Year I - Act I - Laws of corruption - Chapter VIII.
Blood, gore and general brutality in this chapter. Not the most explicit ever, but just a warning.
The two groups had been at an impasse for what felt like forever. Granted some of the Sinners had to, let's say, 'recover' from what they had been about to do. A couple had decided to tie up the imp after she tried to get up, broken as she was at the moment. The two bats? They had moved away from the main group. This meant two less clearly hostile Sinners against the humans. A pitiful amount.
It still came close to three against one if no one else backed away.
Not that any of them were going to pull out either. From the youngest to the oldest, all of them had seen what was about to happen. Perhaps many of those in Hell would have ignored it, but these people, while far from saints in most cases, found it disgusting.
And not a single one of them believed people like these Sinners deserved a third chance, considering where they were. The bats? They had a pass. The humans were *allowed* to give them a pass, more so if they had a talk after.
But the doubts about dragging everyone else to their benefactor had evaporated very quickly.
Even then, this was far better than these pieces of shit deserved. Cruelty wasn't in most of the mortals' common traits, but what almost went down was enough to make their blood boil and their anger surge.
Worse; one of the Sinners had the balls to walk towards the group, alone, and with pants still undone. Granted the bastard was huge; he looked like some kind of dragon or something? Perhaps a serpent. It wasn't like anyone looking could clearly tell. All they saw was a massive figure, broad shoulders, a lot of muscles and a demented smile while having a body that no real living being should ever have the chance to sport, and his dark vices clear for all to see.
That is pretty much Hell for you. And the humans knew anything like that would not fly if they had anything to say about it.
It was clear the other Sinners thought this a very stupid thing to do, but obviously none of them gave enough of a crap to risk their own balls. In a sense it was a safe way to test the crowd in front of them, in fact it should've been enough with most people
And they were right to keep away. This was clearly going to be a bloodbath. Because this family wasn't composed of 'most people'.
"What do we have here? What are living humans doing in Hell?"
The serpent/dragon Sinner's voice rumbled like a mountain rubbing stones together into dust. It was a clear sign of the man's strength, but his speech also spoke volumes of his lack elsewhere.
Suffice to say that Manuel, the one ahead of the family at this point, was not impressed.
"Cleaning out the trash." Manuel growled. The old man could be intimidating at will, but he hardly tried this time. He wasn't stupid. This fool wouldn't back down. All he needed was to press the right buttons. "You heard my grandson. Either leave, or you will end up as mincemeat"
He was also far more direct, without doubt and fear, than Carlos. Not surprising, and very much welcome by the deal bound young man.
In time Carlos knew he would need to act like his grandfather. This was a chance to learn.
Sinners were another matter altogether. The hybrid like Sinner in fact thought this a joke at best, an insult at worst, as he laughed.
"HAH! And how will you do that?" The dragon like Sinner came closer. It was clear on his maw what he wanted to do, the droll gave it away. "You think I won't snap you in two like a toothpick, little man?"
There are many tales of how demons wish to feast on the souls of mortals. This is only halfway right.
Demons can gain power from souls, yes, but ultimately the core of a soul must return to Heaven and gain the chance of being born anew. Part of the soul grows with time though, and that part is what can birth new souls or, if used 'correctly', empower other beings. No soul is lost forever, unless true dark magic, be it from Hell, as you'd expect, or from Heaven's summary punishments, now rarely (if ever) used.
But no. When one thinks of demons truly going for mortals, flesh, blood and soul, you are thinking of Sinners. You will find demons wishing to dine on human flesh, yes, those in the Cannibal Colony were a perfect example, as Rosie had openly shared with the family of humans. But many of them could rein in their worst desires, remain civilized as it were.
Now imagine how bad it could be with Sinners with no control. Those that could turn feral like the worst monster in a horror story.
Those with a taste for life, for humanity, were once alive themselves, at least in a way humans could understand as 'alive'. Demons and angels would not be considered in the same category for various reasons, despite being, in our terms, alive too. This is thanks to the human soul, its effects and what it does to a body growing up with one.
For the once living, this is also a drug.
Not all of what makes a former human goes back to Heaven for rebirth.
And those that were once alive, when given that feeling once more, easily become addicts.
They are the reason tales of demons preying on humans like true monsters were born. None of the humans knew this of course, at least not those present. But they needed no knowledge to be aware of these Sinners being little more than creatures of dark folklore, or at least too far gone to be considered anything but the creatures that would lurk in the dark and hunt the young and the weak with malicious glee..
A warning was a warning however, and the humans still waited for an answer. Manuel had a very easy way to speed things up, though.
"Do you know the saying?" Manuel took his weapon in both hands, the hybrid quickly producing what looked like a long, thin blade from somewhere. "'Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young'. I am sure you are smart enough to understand what I mean."
"That means nothing to us, dipshit." The Sinner chuckled, handling his blade like a toy. By now it was clear this man was either high, far too confident, or stupid. "Many of us can be older than you." He even had the balls to poke Manuel with one of his claws, clearly intending more than just pushing a few buttons. "Faster, stronger and better in every way, that is what we are. And you? You are an eyesore."
It probably came as a surprise when Manuel grabbed the Sinner's finger. The resounding crunch was enough to unnerve most people present, human or not.
This was the last warning given.
"For the last time." Manuel growled, loud enough in his words for the distant Sinners to hear him. "Leave now and nothing will happen. Or stay and be dealt with. We don't take kindly to rapists."
Manuel had been made to learn how to take and deal pain by those wishing to impose their rule through force. Breaking someone's finger, hand, or even the whole arm, even if they were stronger and larger, only required the victim being as conceited as this Sinner here. A little quick and precisely used pressure was all that needed for bones to crack. Simple enough.
The Sinner was still more than strong enough to take his hand back from Manuel though. "You fucking prick." He hissed, his time playing with his weapon now gone. "That is rich coming from someone working for a fucking CANNIBAL whore of all things!" And credit when credit is due, the Sinner threw a magnificent executed slash that would've cut anyone's neck if it landed, perhaps the whole head thanks to the fallen human's strength.
Anyone less skilled than the old man, that is.
Age is a funny thing. It weakens you in many ways, but the mind, if properly trained and maintained, while slower, sharpens greatly. For someone with experience in spades it sometimes made it look as if they knew what was going to happen much sooner than even those that were doing the deed had decided to go ahead and do it.
Manuel had seen a mile away that this man was not as incompetent as he made it look like. A simple thug twirling a blade around. He wasn't special, no, but he DID know how to handle a blade. That was far more than many behind Manuel had going for them.
But they had gotten help. Hopefully that would be enough.
In fact that 'help' was the reason why his body was nimble enough to duck as quickly as he did. The dodge making that blade swing inches away from him, but far away enough, delivering the worst kind of surprise and lack of resistance to the attacker, was enough to expose the otherwise experienced ganger.
It all was slow motion after that. Everyone knew that, had it been another Sinner, or perhaps a full fledged demon, the draconic Sinner would've been far more on guard. Had it been someone younger or angrier, the ganger would have followed his first attack with a quick kick for humilliation's sake instead of wanting to see the blood spurt and the old man quiver where he stood. It was all a mix of preconceptions, anger and the over abundance of pride on the fallen human's part.
And then it was gone.
Springing from the squatting position Manuel had used to dodge was fast, instinctual. His old legs had been given temporary new power, as if he was young again. And he had done this a few times, a long, long time ago. There was no pride or desire in doing this like the old times, but these people, unlike those he had to fight in the old days, deserved it.
