Chapter 2

January 22, 1987

Andrew sat in the chamber on an uncomfortable cot bed, a toilet in the corner and painfully bright light coming from above, somewhat reflecting on the tile floor, making it difficult to see without squinting. He wasn't entirely sure where he was. He remembered being arrested by the man in the suit, who others called 'Agent Martin', though he would never tell Drew his name when he asked. There was a steel door and a large window that showed a man in uniform sitting at a desk on the far side of the room who occasionally looked up at him, and some kind of camera in the corner of the room also looking through the window. He briefly wondered how much film they used just to tape him 24/7, or if it occasionally shut off just to save material.

He had been in situations similar to this before, picked up by cops for vagrancy or minor accounts of shoplifting. He always got away of course. He had a bit of a knack for getting out of these situations, at least if he knew they had evidence against him or they found out who he was and wanted to send him back to protective custody. If neither of those were true, he'd just take the change of clothes and the food until they released him, jail was as good a place as any to sleep. The change of clothes he was given this time however was some kind of reflective yellow, probably to make him easier to spot. He'd have to ditch it when he got free.

He tried to conjure up a map of the facility in his mind. He had a surprisingly good spacial memory which served him well in places like this, being able to retrace his steps out of the labyrinth before the minotaur got him. The place was on a mountain with a singular road in and out, which was a pain but he could rough it a day or two going down the hard way once he made it through the gate of the walled compound and into the forest. But they had brought him inside, through some main entry area which branched off to other buildings through outdoors sidewalks. The center of the entire complex was outdoors with a building at the center which Drew guessed was the barracks. It was smart to keep all the people staying here the shortest possible distance from where they'd be needed, made his job harder but not impossible. Based on where the sun was when he had been brought inside this building on the far side of the complex, he assumed he was somewhere in the southeast. Where exactly the mountain was he couldn't say. And a question kept cropping up in his mind, what exactly is this place?

It was like no jail or penitentiary he'd ever seen before. As they'd walked him down the corridors, there were doors with covered windows. He saw one titled 'stag', 'feral, 'grinding', one was even unmarked and it just had 4 strange warning symbols:

An eye, crossed out.

An ear, with a hand cupped over it, crossed out.

A pair of lips, crossed out.

And finally, a brain with some strange circles emanating from it.

Drew couldn't even begin to speculate what it all meant, but he knew one thing for certain, he wouldn't be here long. He brushed his long black hair out of his face and waiting for something to happen, something always did.

Langer made his way down the main corridor of ward F, where their new captive 'fiend' was being housed. Diamond peak detainment center housed many of the western united states dangerous but most cooperative fiends and devils that couldn't be trusted to operate on a special task force but were useful for contracts or as emergency special task forces, should the need arise. But Langer felt that if they ever needed to let even a handful of these inmates out to deal with a bigger problem they were already fucked. Thankfully, such a situation had never arisen, yet anyway. He passed the doors and saw the entry way to the special containment room where the detainee was housed. He used the key given him by the sub-warden of the ward to unlock the door and stepped inside. As the door began to close behind him he subtly caught it in such a way that it didn't properly latch. He had a theory to test. The guard who was practically dozing off over a book quickly looked over at Langer and quickly stood up and came to attention.

"Sir!" He proclaimed, in a startled tone. "I had heard you were visiting today but I didn't know you would be coming to my post." He explained, quickly making excuses. Langer frowned, not at the excuse, but the quick and startled formality. He didn't like it when people saw him more as a position than a person, he simply wanted respect and diligence, not the circus on wheels that greeted him every time he met an 'inferior'.

"At ease." Langer said, almost gagging on the expression. The man relaxed, though he still seemed anxious. "Have you noticed any unusual behavior from the detainee?" He asked, straight to business.

"No, sir. He's been quiet through the last 3 rotations, moving between sleeping, using the facilities, and sitting on the cot. I was told when he came he made a rotation around the cell, just along the wall, but that's the most interesting thing he's done. Are we sure he's a fiend? He's the most well behaved fiend I've ever seen." The guard said.

Langer kept his expression impassive. This behavior was certainly unusual for a fiend, which would lend credence to the idea that he was something new. He quickly glanced at the guards name badge. "I would like to remind you officer Riley, that fiends and especially devils are incredibly deceptive creatures at times, and should never be underestimated or their abilities doubted." He said, sternly. The man nodded quickly.

"That said-" Langer continued. "This kind of good behavior might potentially indicate its more easily domesticated, and could potentially sit on a special task force. But before I make that judgement, I want to interact with it directly. Could you push your unlock button so I could enter its cell?"

