by Erik Lynd
Christopher nodded reluctantly.
"Wait, just like that? Wouldn't the police be a great resource in something like this? You're just going to walk away?" Eris asked. Christopher could see the darkness was gone from her eyes. She was just Eris again.
"No girl, I am the police, and I'm not just going to walk away. But we have found that the general force is ill equipped to deal with this sort of... of..."
"Supernatural," Christopher helped.
"Supernatural threat. I can't risk their lives on something they can't really understand. Hell, I have no idea what I'm doing here either, but at least my eyes are wide open. I can still borrow police resources as needed, but this case is going to needs some…special resources as well."
"There is also the question of trust. We’ve had bad experiences with members of the force that are less than trustworthy. These dark souls can obtain positions of power, and some can wield a lot of influence. It’s best to just keep this to ourselves,” Christopher said.
"Okay, got it. But just for the record you guys have only stopped one before right? You guys are talking like you’re experts," Eris said.
"She has a point, we really are noobs to all this," Christopher said.
Hamlin nodded, "Yeah, maybe. But still no cops except for me."
"Great, we'll wing it. I'm glad that's all settled," Christopher said as they made their way outside. "I can visit the Library, I suppose, and can get some information on these guys. Maybe we'll get lucky and it turns out they’re next on my hunting list."
"Um, guys? Where did that cop go?" Eris asked.
"Which cop?" Hamlin asked.
"The one that is supposed to be guarding the crime scene. Williams, I think,"
They looked up and down the sidewalk, the patrolman was gone. In fact, the whole street was deserted. Something was not right.
With a sickening thump, a body landed right in front of them. It was an almost unrecognizable mass of dark blue and crimson red. But the name tag was still visible. It was the patrolman Williams, or what was left of him.
"Ah, fuck me," said Christopher just before a large hand from above sunk its claws into his chest and yanked him into the air.
CHAPTER FOUR
Christopher felt the claws sinking into his skin as he was wrenched off the ground. The sudden pain stunned him. It felt as if a series of hooks had just been threaded through the skin on his chest. He thought the skin might tear away, but the barbed claws had dug into the muscle, he had no choice but to go where they lifted him.
A creature covered in a mixture of black fur and leathery skin clung to the wall of the building just above the door they had exited. It was huge, maybe half again Christopher's size. Its mouth was a muzzle, lips pulled back to reveal two inch teeth. It pulled him close, its claw twisting into Christopher as it pulled them together. So close, he could see the slick saliva mixed with fresh blood dripping from its massive mouth. A deep, rumbling growl emerged from the creature as it brought them almost nose to nose.
"This is the great Hunter? The one they fear so much?" the creature said. "Ha! I smell your fear."
Christopher was frantically trying to get at the Weapon in his pocket, but being held in the air at such an awkward angle was making it difficult.
Below him he could make out both Hamlin and Eris yelling. Hamlin had his gun out and was moving, Christopher thought, to find a good angle to shoot the thing without hitting him. Not that the bullets would have hurt him for long, but Christopher supposed that old habits die hard.
His hand found the pocket knife. Success!
Then the creature heaved, and Christopher was flying backwards through the air. For a moment he was weightless, then he slammed into the building across the street, sending brick and mortar raining to the ground. Pain exploded throughout his whole body. He felt his ribs and other bones break at the impact. The power inside of him raged through his body, repairing the damage, but not fast enough.
As Christopher slid down the building, he saw the creature leap directly at him from the wall across the street, ignoring the gun fire from Hamlin.
Christopher hit the ground with a painful thud, his head smacking the concrete, and for a moment he blacked out.
When he came to, the creature loomed over him, clawed hands extended at his side, flexing in anticipation. Red, bestial eyes, looked down at him. He looked, Christopher thought, like a werewolf. But instead of a man, he was half wolf and half gorilla.
"I will consume your soul," it growled.
Christopher knew it was now or never. Grimacing at the pain, he rolled to his feet and staggered a little, pain flooding through him as his injuries cried out in protest at the movement. He ignored it and pulled the Weapon from his pocket. Instantly, almost with glee, it sprang to life as a sword, engulfed in red and black flames of power.
The creature, now wary, stepped back at the flare of power from the Weapon. Christopher struck out with the sword. The creature moved fast, faster than Christopher with his Hell power-enhanced speed. But the blade nicked it on its arm, not enough to take its soul, but enough to get a taste.
The creature roared in pain and the weapon grew brighter in joy. Christopher could feel the power radiating through his whole body, making him thrum like the tight strings of a guitar. He could feel it crawling through every cell in his body, and he loved it. His injuries healed quickly, broken bones mended, knitting back together. It made him feel like the most powerful being in the world. And perhaps he was.
He attacked the creature once again swinging the sword in front of him, letting it guide his hand. He wanted to surrender to it completely, but the knowledge of what had happened last time kept him from fully embracing its chaos. He chose instead to channel the power, driving into the monster.
The creature dodged back, but then moved forward again with sudden speed. It was a blur as Christopher swung again. It caught his arm. For a moment they both froze, Christopher in disbelief and the creature in triumph. Then it threw him down the street.