The sound of the Sinner's throat being perforated was not dissimilar from those of a normal human being. And, much as any normal person, the reaction was immediate.
A step back, two. A face of surprise. Dark blood gushing from the wound and white cracks showing through the skin.
No, not cracks. The effect of a holy weapon burning through the Sinner's body. It was not the quality of an Exterminator's equipment, but it was enough, and the now ex draconian fiend had what was left of his afterlife burned in an instant.
"I may serve a cannibal now. It may make me a hypocrite." And while his family members were shocked in most cases, they kept their resolve as best as they could. Words had failed, so they now had a job to do. "But compared to you? We are doing this place a favor."
A singular, insect-like Sinner stepped forward from his group.
"Yer done it now, ya pieces of shit." The blessed tipped arrow in his hand, coated in dark blood, was snapped in half. It hadn't done enough damage for the blessings to do their thing, only pissed him off. "Kill whoever ya can, drag those that survive here! We'll have fun one way or anotha!"
Well, it wasn't like no one expected this. Still…
Those were a lot of fallen souls charging their way now.
Manuel aimed his gun, Carlos walked to his side and a formation, hasty as it was, quickly established as the family got ready.
Words, after all, were cheap. But one had to live up to their promises.
And, just in case, Rosie had sent someone to watch over them. It was important to make it clear that they were in this to the end.
It was hard to remain composed. This was NOWHERE near what Evelinde had thought she'd find in such a strange magical construction.
Humans! A family of them!
Oh, her grandfather would've loved to see this. So few mortals ever made it to Hell as he once did. Demonologists were so rare that even the few you'd find were still glossed over. Nothing like in the old stories for nearly two thousand years.
Yet here, a family! Thirty odd souls! The young demoness was positively giddy, even if some of the humans weren't exactly welcoming. Despite the many duties she had carried under her lady, never had she visited the mortal world. The only humans she had seen were those in photos, primarily that of her grandfather. This day had turned out very interesting indeed!
"Evelinde, dear, please, rein yourself in." Rosie chastised her young aide, making the demoness shudder before regaining her composure. "Have some decency now. You will be working with these people a lot. You need mutual respect here, not have them seeing you as some overgrown child."
Evelinde did her best not to chuckle at the idea. A clearly difficult task, considering her personality outside of work.
A demon of Rosie's species, like many of the Overlord's followers. There were clear hints at her not so 'pure' nature, like small white dots within those black pools that were her eyes. Her hair too; long and silky, but platinum in color, as if blonde, but with the unnatural glint of hell making it appear metallic more so than anything. A much more defining trait was her white skin, like that of a porcelain doll, or the ever present black nails that looked as if she had claws that could not retract fully, unlike most demons' more flexible nature when it came to their fingers.
Evelinde was a second generation Cambion, mostly demon with a portion of human blood. There were mixed characteristics, yes, but it would be very hard to consider Evelinde anything near human, even if she was more human looking than most demons. The sharp fangs lining her mouth, the overly long and thin neck, and many other resemblances to Rosie's kin was enough to mark the young demoness as what it was.
Her nature as a Cambion was more acute when it came to her sexual development. After all, Cambions were, in part, meant to seduce humans, and this was one of the greatest reasons behind them mostly being identified with the Succubi and Incubi. It was no lie to say Evelinde was quite 'well formed', be it on the front and back. Then again, while not excessive, most of Rosie's species were similar, which did hint at their heritage not being too far removed from humanity at some point.
Either way Evelinde did blend in well. Perhaps not so much by blood thanks to some of her features and looks, but by mannerisms, so long as she behaved, it was a nearly perfect fit.
That was a complicated affair. Evelinde was a bit of a child at heart, at least by Hell's standards. It would be hard to see with human eyes, Evelinde was a very passionate woman, and her 'childisnes' was akin to the 'curiosity' and cruelty of a cat. She was perhaps around the age of most of the young (adult) generation of humans around her and she was very impressionable, but also incredibly dutiful. Her mother had instilled the need to be a proper lady and Evelinde fought night and day to fulfill that duty.
This made her a mix of childish, excitable and with a thirst for book and the stories within, which clashed with a desire to impress, to do what was expected and the ruthlessness that one of her kind all but desired to display. Evelinde did love to work with her hands in all she felt passionate about after all, be it crafts, writing and art, or peeling someone's skull free of flesh.
While they were still alive.
Old fashion covered that for Rosie, it covered a lot of dark things with most of those living in the Colony. It did the same with Evelinde.
Only… not quite.
Evelinde could be considered friendly, open and caring, at least for a hellborn. But she was as ruthless as they came. She didn't truly want to hide it, only revel in the feeling. Victorian dresses of many shades of red did not compliment her as much as many other styles and colors would, but that was the point. Any kind of blood could be hidden with the right shade of crimson, human or otherwise.
Evelinde cared not to be subtle. From head to toe, from hat to glove, even the masks she usually wore, all were meant to conceal the bloodstains only her skin could reveal. In fact her gloved hand carried one of the many ball masks she hid herself under, her pretty face for the humans to see, much like those pearly fangs and the clear eagerness in her eyes.
Yes, Evelinde was an abnormality, something common with those of direct human blood. Her mother was the same. It was why she was useful to Rosie, and why the Overlord had been relieved when she didn't die at a particular event, a meeting meant to be a perfect night, but one that Rosie expected to go awry, no more than a month ago. Evelinde wouldn't lie to herself and call herself irreplaceable; Rosie could find someone better suited than her in a heartbeat, but her many talents were a mix not that easily replicable, so Rosie valued her perhaps more than she should.
That didn't mean she wouldn't get threatened when needed, as she was during tea time. Nor would it save her if Rosie ever became truly displeased. But the young demoness had tact when needed and, more importantly, wasn't as stupid as to think she could overstep her boundaries, unlike other people she could mention.
She was just… over eager.
"Sorry, my lady." The aide finally relented, her face becoming more neutral, if still sporting their kin's characteristic grin. "It's just… I thought this would be much different. There is even an angel that is not interested in killing us. It is just like one of my books!"
Rosie did her best to hide her chuckles with a hand. She was doing her best to keep this formal after the short rollercoaster that had been the deal and everything else. The Overlord was unwilling to let Pride, of all things, guide her mind, at least not again and this soon.
Besides, Carlos was next to the pair while those family members willing to get their hands dirty rummaged through the cart with blessed weapons. They had all exited the house, with those unwilling to partake waiting inside. Some hushed whispers had followed them out the house as Nathaniel guarded the door, but Evelinde had ignored them quickly enough as one armored man, Enomoto, pulled out a sack with someone's things (What Hector had salvaged from his home) before he began to size up every person and every weapon.
Rosie was meant to show some decorum in front of her new minion if nothing else. There'd be time to grow more familiar, and lax, once this deed was done. That is why, with the many ready to arm up next to them, she had expected Evelinde to behave.
Because there is one thing Rosie was sure of, and Evelinde needed not know her lady well to be aware of this, and it was that descendants of The Order, warriors or not, were far sturdier than average humans. Even the 'common' mortals in the group had been strengthened simply by proxy. True those were the weakest link in Evelinde's eyes, but the group was mostly composed of the former, not the later, and their desire to keep each other alive would see them through this.
More than that, Evelinde couldn't say. Although her grandmother's tales of what her husband, a normal human being, could do to protect his family, even in Hell, made the young demoness see the true danger a capable, motivated, or really pissed off human being could pose.