"B-but sir, we don't fully know what its capable of, it could-" Now it was this kind of doubting and arguing that particularly peeved him, postulating that he, the administrator who had been top field agent for 5 years in a row couldn't handle a human sized devil or fiend in such a confined space. He'd made trips like these before to evaluate recommendations for the task forces by the facility warden, and every time the creatures revealed their plan to kill him and wear his skin out of the facility, he made it quickly apparent to them that he was not locked in there with them, they were locked in there with him.

"That was not a request, Riley." He said in his second best stern, sharp boss voice. It was more than enough for Riley who quickly shut up and nodded, moving to follow his orders, The door unlocked, and Langer opened the door and slowly entered. The boy, who couldn't have been more than 17 at most looked up at him, with blue eyes, and a thin stubble growing across his unkempt face. It was strange, the CPS file on him said he had brown eyes. It didn't matter. He knocked on the inside of the door gently to try to diffuse the tension out of the air, making it seem more like a friendly visit, despite the circumstances. He wanted to make this as easy as possible, and try to disarm him, if he refused to rise to his bait.

"Hello, Andrew, is it? My name is Jared Langer, I'm administrator of the Devil Action Corp wing of the public safety department for the west coast. I wanted to talk to you about a few things-" and right on cue, he was in motion, seizing on the fact that the door was slow to close. He shouldered his way through and Jared absolutely could have incapacitated him, but this was part of his experiment. He'd informed the facility warden ofcourse, though noone else. He allowed himself to be shoved, making a dramatic 'oof!' that would probably be convincing to the frantically scrabbling teenager. He allowed the door to shut, and when Andrew seized on the unlatched door and made it out into the hallway, Jared couldn't help but chuckle to himself, so far so good. He banged on the window and made his best angry face to get the guard to prioritize letting him out as he began to panic and radio of an escape. Langer smiled internally. Now he'd see what the kid was really capable of.

Andrew sprinted as fast as he could down the lengthy hallway, and quickly tried to remember which way was out. He was sure he was heading towards the front, he'd have to get past the building warden and other guards, and then what? Outside? He needed to make a decision and waiting for the bridge to get there was difficult when it was within sight, but he kept running, focusing on putting as much distance between him and the cell as possible. A guard came rushing at him, and he feinted to the left while dodging to the right, causing them to hit one of the doors and slip on the floor. The door began to rattle and shake as the guard frantically scrambled away from it but that wasn't his problem. He saw a wet floor sign and an unattended mop bucket. As several guards moved ahead to intercept him, Andrew kicked the bucket as hard as he could without losing his footing with his best soccer kick he could manage from those ancient days of local games. The mop bucket spinned wildly forward, spilling its contents all over the floor and the bucket hitting one guard in the shin and that combined with the water sent them sprawling forward onto the floor.

The 2 other guards including the warden moved to intercept him but they were clearly unbalanced on the wet floor, and Andrew saw his opening by the guard who had fallen, and through luck more than skill, his sneakers, the soles of which had been worn down to flat surfaces through wear and tear, slid across the floor and he leaped over the fallen guard. He landed hard on his knees, and slid several feet, the knees of his reflective pants beginning to burn with friction. The guards couldn't change direction quick enough and Andrew was up in moment and out the door. This was just in time for the siren of an escape to sound. Drew knew he had only moments before he was swarmed and he saw, about 100 meters away, a place where one of the back buildings left a small opening between it and the wall, and he could probably scramble up- he was already in motion.

He sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him and found himself not tiring as quickly as he thought he would. In his periphery he saw uniformed people running after him, some drawing what looked suspiciously like guns. Then the loud crack like fireworks, with a slight 'ting' which followed, and Andrew realized that for the first time in his life, he was being shot at. He didn't lose his nerve, he kept going, making it into the tiny alley, jumping and using the wall to boost him a little against the building. And then he braced his back against the wall, and started trying to clamber up the 15 foot wall, and was making a pace that surprised even himself. When he made it to the top, the shouting from below was deafening and he threw all his strength into his arms and back so he could push himself onto the roof and prepare to use the reflective shirt to protect him as much as it could from the barbed wire as he tried to leap over it. It would be a steep drop, but he saw a pine he could probably use to break his fall. He hoped anyway. He cast a quick glance down at the guards and calculated how much of a start he'd need to make the 4 foot gap and then throw himself over the barbed wire. He backed up, took off the shirt, and prepared to run, taking 2 short breaths to steel himself, and then-

Andrews muscles locked up. Everything felt numb, like pins and needles but with an excruciating burning sensation all over his body. He tried to breathe, sucking air into his agonized lungs but he felt no relief. The more he breathed, the more panic set in as he realized it wasn't helping. This coupled with a sharp stabbing in his chest where his heart was, and he lost his balance and proceeded to fall into the gap before him, promptly hitting his head on the concrete wall, and blacking out as he fell.