He spun through the air before crashing into a parked car, shattering the windshield and leaving a man sized dent in the hood. The Weapon flew from his hands at the impact and skidded across the asphalt, transforming back to its simple pocket knife form.
Images swam in front of Christopher as his vision tried to focus. He was stunned, unable to think straight. This thing was fast and powerful, nothing like what he had encountered before, where at least his physical abilities were far superior to his opponent's. How was he supposed to fight this thing?
Move! Move! His mind screamed at his body.
He moaned and rolled off the car, trying to put something between him and the monster. He need to buy some time, he needed to think. Unfortunately, the creature was not being cooperative. And then an idea came to him.
He felt the creature land on top of the car. It leaned over and looked down at him.
"You have lost your weapon, Hunter. Now I feed," it rumbled.
The creature grabbed him once again, and on instinct Christopher jumped. He reached into the seed of power inside of him and felt it rushing through his body. He sprang upwards as the creature grabbed empty air. He sped past the windows and cleared the top of the building, landing in a controlled crash on the roof. He quickly scrambled over to the edge and looked down.
The creature looked up at him in surprise, then it looked like its bestial muzzle was smiling. It jumped also, catching onto the side of the building with its huge claws and sending shards of brick and concrete to the ground below. It was running up the building like it was a vertical sidewalk.
So much for buying time.
He jumped to his feet and ran to the other side of the roof. He wondered if his predecessor, the Beast, had ever had to run from an enemy. Probably not, but that’s what you get when you bestow the powers of Hell on a college kid who has no idea what he is doing.
He was halfway to the other side of the building when he heard the creature come over the roof
’s edge. Christopher didn't have to look back to know it was gaining on him. He jumped from the other edge and sailed over the street below to land on the other side. Moments after landing he heard the clawed feet of the creature land behind him.
He couldn't outrun it. He had lost the Weapon. This did not look good. He had to improvise.
A metal pipe came up from the roof below near a rooftop access shed. He grabbed it and wrenched with both hands. It screeched in protest, but it was no match for his enhanced strength. The heavy metal bar came away in his hands. He turned to face the creature, holding the bar like a baseball bat.
The creature did not stop its charge, it came right at Christopher with claws extended. He swung at its head. The creature partially blocked the swing with its arm, the force of the blow bending the bar around the limb.
The creature let out a roar of pain and twisted its body, pulling the bar out of Christopher's hand and sending it off the edge of the roof.
So much for that weapon, thought Christopher. But he did notice that the creature’s arm remained at its side. It might have been broken. Take that mother fu...
The creature's free hand shot out, grabbed Christopher by the shoulder and slammed him up against the wall of the shed.
Breathing hard and wounded, holding its massive broken arm close to its side and stomach, it was clearly weakened, but not enough to make much of a difference. It opened its drooling maw, dripping yellowish saliva and blood across Christopher's chest. Then its head shot forward.
Christopher was able to twist his body so that the monster missed his throat, but its teeth sank deep into his shoulder. Pain, far worse than he had experienced before, radiated from the wound. He cried out as the creature started twisting and tearing at the flesh, pulling it from his bones.
Then under the tearing of his flesh he felt something more, something far worse. Something deeper down than the simple severing of flesh and blood. A part of him that was more fundamental, more primal was being pulled out of him. It took him only a moment to realize it was his soul, the energy of his being.
As the creature tore at him, he felt his deepest thoughts and desires, his loves and hates were being taken from him. His darkest fears and greatest triumphs were laid bare. It was as though the core of his existence was being flailed. He began to scream and was not sure he would ever stop. All the energy and that was life to him was being taken, pillaged from him. It was a violation like no other.
The creature swallowed its bite and a part of Christopher was lost.
It opened its mouth wide to take another chomp, and all Christopher could do was watch in terror. The world was fading away from him, like he was tumbling down a black hole of nothing. His vision was failing him, for which he was glad. He hoped he would die before this thing was done eating his essence.
He felt rather than heard a fluttering like large wings above him. The creature paused and looked up, roaring in anger that its meal was being disturbed. Christopher followed its gaze, but all he saw was a large black blur with two fiery red dots come directly at him before he felt what could only be talons digging into his shoulders, both the good and injured one.
He screamed at the pain as he was lifted straight into the air and out of the surprised creature’s grasp. The creature lunged at his feet, but whatever had him swooped away and its jaws missed.
Christopher looked down and saw his feet dangling over the building and streets as his carrier flew him back to where Hamlin and Eris were. That woke him from his world of pain.
He did not want to go back to where they were, that thing would just follow him and kill all of them. He looked up, trying to see what it was that carried him. But all he could see against the night sky were huge, bat-like wings and a mishmash of shadows. Then that too started to blur.
He was fading again, he could feel it. Something was wrong. He was weaker than he should be. The power inside was healing, he could feel it repairing his physical injuries. But there was something else damaged about him now, something that the power of Hell could not help him with.