"You and your books." Rosie finally let her mirth die down enough to talk. "But do let your fantasies rest for the time being. I have a job for you: Keep an eye on them while they are out, will you? I had planned for you to work alongside our new friend here." She placed a hand on Carlos' shoulder. To his credit, the young man just nodded, accepting the clear leash without a problem. "He will work closely with us from now on, more so than the others. I expect you will ensure he is safe if things don't go as planned."
Evelinde gave a gentle nod. "Of course, my lady. But do you think I should take part, or…?"
"Don't. Not yet." Rosie's voice became firm. "Carlos here may have asked for me to give these interlopers a chance, and I may have agreed to his request, but we all know this is not going to be solved with words." And Rosie had been brutally honest moments before Evelinde came in. The younger demon had heard her, and had felt how somber the mortals had turned for a second. Still, they recovered fairly quickly, or at least they tried their best to put on a mask. "My greatest worry right now is how hard the frenzy will hit them."
Carlos gave Rosie a look. "Frenzy?"
"Like many war animals when first released in battle, sometimes even with extensive training." Rosie said with a strange smirk not even Evelinde could place. "The Order trains their children much that way. Extreme sense of duty honed with constant training regimes, my dear. Your blood has been blessed by Heaven, ironic as it may be right now, but back in the day The Order were little more than humans able to fight ancient demonic forces. They were driven into a holy frenzy of rage towards the first demons, and for a good reason."
Rosie lifted her free hand, her claws growing longer and sharper with little more than a thought. It was just for show however, and she soon retracted them. A simple show indeed, but one she hoped would convey the right meaning. She was dangerous, and she was far, FAR, removed from the true monsters that had once been the only demons in Hell.
Rosie knew of Hell's history, as a proper lady should. But brevity was key here, so better be quick. "Primal demons and angels, far from what they look and behave like today, were brutal and monstrous, each in their own way. Both our kins changed, yes, but our nature did not. I expect some of you will feel the need to go… overboard, shall we say. I will not allow that to hurt my people. You work for me now, my dear: Only kill those under me if I order you to."
The young man nodded, and Evelinde had to wonder. As nice and respectful as he had been, would he turn into something more fitting of Hell if he lost his composure? The young demoness had never faced The Order. Well, as said, she hadn't even seen any other human for that matter. The reason she only had photos was because her grandfather had passed away a few years before Evelinde's birth. All she knew of him were tales from her mother, aunt and grandma.
He was also a normal human, a human thrown in as a sacrifice when someone summoned Evelinde's grandmother. Although none that knew him would call him 'normal' if they saw him when angry. Evelinde was sure those tales she was told were no exaggerations.
Funny how the bloody mess was made from the incompetent summoner that broke the most important part of their rituals: The summoning circle. While Evelinde's grandfather got out of it alive the summoner did not, in fact he didn't get out at all, not even in pieces. It made Evelinde smile every time she thought about how his supposed sacrifice ended living a long happy life, with a wife and two daughters to boot. Fate sure could take interesting twists and turns.
"Do not worry." Evelinde finally decided to talk to the young man directly. "I promise to help if you need it. But I am sure everything will be alright."
Evelinde could see her lady smirking at her, knowing full well the morbid interest her aide took in the living world. It would be foolish to say Evelinde did this out of the goodness in her heart, but it was far more amicable an offer than most demons would make.
"Oh, much appreciated." Though it surprised both Rosie and Evelinde just how cold and distant Carlos' answer was. He hadn't reacted like that to Rosie. "Sorry… uh… That came out wrong? I am just a bit stressed right now."
Evelinde glanced at her lady, but Rosie clearly didn't know what to say, or think. The Overlord's short time with the man had made it look like he was quite open and nice, and this was perhaps as friendly, if not more so, than Rosie's own act.
"I understand." And while Evelinde was far more direct than her superior, she could still don her mask when needed. "I just hope we can work together well. But allow me to correct a small mistake. Lady Rosie already mentioned it, but my name is Evelinde, Evelinde Newmaw, or Evelin Newman if you want my 'human' name." Her expectations were low, but she did offer her hand to the young man. Perhaps she'd be surprised.
And she was. Perhaps out of obligation, respect, or reflex, but Carlos did take her hand and offered it a gentle kiss.
It was far warmer than she had felt with any demon doing the same. Perhaps because she didn't feel the need to keep her other hand at the ready for a fight.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. And, much like with you, Lady Rosie mentioned it, but still; My name is Carlos, Carlos Guerrero Manzanares, here to serve Lady Rosie. And of course, at your service."
Neither demoness missed the fact that, while sincere and very well mannered, the young man seemed forced in his act. Not towards Rosie, no. Carlos seemed to hold respect to his new Overlord, something Evelinde clearly took notice of. But towards her? There was mistrust. Funny if one was to consider the two demons' nature and who was far more sneaky in her actions. In fact he retracted his hand and face faster than she'd expect. It wasn't like her gloves were coated in blood (this time) or anything.
There was something there, but Evelinde wouldn't ask, not yet. Perhaps her lady Rosie would inquire and inform her later? Prying, if he didn't like her for some reason, could end badly.
"Well, you are quite the gentleman when you want to." Rosie chuckled, clearly turning the situation around. Tension was not a good mix in the eve of any battle. It could lead to mistakes. "It is a shame many in your family are not so… tactful."
"My father worked himself to the bone and taught me of duty. My mother took care of me and taught me respect." Carlos admitted, quickly taking his attention from Evelinde to face Rosie. "She wished for me to have manners, to be friendly, to respect others and be a good person." It was minute, very fast too, but Evelinde saw a small frown on his face. "I grew up to respect my elders, women and people's differences." And as he spoke further the small hints became more common. "And with time I have learned to do otherwise. My father didn't have a chance to, but when the time came he made one thing clear: Respect is earned, not given."
Rosie seemed more than glad to hear that though. "A good lesson is never late, if you learn and learn well. But that does beg the question: Do I have your respect, my dear?"
"You offer a service for another and you were quite upfront about your motives. You even allowed me to back out of this deal, if for your own self interest, but you were upfront about it. I think that places you far ahead than most people I knew on Earth. That many of them were likely ass-inine, likely thanks to the Mark of Sin, does no detract from my disdain towards them." Carlos answered candidly. It was funny how he corrected himself at the last second. "So yes, if nothing else I respect you more than I do many people I have known in my life. That is the only reason we are in this situation, I think. If you had been sneaky in your demands I may have bitten the bullet and supported my grandmother. And believe me when I say I really, REALLY didn't want to do that."
Evelinde saw both of them frown, each with their own reason behind their displeasure.
"I may play games of cloak and dagger when needed, but I think we both can agree on such a thing being unnecessary, even problematic, at this time. That, and I saw no reason to play with you, my dear." Rosie waved her hand, whatever had happened she was unwilling to take offense or make a big deal of it. "I do have a friend that loves twisting words far more than I. I am sure you'll meet him later, although with your preference for forwardness… maybe you two won't hit it off, as it were."
Carlos gave a nod. He truly didn't seem all that bothered. Evelinde wondered if that would remain the case when he finally got to meet the Radio Demon. "I have experience making nice when needed. It may show if I don't like it, but I won't be jumping at every shadow that comes close to my person."
Rosie and Evelinde both chuckled at those words, with Rosie remarking. "We'll see about that, dear. We'll see about that…"
Impeccable timing, for it looked like the group had finished as soon as Rosie's words left her mouth. Evelinde wouldn't consider any of those she saw to be the shining knights of the Holy Church, nor would she want to, but she had to admit the small group of humans now had an air about them that would make many hellborn pause for a second.