Jared Langer sat next to Andrew in the infirmary, the boy slowly coming to, his arm a broken in several places along with several other fractured bones. He winced, and when he was about to scream, Jared lifted his eyepatch again, activating his contract eye. The scream died in his throat as he immediately looked at Langer and gripped his throat. Langer lowered his eyepatch and he quickly took in a breath and coughed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you man, who are you?" he gasped.

"I told you before, Mr. Johjima." he responded. He grabbed a small glass filled with a dark red liquid and offered it to Andrew. "Drink it, for your pain."

Andrew winced and hesitantly took it from him. "What is it?" he asked.

"Does it matter? Its painkiller." was his quick, stern reply.

Andrew slowly raised it to his face and sniffed it. It smelled foul, he looked at Langer, who simply wore a frown, and then he quickly downed the thick, dark liquid. It tasted vile, like pennies and seemed to cling to his tongue even after it was sliding down his throat. He gagged, and then he felt a warmness spread over his body and his muscles contracted. He involuntarily slammed his head back against the pillow of his cot as he seized and his broken arm stretched out and with a sickening snap and squelch, it reset itself, and all the aches and stabbing pains across his body receded.

"Holy fucking shit." he murmured. "Tell me, what was in that?" He asked, a fearful look in his eyes, as if he almost didn't want to know now. He flexed his arm, and it was clearly good as new.

"Cow blood." Langer said, a small smile creasing his lips. "Which confirms a theory of mine. It would seem you're a devil, my boy." The words came out almost smug.

Andrew looked incredulous as he flexed his hand muscles looking at them closely. "That can't be right... I'm human, I'd know if I wasn't." He thought back to that dark memory with Arthur, the last time he'd seen him, and had a foreboding feeling this might be related.

"Well, the situation is quite unique, and we don't have all the details, but there's no other way a bit of steak juice would make you right as rain after dead falling 15 feet." Langer pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and after receiving a glare from a nurse he took a breath, half frowning and shrugged, putting them back in his pocket. "I have a few questions for you, Akio, Andrew, if you don't mind."

"Andrew." He retorted sharply.

"Andrew." Langer repeated.

"But before you start with your questions, I have one." Andrew said, mustering all the sternness he could muster.

Langer leaned back in his chair. "Ask away, if I'm not legally prohibited from responding, you'll get an answer."

Gears turned behind Andrews eyes as he thought how to formulate his question. "How did you do the thing? When you make my body go numb and I can't breathe?"

Langer smirked and tapped his left temple, his eyepatch still lowered. "Contract. I have an agreement with the blood devil. I gave it my left eye, and it gave me the ability to stop the motion of blood in anything I look at with it. It burns through my own blood to use it, so I use it sparingly, but you've seen first hand it doesn't take much."

Andrew blinked. He supposed he'd met devil hunters before in passing. He'd even considered doing some third party work as a hunter. But he never went through with it, and every time he was glad he didn't since everyone else had died or been injured as the company contracting had been under informed on how dangerous the devil in question actually was. But this guy, Langer, he was the real deal. The person who got called in to deal with the monsters that the third party people ran away from in fear, and considering he could completely incapacitate Andrew with a glance, it wasn't hard to see why. Best training, best contracts, to kill the worst devils.

"So why are you here for me?" Andrew asked hesitantly, eyeing him carefully.

"I wanted to catch you before your official interrogation. Devils and fiends aren't covered by the statute of limitations or protected by the constitution, you see, and I had few questions myself if you aren't too busy." He smiled slyly, as if he'd just told a joke. Andrew didn't think it was very funny. Especially as he caught on that the people here were going to torture him to find out what happened at the forest.

"So if I talk to you, they won't hurt me?" Andrew asked, a hint of fear and desperation, grasping for anything to anchor him.

"Maybe, if I like the answers you give me." Langer stated flatly. He didn't like putting the fire under him, or feeling like he was stringing him along. He had enough to show him he'd make a fine special task force addition, but he needed to check a few important details before he handed him over and he kills someone. "So, to start. I want you to tell me what happened before you were arrested. That forest didn't burn itself down, and you have devil powers, at least the healing ability." Langer stated. He saw the pictures of the pillar of flame, but he wanted to hear Andrew's side of the story.