As he felt his body come back in contact with the ground, he saw Hamlin rushing over, but the image was distant, like he was watching it happening to someone else. He lay on the ground trying to focus as darkness clouded his vision. Hamlin was talking to him, but he couldn't hear a thing.
The last thing he saw before fading into unconsciousness was the stuff of nightmares—a tall, skeletal being with huge-bat like wings sprouting from its back and leathery breast on its chest. Its obscenely long legs and arms were bone-like sticks ending at talons on both hands and feet. Its face was large and angular, smooth and almost feminine, but with a triangular mouth lined with needle sharp teeth. It must have been the thing that carried him.
His last thought as darkness consumed him was that it looked exactly what he imagined a demon would look like.
CHAPTER FIVE
Anabelle looked down from the rooftop at the surprise below. Who would have thought he'd have a demon sidekick. Maybe he was coming into his power faster than we expected, she thought.
That small girl had transformed before her eyes into the winged monstrosity below. When she first appeared Anabelle had a moment of panic, as memory of her time below surfaced. Even now, gazing on the demon sent a shiver up her spine and awoke memories of pain and suffering. She would not go back.
The demon had just dropped the Hunter of Souls on the ground below. He looked unconscious. Her pet was only moments away, she could see him across the other rooftop. Now would be the moment to strike.
She staggered suddenly and caught herself on a nearby wall. She was weak. It was taking too much out of her to keep the mortals on this street from looking out of their windows. She had to constantly reinforce the suggestion that they stay in front of their TVs, or finish fixing their late night snacks, or start a heated argument with their significant other.
Maintaining the suggestion, even such a slight one, over such a large group of mortals was draining. And if the battle spilled over to another street again, there was no way she could keep up the illusion. She needed to end this, if the mortals saw what transpired it might upset certain members of her... family…and she did not want that at the moment. There was too much at stake.
Ammit landed in the street below her and started stalking towards the unconscious Hunter. The demon stood in his path. He could kill her, but not quickly enough. The mortal pulled out a gun and shot at him. He ignored it, bullets and the little pain they brought would mean nothing to him
She staggered again, suddenly very dizzy, and she could feel the power draining from her, her beauty was dimming. She needed to rest and recharge.
She reached out to Ammit.
Ammit, stop. Return to me.
Why my mistress? We have them. I want the rest of his soul.
Now is not the time. I cannot shield you from mortals any longer.
Then let them see, let them see what is coming for them. Ammit thought back at her and started walking once again toward the demon glaring at him.
No! The thought slammed into him almost physically. He stopped as though a leash had been pulled. You are ignorant and have no idea the consequences. We accomplished our goal to test them. Now, do as I say and return to me.
He turned and looked up at her. For a moment she could see the anger, the malice in his eyes. Then it was gone. He was no fool she thought, though he needs a shorter leash.
Then with a roar he sprang to the building she was on and climbed up to join her on the roof. She released the hold she had on the mortals up and down the street. She collapsed, but Ammit was there to catch her. She hoped the demon would assume a mortal form quickly, but she was too weak to do anything about it. They were on their own for now. But next time she would kill the Hunter. And with that triumph she could usurp Golyat’s position and assume control of the new Alliance.
CHAPTER SIX
Consciousness came to Christopher in a series of unconnected scenes. A
flash of him being dragged and carried to a car and laid none too gently in the back. Then darkness until a vision of the ceiling of his home scrolling past. He was being carried, awkwardly, by two people. Hamlin's face swam into view above his. He thought Hamlin said something, but before Christopher could ask him what he had said everything went black again. He woke again, fading back to consciousness. The room where he lay—he thought it was his—was dark. A single lamp, set low, illuminated Eris' face. She was dozing in a chair next to him. And again he faded.
When he woke the next time, he was able to hold onto consciousness. He was in his room, he was sure now. Late afternoon sun filtered in through the window and sheer curtains. His whole body ached, but the healing had happened, his bones were whole once again and he didn't feel any cuts or major injuries. The power of Hell comes through again. But he still ached like his body was one giant bruise. Usually his supernatural healing left him feeling much better.
He realized he wasn't wearing his street clothes under his blankets. Somebody had undressed him and put him in his pajamas. And he was pretty sure that person wasn't Hamlin.
Eris sat by the side of the bed, looking at him anxiously. The skeletal creature flashed through his mind, and suddenly he remembered the battle and the creature that moved so fast, faster than him and had such strength. He remembered its bite, tearing more than just his flesh. He shuddered as he remembered how it had shrugged off his attacks. He had been no match for it, even with the Weapon and the Hell power inside of him. He also remembered the thing that had swooped down and plucked him out of the grasp of the creature, long talons cutting into his shoulders and carrying him to safety.
"It was you," Christopher said. "The thing that grabbed me and took me to safety."
She shook her head slightly. "It was her. The one inside me, Dark Eris. At least I assume."
"Assume?"
"I don't always remember when she takes control, and I think it’s the same for her. Sometimes we are aware of what the other is doing. For me it’s like memories, but sometimes they are too faded or obscure, so I can only make guesses as to what happened."