It wasn't that they were going to induce fear. It was that no one would be stupid enough to face them without guns or magic, because all of them had been equipped for hand to hand combat except for two.
Manuel came first with his rifle. A relic from after the Spanish Civil War, and an old reminder of what he had to do when he was conscripted into the military. Training to be the best of the best was a cruel endeavor when you had no choice in the matter, and he had to do worse than just hurt decent people, just to keep his own family safe. The triangle bayonet affixed at the lever action was of blessed steel, and Evelinde had seen how he had been given a few sacred bullets too. The bullets weren't many, but that was enough for the one firearm in the group considering Enomoto could make ammo and addons, but if he had one flaw it was modern weapon crafting. It was obvious that angelic weapons beyond bows wouldn't be forthcoming from the man.
Akiko had her bow and blade, but she wasn't the only one to have a very local piece of equipment. Perhaps Jamba was not of Masai blood, but had opted for a very close replica of a Lion Spear made by Enomoto, that and a relatively simple metal shield. The young man was strong, tall and sturdy, and he knew he could hold the line or even impale an enemy if it came down to it.
Javier and his brother Enrique had joined the shieldwall in front of Jamba, ready to keep their cousin protected as he used his spear. For Javier and his large size he had been handed a war hammer meant to crush and shunder, something he was more than qualified for. His brother, Enrique, had opted for an axe, brutal, capable of chopping limbs and destructive even with little skill wherever it hit.
More impressive and clearly offensive were the two older men behind them. Mario held a two handed polehammer in his hands; a brutal blunt end on the front, a pike on the top and a pick on the back. Meanwhile his brother in law, Juan, held a hooked blade, a two handed falx, as if it was natural for him to do so. It was a brutal weapon clearly made to cleave without remorse, probably able to crush through armor, flesh and bone if used correctly.
Cruelty, or perhaps utility, was more clear when it came to Valentina, Francisco and Gonzalo. Enomoto had prepared for them what they used best; Valentina had knives, many of them, including a brutal looking cleaver, as she was the one to prepare fish and knew very well how to gut whatever she needed to. Francisco was no good with spears, but he had been drawn to a group of three harpoons, his blood almost resonating with the implements that once hunted whales, now here to skewer whoever threatened the family. And as for Gonzalo? A hook and a chain, something the young man was playing with as if it was a toy, and handling it far better than he should.
The less apt were those with no blood ties to the Order. But even they had found something in the many weapons Enomoto had crafted and decided to take with him on this journey.
Ernesto was far from experienced, but he held a short sword with a firm hand. It was nondescript, simple, but elegant. A good weapon made to be reliable and usable by anyone that wished to. Perfect for beginners and experts, so long as you knew what to do and didn't opt for the more easy to use and 'safe' spear. Evelinde had seen the young man practice a few thrusts and stabs, and she knew that, if his reflexes held, and he survived, he could make a decent duelist if he were to train.
Ander, on the other hand, was not what most would've expected. The parkour enthusiast had metal studded gloves and reinforced shoes. Light, quick and not very damaging. He was fast, not strong, tall, but not tough. It was clear that the last member of this group knew he was likely there to hurt and be a bother, not to finish the job unless he was lucky. Still, blessed as they were, his hands and feet now were weapons that could kill, and anyone willing to ignore the young man would be committing a stupid act indeed.
Evelinde could only marvel at just how many weapons were still there, but no one was going to be stupid enough to try and reach for that. Not even her Lady Rosie would likely ask for that cache. Those weapons had been handpicked by their maker in case they were useful for the family, and while many would go unused who knows for how long, Evelinde was sure they would not remain dormant if the need arose.
Besides, given time, it was likely that Enomoto would make more for the Colony, if asked properly.
Manuel came forward after giving everyone a last check. "Everyone is ready… Or as ready as they will be."
Before Rosie could say anything, and much to Evelinde's surprise as the man startled her, Nathaniel stepped away from the doorway and in front of the group.
"Allow me something first." The angel intoned, his voice taking a different form as whatever was said no one understood.
Perhaps the words weren't understood, no, but the effects were felt.
As Nathaniel's words were spoken the humans in the group noticed many things. They felt lighter, motivated, their muscles strengthened, old wounds, age and other negative attributes felt lessened, as if all of them had gotten energy they never thought they had, or that they had lost long ago. It wasn't as if they felt superhuman, but, in a way, they did feel more than they had been seconds ago.
"I was not supposed to act. This will create… problems. But at this point I don't think I can escape retribution anyway." Nathaniel hummed, clearly not too perturbed by the fact. "A small blessing for you all. A little 'help'. Much like the translation spell you have enjoyed until now."
One of the group, Gonzalo, lifted his hook. "Yo, what do you mean with 'translation spell'? Weren't we speaking perfect Spanish for the last however long?"
Evelinde looked at the young man as if he was stupid. Rosie clicked her tongue. Of course they hadn't been speaking Spanish! Neither Evelinde nor Rosie knew a lick of it. Well, perhaps Rosie, but Evelinde had never asked, nor had she been present if it was ever needed.
How could he-Oh, alright. He hadn't noticed.
"Young man, I do not speak Spanish." Nathaniel tutted with a chuckle. "I may be over a hundred, but I have always been horrible with languages. I speak English and that is it. Lady Rosie and her aide Evelinde have been doing the same all this time."
"Oh…" This time it was his cousin Ernesto the one to talk. "And… how long will this last? I think only a handful of us know English."
"Not long I am afraid, and I doubt anyone in Hell will cast this spell once a day without being a pain for you to pay them back." Nathaniel shook his head. "I used a lot of magic for that one however. You should have a few days before it goes off. After that? Well… I would recommend that all of you begin to study."
"Welp, if we end up fighting I am going to throw myself at whoever is killing me the fastest."
The attempt at a joke wasn't exactly appreciated by most. Some, like Gonzalo, didn't mind letting out a loud 'HAH!' at Ander's morbid sense of humor.
"No one is allowed to die, you moron. Save the stupid jokes for later." Manuel grumbled, the harsh stare of a grandfather piercing an unruly child having effect even on an adult. "We are thankful for your aid, Nathaniel."
"If I could do more, I would." The angel grimaced. It was clear to Evelinde that at least this angel was the decent kind, a rarity, and not only in Hell. "But this will already put my position at risk. The best I can do afterwards is spend a few more hours here. So long as I don't stay for more than that neither I nor your family should have any other visits from Heaven… until New Year comes."
The family as a whole grimaced. Evelinde didn't know what it was about, yet, but she was likely to be told later.
"Then you won't come visit?" Carlos' question seemed sincere at first, but when everyone glared at him he had to come clean. "What? He at least wants to help. I am not going to deny it'd be nice to have him lend a hand, but I am also asking because it seems you are going to have a hard time upstairs."
Nathaniel at least seemed to take it for what it was. "I wish I could help more, but at best I will be able to contact you by some means or another. Heaven will monitor me closely after this day. Rule breakers tend to be frowned upon."
"That we have noticed, yes." Manuel grumbled as he looked at his family. Clearly, rules were *very* important for those people.
"At best I can give you a literal physical hand now and that'll be it." Nathaniel nodded towards Akiko. "It wouldn't be exactly called 'help' if I offer one of you a lift. Having the high ground tends to be quite beneficial in a fight. But after that I'll come back here and that is it."
Evelinde could see Carlos grimace at the thought. "We may not need to fight, Nathaniel."
"I am just being realistic." The angel chastised. "I wish to think the best of people, and many Sinners aren't truly evil. However, a large gang pursuing two singular, likely lower caste, demons? I have little doubt that you will see something that will make conflict the only way out."