Andrew blinked. He'd expected this, but he hadn't come up with a satisfactory story yet. He was missing a lot of pieces in his memory. "I… uh…" he started, unsure.

Langer raised a hand, trying to be reassuring. "Don't worry, remember what I said about the constitution? It goes the other way too. None of this will be used against you in court, you wont be put in a foster home. But I need to hear the whole story, or I can't help you."

Andrew sighed and leaned back in the cot, moving up to rest his back against the wall. "My house burned down a few years ago. I had… befriended a devil, he was like a ball of fire, really small. I named him Arthur and he liked that. He was my closest friend, and the only one I could rely on. I ran away from the transition home after they found out about Arthur and tried to call hunters. I traveled for a long time, all across the west coast, though I avoided the deserts and mountains because hitchhiking is harder when you're my age. Everyone wonders where your parents are or tries to human traffic you when they find out you're unaccompanied." He had misplaced those first events chronologically, and he hoped his meandering continuation might draw attention away from it. Langer had caught it, and knew he misplaced it, the moment he heard 'ball of fire'.

"I guess this time I went further east without realizing it. I had just started walking somewhere south of Portland and didn't stop." Andrew said quietly.

"And the forest?" Langer reminded him.

"Well, it had gotten really cold on the road, and the average ditch, or lean to wasn't going to cut it, plus I was getting low on food, so we went off the road to look for a summer cabin. We..." He paused and looked down at the blanked, gripping it in his hands, "Didn't find one." He took in a shaky breath. It was still very raw in his memory. "We got lost. I built a fire with him like we had before, trying to use the trees to insulate heat for warmth. But I just couldn't get warmer, and I fell asleep." He decided not to share the vivid dream, Langer crossed his leg and frowned slightly, listening intently. "I woke up 10 days ago, was arrested. I think you know the rest. Bounced around cars and holding cells before getting here."

"What about the powers?" Langer pressed.

"Powers? I don't know anything about any powers aside from the blood thing." Andrew said with genuine confusion.

"Don't you wonder how the forest burned down?" Langer saw the stupefaction on Andrews face and remembered back to the pictures. He suddenly wished he'd brought them. "Sometime between when you passed out and January 12, you transformed into a massive pillar of flame, and destroyed thousands of acres of forest, the damage estimate is still being tallied. Fire response teams were only able to stop you because of some real geniuses drawing fire breaks and lucky weather. You don't remember anything? How to access those powers?"

Andrew was struggling to process what he'd been told. Had Arthur fused with him? Was even Arthur capable of that? "No, I don't remember anything after I fell asleep, and I don't know how to access these... powers." He felt like he was in a dream. Any moment he could wake up on the forest floor-, but the moment didn't come.

Langer scratched his cleanshaven chin and then ran a hand over his hair. If he doesn't have control over his powers that's both an assurance and a liability, because he could help oversee he training process, but what if he caught fire again without warning? Would it be so easy to stop him next time? Could he accept the risk he could hurt people? The sighting reports from the pacific flashed in his mind. He could.

Langer took a short breath and managed a convincing small smile. "Well, Andrew, I'm about to make you an offer you can't refuse-" He said in his best fake Italian accent, bringing his hand to a point in what he felt was a funny Italian gesture, though the fluoride stare on Andrews face suggested he was not familiar with the Godfather. Kids and their not watching cinematic masterpieces. Coughing slightly, Langer continued. "I have room for well behaved and skilled devils and fiends on my special task force teams, who can follow orders and use their powers for the common good, defending people from more malicious devils and fiends. If you would be willing to join, learn how to be a devil hunter, learn how to unlock and use your powers, then I can pull you out of here today. Give you a home, a real bed, real food. But the catch is, you'll have to be able to kill for us. We can't capture them all." For Langer this was a no-brainer, he would have taken it in a heartbeat. However, he was a trained killer who was never properly there in the head. Maybe the kid had principles. And if that was so, he'd be back after the warden had him 'interrogated'.

Andrew looked down. He had only killed small game before. Squirrels and Rabbits. A Goose once, but never a devil, never something like a person. But this was his only way out. His next escape attempt probably wouldn't go so well, and he remembered the implication of torture. He briefly considered what his parents would think, but didn't dwell on that thought- he couldn't.

"Yeah. Yeah, ok. I'll join your thing, and I'll hunt for you." His gaze was strong, the gravity of what he said felt heavy. But Langer only smiled.