, that pain in my stomach almost unbearable. When suddenly I felt myself being lifted away, off of the ground and up into the air.
The demon swung at me as I fell, like a base ball, with one of its two remaining 'arms', connecting perfectly and sending me spiralling off and into a building, smashing through the wall and landing in a heap underneath all of the rubble.
It took a great effort to push of all of the debris that lay over me, then to stager to my feat it took even more. But I got up in time to see it coil around the girl once again. Just like me, it seemed fascinated by her. But I was ready this time, and faster, before it managed to lay a 'hand' on her, I was there, and grabbing its middle tentacle, I wrenched the limb apart, acid and blood pouting over me… Smart move. The battle raged on for a little longer, five years without exercise really takes its toll on you!
But never the less in my burned, torn clothes, the black leather of my jacket, burnt a pale white by the acidic blood; I sat victoriously on top of its corpse, panting with my head down. My own blood dripped casually from my mouth and onto the floor. By now, the woman was awake, and groaning, the police sirens had sounded and soon enough there where people all around, mumbling, grunting, the someone clapped. Then another. And another, until the entire crowd had begin to clap and cheer, all the while the woman from the floor was loaded into a medical van.
The demon beneath me began to shudder and shake, and as I stood, my coat falling to the ground, it burst into flame, tearing away at the final traces of the creature, leaving no remains. I learned later that the ANGELS have a way of dealing with this sort of situation, which involves a mass memory insert, but I had no idea that it mattered at the time, and so just walked away, my hands in my pockets, grinning wildly at the excitement of the fight.
The power from that demon was perfect, and from that moment on, I knew that in order to truly have fun, I would have to find more, and forget about killing humans… for now.
I shrugged the rest of the tattered rags off my back and began to walk, the crowd parting to let me through, photographers flashing away at me, covered in blood.
For a long time I hunted demons, finding killing, gaining numerous praises and thanks from people, and over time the stiffness of five years with no routine wore off and I was back to my peak, ready for anything. And over this time, I learned how to act sanely in human cities that I would pass through, experimenting with hundreds of different women, promising them fame and glory in the next life.
Demon after demon fell to my power, and still I wore the same rags that I had that first day, not seeing any reason to change, unless of course my pants where to get destroyed. And so I travelled, bare backed, across the land, searching for any decent fight, and abandoning my search for Quint. As destiny would have it however, once I stopped looking, I found them all too often.
My first encounter was in Austria, high in the mountains near a small mining town. At midnight every year, on the 31st of October, a man, caped in black would arise from the ground and feast upon the virgin blood of any girl who had reached the age of sixteen. Upon hearing this I headed straight for it, any opportunity for all of the new women in a town to thank me…
I got there in two weeks, a whole month before the 31st, and with nothing better to do, I sat, and waited, and waited, and waited and waited. Each day the townsfolk staring, asking questions; "Who is that strange man?" "How can he sit in the snow without a shirt?" "Why is he here?" Etc.
Until at long last the night finally arrived. That day dragged as long as the entire month behind it. The fright could be seen throughout the village, people hauling their belongings into cars, leaving for the night. Then there were the other less fortunate people who had no such means of transportation and had to comply by heavily locking their homes in the hope that they would remain unnoticed. Eventually the sun set behind the golden horizon and my heart began to race faster than any human heart is capable of. I waited for hours, deep into the night, perched on the church tower, over looking the village square. The wind blew strong that night, that was the only sound, the animals of the forest must have sensed that something was wrong, because non of them moved from there perches. Then there, below, fainter than any mortal hearing could ever detect, I heard the swift and fleet footsteps of a murderer,
Immediately afterwards, the footsteps where accompanied by a chorus of blood curdling screams. Licking my lips at the thought of blood and dropped from my perch atop the tower and landed gracefully and without pause at the scene of the screaming. The orphanage housed three beautiful young girls who had just become of age. Over the previous month I had seen them walk by, fetching pales of water and food from the market, and upon each passing my stomach tightened, I had thought about leaving my perch to entertain one of them, but my notion of, the more virgin blood the better, over ruled my primal thoughts.
One girl, the one with jet black hair, known as Idrith, lay clasped in a mans arms, his mouth upon her neck, draining her of her blood. The other children and the two other girls, where frozen in shock, screaming and screaming, but to no avail. According to the rumours, many brave fathers had stood up to this man, only to have been slaughtered in front of his family in vain no doubt. I enjoyed the thought of fighting such a man, and without hesitation, planted a forceful kick to him, sending his startled body through the wall. I stepped outside to meet him, but he was gone, the only trace of him being the hole in the wall. I stepped out into the clearing, neat the fountain, waiting. Every towns person who dared was peeking at me through their windows and spy holes, praying to whatever deity that they followed that they survived.
The wind changed, and a whip cracked, following it a surge of pain in my lower back, a hot thick fluid running over my skin. Gasps arose from the townsfolk nearby. The wound burned tremendously, but I had taken more pain throughout the past few months and ignored this easily. Still I listened. The wind changed, and for a second time, the whip cracked, searing flesh from bone across my side, blood smacking the pavement all around. Behind me Idrith had come around, groggily speaking to the others. This had gone on for a time now, and boredom had begun to set in. "If your not planning on showing yourself, then I shall end you now…" I called, hoping my provocation would lead the coward to reveal himself. My wounds burned hot, like they had been freshly cut even though they had already begun to heal.
Over the past few months, my upper body had become a mass of scars, I have almost completely mastered the art of instant regeneration but like to keep scars as a reminder of each conflict. So I listened, carefully for his reply, "How will you do that hmmm? You do not even know when I will strike…" He mused, mockingly.
The wind changed, a whip cracked, but did not connect. I sidestepped the moment the wind changed, wrapped my forearm around the whip and heaved with all my strength, feeling the weight of my hidden opponent lose balance and fall flat at my feet. He was a scrawny man, dressed in black with a top hat and a long moustache. He leapt to his feet, cursing, staring me straight in the eye. "You can not kill me mortal, I am a descendant of Daverac, Demon King of Necromancy and the dead…" With one blow I sent him gliding across the square and into the fountain; which cracked under the force of the flight. Water frayed into the air, giving off a fine mist, liquefying the blood over me and allowing it to drain off.
The demi-demi demon spawn began to whimper, clawing for the ground, confused and in pain. I raised my boot, ready to crush his head, but before I had the chance, a gun sounded and the strange man exploded, showering me in blood and other messy entrails. The time had come for me to acquire new apparel. Now I was the confused one, wondering why the latest victim of my bloodlust had just combusted and now lay fermented and all over me!
I looked up, very annoyed at the loss of satisfaction from killing this imbecile to find myself looking into the eyes of a flawless woman, skin pale and eyes vibrant, looking as though she had been captured in perfection at the age of twenty for eternity. In her hand she clasped a chrome desert eagle, still smoking from the barrel. She was in every aspect and angel, one that turned out to actually be and ANGEL…
Three; Dynamic Reposition
Niraneye was an ANGEL, one of the best. She had been around for almost as long as I had, and was hired by the same GOD as Quint, my grandfather, Eural god of peace and mercy. She had seen the battle and thought it best to interfere and then to continue and try and kill me, being a demon hunter and all. She may have succeed as well, because while she was fighting, I was trying to get my point across, after several blows to the head and gut a managed to get the word Quint out, which stopped her in her tracks…
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