Rosie clapped her hands. This conversation had been going long enough. Everyone had a weapon and she wanted this little 'test' over and done with. That, and she wanted to know what a member of the Greed Ring was doing here. She needed that demon alive.
"That is enough discussion then." She eyed Carlos with a firm stare. "My dear, follow Evelinde. She will guide all of you as soon as she gets fresh information." Then she turned to Evelinde, urgency clear in her tone. "Bring the demons alive. I want information. And Evelinde, remember: Do not involve yourself if there is a fight, unless you need to keep Carlos safe."
Gonzalo was, as it was apparently going to be the norm, the one to butt in. "And what about us?"
"All of you better stay alive too. But this is a test for all of you and I have only made a deal with young Carlos here." Rosie chidded, clearly unamused by the interruption. "You are on a trial period, my dear. Pass it and what I promised goes into effect. Besides, scars would look good on you."
Whether Rosie was serious or not Evelinde couldn't say, though the clear smirk on her face told the younger demoness she wasn't exactly genuine. The Overlord didn't take that kindly to people like Gonzalo after all.
"Now move out." Rosie commanded, much of her good demeanor replaced with a commanding tone. "Use that new strength to get me those demons. And, if there is a fight? Evelinde will get some of my people so they will bring me the Sinners' bodies." And, in a rare display of control lost, her dark droll did a number intimidating the mortals into compliance. "It seems I may have to remind those once human and hellborn alike that no one is allowed within my property without asking first. If you need to send a message, make it clear."
While disturbed, and clearly afraid, Carlos was the first to act. Evelinde knew why. The deal he had made was bound to make him compliant, whether he wanted or not. As such it wasn't surprising that he bowed and said.
"Yes ma'am. We'll be back shortly." However, before going, he paused. "But could I take something with us first?"
Rosie nodded, her composure slowly coming back as she took a napkin to clear away her mess. Evelinde could see how her Overlord blushed as she did so. It wasn't common for her to lose composure like that, but Evelinde had to admit she understood why. This was quite the monumental thing.
Although she had to frown as she eyed Carlos as he guided his cousin Akiko as they rummaged through the sack of assorted goodies from their uncle, seeking for something.
It was somewhat sad, or so Evelinde thought. The young man had seemed nice already. The compulsion, strange as it could sound coming from a demon, was something she found distasteful.
Still, it was their business. Evelinde's duty now was to guide them to wherever those future corpses were.
Because come on. Everyone knew a fight was brewing, even if the mortals wanted it to be otherwise. Even the angel said so!
Evelinde was amazed at how precise the only archer of the family was. Or how dedicated the two brothers and their cousin became as soon as the shields had to go up. They were a haphazard group as the family lined up, moments before the clash, but they all had grown incensed and motivated.
This was going to be a massacre. A brutal one. And Evelinde couldn't wait.
"Please, Miss Evelinde." Akiko was notching another arrow, calming breaths coming in and out as she took aim. "Can you please do as Carlos instructed?"
The demoness looked at the side. There, sitting on the ground, was a laptop. A very 'strong' laptop, from what she had been told.
Evelinde wasn't keen on advanced technology, like many of her kin. They liked things the old way in most senses of the word. Still, some DID get interesting gadgets, or follow modern standards, but not when Rosie was around. She had her rules and they were to be obeyed. Evelinde? She was very much like Rosie in her old fashioned ways, and quite happy for it.
At least the instructions were simple enough: Touch any key, wait for the screen to light up, then hit these other keys, wait for the question and then press enter again.
Why? She didn't know. Carlos and some of his cousins had only chuckled and called it 'fitting' for some reason.
Then the music began, almost deafening in strength as it drowned the battle now raging underneath them, and she understood.
[Search for Sabaton - Burn Your Crosses. Since FanFiction doesn't allow me to add links.]
The crack of a rifle firing once made many of those around Manuel grimace and flinch, but the three young men in front of him braced anyway. A figure in front of them skidded to the ground, a fist sized hole going through her throat as the once flaming creature had her fire died out alongside her life.
That made two corpses, thirty more to be made.
Sinners behind the first didn't even acknowledge the black blood spraying all over their faces. They were either high, furious enough to not care, or fantasizing about what they'd do with so many human bodies, living or not. A few of them were stupid, brazen or mindful enough, as they had spares, to throw whatever they had on hand.
Enrique and Jamba both managed to block everything that came their way, their shields making the projectiles bounce or get stuck. Javier wasn't so lucky, as there is no such thing as perfect defense, as a small, but very sharp blade got stuck on his shield arm.
But the young man didn't let go. That wound was for later, right now he had to hold.
His father was of a different mind, though.
The moment the Sinners made contact it was chaos, a place where either instinct, or skill, prevails. And the humans had, in most cases, a wealth of instinct to go back to. Whether warriors or not, it all came natural to them.
Mario was the first to act. Anger at how his son had been wounded was so prevalent in his mind that some could swear the air around him cracked and bent as if the temperature rose. He used the polehammer as a pike, going between his children as the initial push nearly made them break away, and skewering a thin, tall Sinner that would have ignored the shields and hit those behind with ease.
Now he couldn't, not after Mario's action pushed everyone, Sinner and mortal alike, apart, helping break the initial push while dragging the screaming creature into the ground. The spike pierced his chest and lodged itself somewhere painful, painful enough for the condemned soul to try and claw the man's face away as he lost his grip on whatever weapon he had been holding. Not that it did anything beyond infuriating the man as he kicked the Sinner's in the face, making him spit blood before he pulled, extracting not only the spike, but a scream from the Sinner, before Mario raised the hammer with cruel intent. There was no doubt or pause before he applied as much force as he could, bringing the polehammer down with a cracking, brutal sound that heralded the splash of brain matter, bone, flesh and blood.
It was a visceral, gory show that had somehow captivated everyone.
But it was done now.
With the brutality assured beyond any doubt, and with the humans clearly pushing back where the Sinners thought they'd drop them in an instant, the battle took off in earnest.
The trio at the front took the brunt of it, as they were meant to. Between the three of them they managed to stop no less than nine of the Sinners, the wound on Javier's arm doing nothing to deter his determination as the nine figures pushed back on them. It WAS enough to make him flinch though, and the Sinners nearly pushed through, weren't it for Javier's brother and his cousin pushing back.
Jamba could be the shortest of the three, but he was still large, strong and very much determined on stopping these monsters. The fallen humans weren't even trying to act together, or they were incapable of doing so. To him it made no difference. He was no warrior, but Jamba was more than quick, strong and agile enough to pull his spear back and then stab the Sinner in front of him through the face.
It was disgusting how the hat-like head separated, the tophat appendage thin enough for the spear's blade to bisect it… and go through. The force was such that it ended up impaling the next Sinner through the dolphin like snout, going through it in a slightly upwards and sideways motion, piercing through the right eye and dropping him too. A disgustingly wet squelch was heard the moment Jamba got ready for more, the second body being pushed away with a kick as the young man fought out another enemy.
Enrique was brutal and angry as he shoved the Sinners threatening his brother away with a single push. It was a risky thing, a maneuver that left him exposed, and he paid for it.
A knife was lodged in his chest, then some blunt thing, a pipe, cracked the side of his face. He could tell his lower jaw had been dislocated, it wasn't the first time in his life, and the feeling was sadly well known. But pain right now was not important, protecting his family was, and this was not the first time he had suffered grievous injuries keeping them safe. The only difference was it was very likely he'd die if he failed.
Not that he was going to, not today. If his determination hadn't been enough then the fire guiding his hand sure as hell was.
That same shield he wielded was a weapon, much as his axe. Perhaps he didn't know, but his blood did. Pushing the hand back, then forward, the sickening crunch of someone's nose was paired with a brutal kick to the chest delivered to another Sinner, the third and fourth being meet with a brutal downwards swing of the axe aimed with the rear head, a blunt hammer impact. It crushed a starfish looking Sinner's side of the head, throwing them to the ground and pushing those behind the creature away. The blow didn't stop there as a plant-like woman had her lower jaw not dislocated, but downright torn apart by the powerful strike, dispersing splinters, plant matter, black sap and teeth in every direction as the man pushed forward.
As soon as he over-extended his brother was there for him, while Jamba protected their flank. Javier was hurt, yes, but the warhammer did not lie on the wounded arm, and there was a reason behind hammers having a reputation for being devastating weapons. And the young man demonstrated the moment he cut an ark in front of him to keep his brother from going too far.
A thin, bone like arm sailed in an ark, someone lost part of their face, and another Sinner tried to charge Javier as he recovered from the swing, only for the hammer to turn way midair as Enrique used the weapon's pick on the back to cut from one side to the other, all but soaring through the air in the opposite direction. Had it not been an entity made mostly of some kind of strands it could've been impressive when the human turned demon was cut in half as the pick, meant for piercing but also sharp enough to cut if necessary, 'gutted' the creature. Composition aside, it did not detract from the brutality of it all as the lifeless corpse's halves, losing its strange stitches keeping it together, fell on the ground with a wet splat. It was made clear that strands weren't the only thing that composed the body of the Sinner, the insides being perfectly 'normal' as life, and blood, escaped the entity.
Not all kills were that fast, and somehow the damned were too fast when it came to healing. Be it thanks to their powers or something else, perhaps the closeness of the humans or some substance, any non fatal wounds recovered very fast.
Pain was a good motivator to survive. And with six dead already the once thirty two strong group only had a two to one advantage.
To the left side Carlos and his father had engaged three more Sinners, soon to be two. Carlos was more cautious, but his father still had anger left over from the revelations brought up by Nathaniel.
Someone had to pay.
And a very stupid woman apparently made of ice didn't seem to think that the blade in his hands could cut her. A safe assumption in most cases. Even Exterminators would have a hard time going through her body, just by seconds mind you, but it had saved her before. Overconfidence did not do people any favors, but this one woman was sure she could overpower the man and get a new toy out of it.
That is, until she charged at Juan, a jagged knife in hand and a clear scream of bloodlust being her only plan. Even the most incompetent fighter could've taken advantage of that, and Juan did.
Lifting the sword, then quickly lowering it. A downward slash of no practical skill against a lithe and clearly agile (for a block of ice) opponent. The female Sinner had too much confidence on her natural armor however, and she couldn't fully understand why she lost feeling everywhere a moment after the man struck her. That confusion was the last thing she could think of as she was separated in two halves, the flesh underneath the surface ice bleeding like any other, coating Juan's body in the Sinner's fluids before the entrails began to spread through the ground.
Her companion wasn't any better, either through the same confidence or real anger at the loss of the woman next to him. He charged at the man, a massive knife in hand, while some kind of aura began to take form. Juan didn't really care what the Sinner was doing or what it could mean, all he knew was that the sword was almost stuck in the ground. Almost. Because as the Sinner approached, all Juan had to do was push the sword upwards, using it like a horrid meathook that caught the porcine Sinner on the gut as Juan used strength born of anger and desperation for everyone to survive.
The screams were just as disgustingly horrid and traumatizing as the body falling, and cutting itself, on the blade. But no one had time to let it process, only push on as Juan tried to dislodge the dead thing, one he could hardly think of as anything but a piece of disgusting pork, from his weapon.
Carlos seemed to think the same when it came to the Sinner that had ended in front of him. The man in front of him was much larger, a creature that seemed to emulate a catfish with electricity arcing through his whiskers. It was weak though, very weak, almost looking malnourished, and the shocks hadn't been as strong as they should've, at least in Carlos' mind. But the discharges had been strong enough to make one of his legs and one of his arms fall asleep. His left side was useless for a few seconds. The only good thing about this was that the catfish Sinner had gone to the side to just screw people over. He was clearly a coward.
But when a coward thinks they have the upper hand, they tend to get overconfident.
Perhaps it was the lust for life, or the desire to finally have one of the humans dead and on the ground, but the Sinner lunged forward. Credit where it is due, the bastard had two large rows of fangs within his mouth, more like a shark than anything else.
Natural prower did little here. The fish Sinner could be a clear coward, but he was also all speed, and Carlos had his side paralyzed. The same side that got caught by the catfish Sinner as he sunk his teeth on the young man's arm. Hadn't it been for Nathaniel then those fangs would've torn Carlos' arm right off. With the blessing in place there was pain, and shallow puncture wounds, but Carlos' arm held.
The same couldn't be said for the Sinner's throat the moment it started trying to trash around and rip at the human's flesh. Carlos wasn't keen on killing, like the rest of his family, but instincts took over at last and the navaja went for the weak spot, slitting the Sinner's throat in a quick, fluid motion, making the catfish gasp for air in both surprise and pain. It was a moment of weakness as he pushed away from the young human, a moment Carlos took full advantage of, slipping the switchblade between the fish' ribs and cutting away like a maniac.
Whatever Carlos hit, he shredded.
It was a brutal, gory sight, one that the young man revealed in it. Perhaps it was because, despite having the heart pierced, the Sinner hadn't died, instead fighting back, trying to claw at Carlos as the human slapped away hands and feet whenever they came close. A simple, automated response as the chest of his enemy slowly became nothing but a puddle of blood and white cracks as the holy energy in his weapon started to do away with the surprisingly resilient soul.
By the time Carlos was done the Sinner had been long dead, and the young man was left with a mess on his hands and clothes as he zoned out, turning back to the ongoing fight.
There was no opportunity given to other Sinners so they could go for him as he zealously butchered their fellow. Everyone was occupied, and it was becoming clear that the humans weren't going to die just like that. In fact some of them were starting to scare the Sinners as the tenth body piled up on their side.
The plant Sinner from before had recovered, only for an arrow to pierce her where the heart should've been. Much like the catfish, that wasn't enough to kill her somehow, but the shot coming from Manuel's rifle, the one that blew her head the moment she began to scream, did the trick. Blood, gray matter, bone, plant fragments and a muffled, gurgled scream sprayed the area around the now corpse.
But that wasn't what scared the Sinners, that was just the little distraction that allowed someone else to finally get the upper hand.
Valentina had been fighting a multi armed and tentacled 'thing'. Whatever the Sinner was, it looked like a mix of an insect and something brought from Lovercraft's addled mind. Somehow it looked like the Sinner was impervious to pain, or just a disgustingly depraved masochist, because every time the woman's cleaver cut one of the tentacles, or hands, the thing just laughed her way. Had she known that many Sinners' forms echo either their form of death, or what lies within their soul, perhaps Valentina would've wondered what kind of thing this was. Everything was pushed aside the second shot rang through the street and the tide of fallen souls began to recede, because it was then that the Sinner's singular eye looked away for a second.
And the moment the Sinners began to see just how unhinged the humans were becoming.
The Sinner was much taller than Valentina, but the short woman made it clear just how much of a disadvantage that was. One of her many knives found their way right to the lanky otherworldly Sinner's privates. Whatever he, she, or it had been, that was now likely void and null. The scream of pain hinted at the Sinner being a male, and 'being' was fully intended to be past tense. Though it quickly became obvious that his gonads were only the beginning.
How the fallen human hadn't landed on his knees from pain alone no one would know, but that probably had been the worst thing possible. Why? Because the madwoman's cleaver soon found its way to the Sinner's chest, a sickening crunch of cut and broken bones mixed with the slick and wet echo of flesh and blood meeting metal. Her derangement was clear the moment she tried to use it for support and climb the Sinner's body, clear bloodlust and some insane hunger etched in her expression.
It was just support though, for soon Valentina drew on more knives, a smile fitting of a psychopath dominating the woman's face as she began to cut and carve, to stick knife after knife on the Sinner's multiple arms and tentacles. She was slowly pushing the tall creature to the ground, doubling on himself, until she finally pinned him. Then she made sure he wouldn't move, pushing the blades deep into the pavement through her own might, the blessing or the holy metal just making it easier somehow as they didn't bend, break or dull.
What came after could hardly be described as anything other than a live, awake, and very much painful vivisection as Valentina's more deranged and violent tendencies came to bear.
The whole scene had made the Sinners pause for a second, enough for more of them to become prey instead of predator.
And while it had been the Sinners the one willing to take full advantage of any opportunity given when this first began, now it was the time of the humans pushing back. The Sinners had misused their advantage and just acted like a mob, now they were going to pay the price.
The healed starfish sinner came first the moment a hook landed right on its mouth. Whether by chance or skill, the action was as painful as it was horrible the moment he was made like a fish and reeled back, right in the middle of the human group, not that anyone seemed to care, too busy pushing the other Sinners even further.
No one but one of the two normal humans, side by side with Gonzalo as he dragged the writhing Sinner like the fresh catch of the day.
There were no words as Ernesto calmly (Or apparently calm. More akin to shell shocked) walked towards the Sinner, short sword on hand, ignoring whatever the Sinner was trying to say. There were things on the young man's head, many doubts and thoughts, but he paid none of them any heed as he readied the weapon to do what had to be done. He went so far as to ignore one of the star man's swipes with barbs sticking from his skin, cutting on his chest. He just gritted his teeth, took a firm hold of the weapon and…
That was twelve down.
At this point some of the Sinners were rethinking things. The initial rage and euphoria from combat and the chance of getting and using fresh souls, as well as the initial push by their leader, hadn't helped them mow down their target. Worse yet was the realization that many of those that had some kind of decent power had gone ahead and gotten themselves killed like absolute morons already.
Most of those left were above the strength of a human, but none of them were truly skilled in a fight. Not that the humans were either, but whereas the sinners were losing themselves to their most basic desire instilled by their lust for a living soul, the ones that all but engineered them for this single purpose were fighting on autopilot fueled trance.
Was it so strange for some of them to turn tail and run? Those that opted to do just that decided that no, no it wasn't wrong. At least until one of them got his arm shot and another female Sinner got an arrow to the back. This time it wasn't fatal, but not all of them were as lucky or as quick to heal wounds made by blessed weapons.
One of them wasn't going to heal at all.
The thirteenth death came from a bird like Sinner, a male that almost fit the description of a gryphon, as he finally got wise enough to use his wings to get out of here. Or he would have done so if he hadn't been impaled through the chest by a harpoon the moment he lifted from the ground.
The wound would've been fatal for a mortal, and extremely damaging otherwise, at least for most demons, but the tug that came afterwards, the chain connecting the now lodged harpoon dragging the Sinner down, back to the ground, only made it worse. Not as bad as the next harpoon obliterating his side, that is for sure. But with two massive rods of metal weighing him down, and with pain making it hard to fly, the avian Sinner had no real way of dodging the third harpoon as it went straight for his face.
No one saw where it really hit, no one cared. The humans were now pushing harder, three more Sinners being killed one way or another as the numbers' advantage all but went away, making the fallen humans finally turn tail and run.
Had they used their powers and abilities, meager as they were, then things would've been much, much different. But Pride wasn't the ring that housed human souls for no reason. Pride and anger were dominant in most fallen humans, and this fight was just one example of how little care most of them would exert.
The beetle Sinner was a perfect example of this.
"Stay put ya fuckin' bitch!"
He had been clearly in charge alongside his carapaceous buddy. However it had been clear that the man was simply not smart enough, or capable of self control to the point of being effective. Seer might, a friend with clearly a saner mind and simple brutal desires were obviously what allowed him to get this crew together, other than the need of getting rid of the debt accumulated that is. But that power was a problem, more so for the vanilla human that was dodging his punches.
From the get go Ander had moved to the side. No one seemed to care much about the lone human parting from the front line, at least until the beetle like Sinner went to charge alongside the others. At that point Ander sprung, charging at the beetle from the side, delivering a powerful kick to the knee that should've shattered bone, more so with the reinforced shoes he now sported.
Unsurprisingly, the armored Sinner had suffered damage, but he hadn't been crippled.
Carapace, much like armor, can crack and fall off, or fail utterly when saving someone's life as the armor bent and instead impaled or crushed the one it was trying to defend, but this Sinner clearly didn't seem to need luck at this point. As soon as danger had shown itself more arrows came in his direction, yet none connected. It was as if his hide had grown thicker now that he knew his life was in danger. Similarly, the damage done by Ander patched up quickly, much like that on his arm, with splinters of his chitin regenerating as soon as the young man punched or kicked some away.
If this was hurting, or tiring, the Sinner, then that wasn't showing, and Akiko wasn't going to shoot his way again. There was a chance to hit Ander as he dodged, jumped and goaded the Sinner into exerting himself more and more. Perhaps Manuel's gun could've done something, but he was just as likely to make things worse if the bullet bounced and hit someone else. All this was doing was pissing the Sinner off, and no amount of maneuvers, feints and admittedly strong hits would make any difference.
And seeing his minions flee seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back.
"Hermes! Do somethin' ya sissy fuck!"
No sooner was it said that it happened.
"AGH! FUCK!"
One, two, three small but clearly painful knives all hit their mark. Two more went above Ander's head the moment he dropped, and it was just that little slip to the pavement that ended up just hurting him, not having his throat and head pierced.
But it was clearly not good. The others had wounds, some more superficial, others, like Enrique's, more serious. But Ander had taken two knives to his right leg, they could've cut something important, while another had hit him in the left arm, next to the elbow, very close to an artery. The lack of a gushing wound was enough to mean there was a chance at it being bad, but not horrible.
It still left him on the ground, with Sinners fleeing as the beetle walked closer to the now downed human as Ander tried to push away.
"I told you to not play around, Dwayne." The lobster Sinner, now identified as Hermes, finally approached. He was clearly annoyed, towering above Ander as his partner in crime, Dwayne, stomped towards the wounded human. "Now look at this shit."
"Yeah, yeah, whateva." The beetle Sinner growled. The rest of the human family had put down some of the stragglers and those that kept on fighting, making the survivors, counting these two still here, number less than ten. "Ya pricks! Stay there or I'll cave this asshole's chest in!"
The man did the exact same thing he had done before. He applied force to someone's chest with his feet. And this time, unlike before, he had a good reason to.
"Ya know how everyone got a thin' or two hidden? Well, ya wanna know mine? I loved livin' on ma family's farm. Ya could do a lot of shit to them animals without anyone givin' two shits. True ma 'n' pa didn't like it, but meh, they were nos aints let me tell ya." Dwayne chuckled, his cruel gaze looking at the mortals as he pushed harder against the young man under him. "So do believe me, friendos; yer gonna let me 'n' my friend here go with our prize, or we 're gonna show ya all exactly how easy it is to make a pig puke its own guts. Got it?"
While the humans had mostly calmed down, most of them still holding weapons covered in blood and with a look of bewildered shock, rage and different kinds of horror and disgust, Hermes had ignored it all. The Sinner just walked away from the mess, going for the two demons. Why would he care after all? There was nothing there that could hurt him.
The gun? A lever action would hurt, but unless his armor cracked it wasn't going to do shit now. Dwayne, as stupid as he was, wasn't going to lower his guard either. So no gun and no bow. The worst could come from the hammers in the group, hammers that wouldn't come closer if they wanted the other little shit to survive. There was simply no danger to either Sinner anymore. They had lost a lot of the crew, but Hermes could hardly care less, and he knew Dwayne didnt' give a fuck beyond his pride being hurt.
That is why Hermes didn't charge forth. He would've loved to maim someone, but that blob of idiots going for it like a bull seeing red was meant to get killed even by children. They didn't even use their damn powers except for that fish fuck. Talk about a pathetic sight.
All that was left was cutting the bitch's head off and sending the other as an extra. That was fine. Hermes had knives for this kind of thing. There were many things that would make two Sinners like Hermes and Dwayne try to kill each other, but you know how it is.
Opposites attract. Perhaps not romantically in this case, but they worked well together.
Except when there were distractions.
"Hey motherfucker! CATCH!"
Dwayne turned around, expecting an attack heading his way. But he wasn't the target, and Hermes was far too sure no one would do a thing to jeopardize the human under his companion's boot. In the end Pride did get to him too.
As did the incendiary device heading for his head.
Had Hermes had any hair it would've caught fire, much like the rest of his body. Natural hellborn had nothing to fear when it came to regular fire. Sinners? Oh they could suffer like anyone else, unless they had powers relating to the element and a penchant for burning things. Suffice to say a lobster didn't exactly mix well with anything too hot.
While Hermes rolled around, trying to douse the flames spread by the incendiary explosive that landed on his back, Dwayne saw who was responsible. The bats. The fucking bats had set fire to his friend! Well, that was it then. The Sinner lifted his foot, the human underneath having only time for his eyes to widen as his family tried to get to him. But they wouldn't be fast enough and the bat duo wasn't going to do shit considering anything like that fire bomb would splash the young man's way. If they were going to make things difficult, then the fucker was going to explode like a party favor. He could just blink and see it in his mind.
Then he opened his eyes to stomp and…
Wait… where was his leg?
Who was that broad?
Why… why was she holding… what was she holding?
That slurry of a line of thought was all Dwayne managed to string together before the pain hit him. His leg had been severed, and his screams perfectly defined the scene. It was thus very surprising when he calmed down after just a few seconds of blood curdling venting, just to glare at Evelinde with rage filling his very being.
"You dumb BIT-!"
He didn't get to finish. Oh, he was still alive, but the moment he made ready to lunge at Evelinde, hoping to get the demoness within his arms to squeeze the life out of her, the red clad lady simply plunged her claws under the insectoid man's armpit.
Then clawed UPWARDS in a single motion.
Dwayne's leg touched the ground seconds before both his arms joined it, all the while Dwayne bled profusely, stringing a line of curses, clearly more worried about screaming than trying to recover. The beetle man fell on his ass afterwards, Evelinde chuckling at the sight, ignoring the insults and cleaning the tips of her fingers with a tongue so long that in any other occasion would've served for a rude or sexual comment. Right now it just made the whole scene worse.
"Now look at what you did." Evelinde hummed as she allowed what was left of his blood to drip off her gloves.
The dress was not only made to hide any blood that fell on it, but apparently it also slid off without much worry. A curse or other kind of spell was involved, that was clear. It was something the humans noticed just because the scene was morbid enough to keep them glued where they stood. After all, Ander was safe now, or so they hoped, and no more Sinners were coming.
That, and they didn't want to get close to Evelinde as she approached the fallen Sinner, just in case.
"You made me disobey one of my lady's orders. I hope you understand just how serious this is." Evelinde flicked what was left of the Sinner's blood away from her chest as she walked ahead. She only came to a stop when she stood above the large man, or what was left of him, as he glared at her with full intent of spitting on her face given the chance. "But this'll be a secret between me and my new human friends, you know? No need for more witnesses."
"Watch out!"
Evelinde's fun was interrupted the moment one of the humans got in front of her. She only had a moment to notice it was Carlos, and barely a second to see the bright light that was coming at them from the red sky at incredible speed.
Not that many demons are afraid of dying like a human would. They DO NOT WANT to die, but life and death are different in Hell. People die, yes, but unlike most souls, they cannot really be recycled and erased. Their remains, the energy, sooner or later gives birth to something else. It is not like a human soul's rebirth, for this creates something new, something new that still has a portion of what once was, unlike a human that loses everything that once made them the person they became.
Perhaps that was why Evelinde did not mind the danger. She knew some of those that knew her would not be happy with her passing, some would be sad, but again, death in Hell was not always as impactful. Hellborn weren't made to feel that way, although more and more of those cases had been spreading.
It was generally referred to as being 'too human', funnily enough.
As the light closed in, Evelinde didn't know what she was feeling. Again, she did not want to die, but she had just ripped a man's limbs from his body and she had managed to find something interesting in Hell. She wanted to see where this could lead, but death was just so close, and it had graced her more and more these past months. Evelinde really thought this was it, but she would gladly admit that her last days hadn't been boring if nothing else.
Then Carlos stepped in front of her. Evelinde could swear he had yelled her name as he used his blade in a stupid attempt to deflect whatever it was in an useless attempt at saving her. If Evelinde had the breath for it she would have laughed, she really would.
At least until the light hit him.
And was deflected to the road next to them.
That… should've been impossible. Evelinde did not know what that had been, bullet, arrow, spell or what, but that should've killed them both.
And yet, they were alive.
Blinded temporarily, but alive.
The fact that no one could see anything after the impact was a problem. That they all were alive and well afterwards, with the demons still in place, was good news. Not so good was seeing how Hermes wasn't there, nor was his dismembered friend.
Of course the lobster had doused the fires and dragged his friend away. Even with some time to kill any of them it would've ended up in the pair dead afterwards anyway, and carrying another body was likely the furthest thing on the Sinner's mind.
Well, at least everyone that counted was alive.
"Are you alright?" Carlos asked, his breath uneven as he faced the demoness, her claws still dripping blood. "I… what was that?"
Evelinde took a second to answer. Or perhaps more than a second.
Her mind couldn't really process it. Her charge had saved HER instead of the opposite, as it should've been had he needed help. He would gain nothing from this, more so the moment Rosie learned of Evelinde's involvement in the fight.
Perhaps it was the confusion, that she felt flustered, or that she was trying to hide a small blush at the thought of anyone, especially a human man, saving her, that made her voice come out in a quivering 'I am alright.'. Either way Evelinde managed to survive the embarrassment of it all because Carlos was trying, and failing, to maintain his focus on her.
Until he began dry heaving.
… and then he stopped dry heaving because he couldn't contain it anymore.
This… was not the image she had expected after such an act. But still, Carlos had saved her life.
Perhaps she could get a moment to talk with him afterwards? That is, if Rosie didn't send her to the infirmary after her disobedience.
Whatever happened, it looked like everyone on their side had survived. Far more than Evelinde thought would happen, wounds aside. Would this day bring any new wonders? That thought was a dangerous one, but hey. Who knew?