It looked exactly how it did in my vision. I could only look into its black beady eyes in pure horror. It...smiled.
I screamed for the second time in under five minutes.
The thing cackled.
It was a demon, I realized. It was a frigging demon. How the hell do you kill a demon that was sent from hell? One way to find out.
I pushed off from the door and was on my feet. The demon was still staring at me, smiling, but cautiously now.
I flicked my arm and the knife was out in mid air. I snatched it and did the same with the other one.
Now I had two fourteen inch silver knives(not counting the handles)in each hand.
I motioned for the thing to get me. I was supposed to kill it after all, right?
“Come to daddy, you ugly bastard.”
I assumed it understood me.
It roared, which was horrifying, and charged. I reached around my waist and grabbed a throwing knife. I hurled it at the demon with a trained hand, then I charged on after it.
The knife struck it in the head, but it kept coming. I bunched my legs and vaulted myself over the thing's head. By now, I had my other smaller gun out and I unloaded three rounds into its back in mid air. I landed on the other side and ran.
Let me tell you a few reasons why I took this cowardly approach: First, I didn't have my big gun on me, I dropped it. Second, I was not expecting a fight and I had been caught unawares. Third, there was a team of Vampire Hunters coming, they would cover me while I recovered and got another gun.
I rounded the corner and sprinted into the living room. I heard a loud sighing behind me and my instincts told me to duck. I did.
Heat rolled over my head and I saw a plume of fire slam into the couch not a yard away from me. I rolled to the right as I heard another fire blast, it hit where I was only a moment before.
I kicked off the ground and hurled myself over a brown leather love seat. Fire consumed that little hideout as well. But, I didn't worry about that because I was already on my way to the kitchen.
I slipped on that damn blood again. I went sliding right into the refrigerator. My head connected with the door with a loud crack. I went down, and not a moment too soon. A column of fire enveloped the fridge. I craned my neck to look up at the beast. It was standing in the open doorway, mouth open wide and fire about to spit out from it at me. I rolled to the left and only my left arm caught a lick of fire.
As I was rolling, I put both hands on my gun and rolled to my stomach, gun and arms outstretched, aiming for the beast. I unloaded the entire clip into its hideous body. I continued my roll until I got to the foyer, with the thing screeching in the kitchen the entire way. I got to my knees and pushed off the floor, going for the door. My Hunter friends choose that moment to arrive.
The door connected with my head, banged it against the wall. I fell backward onto my butt, muttering a stream of curses as my vision returned to normal.
“That'll hurt like a bitch in the morning,” I muttered.
“We heard gunfire!” One of the Hunters said, helping me up.
“The kitchen,” I said, pointing. Let it be their problem. The five of them ran into the kitchen, guns outstretched.
“There's nothing here, Blayton,” one of them called out.
“What? Check the house!” I said.
They began to move through the house.
“Holy—what the hell is that?”
Hearing these cries of surprise, I ran for the front door and to my car. Opening the trunk, I pulled out my shotgun. It was already loaded.
I ran around to the back of the house and caught a glimpse of the thing. I pumped the gun and let out a spray of pellets at the thing. It screeched and jumped into the air.
“Damn,” I said.
The other Hunters came out of the house. “What was that thing?” one of the ones called John asked, looking at the sky.
“I'm hunting it...a private assignment,” I told them, knowing there wouldn't be a way to hide how I had been in this house at the right moment to catch a creature like that unawares.
“A private assignment?” John asked.
“Yes. Private.” And that was that. I continued on: “There's a body in the master bedroom. Get my gun and my jacket, will you?”
The five of them looked at each other, then nodded. I waited at a window in front of the master bedroom.
The window opened and one of the men leaned out, face green, taking deep breaths. He looked at me and tossed my stuff out to me. I caught it in midair and called to John that I was leaving. He couldn't stop me if he wanted to. I needed to follow the demon while the trail was still hot.
I ran to my car and tossed my stuff in it, then I followed them in and started the car. I threw it into reverse and pulled out of the driveway, then I sped down the road.
I looked in the sky, but I didn't see anything.
Crap. It was gone for the time being; but I'd get it back. One way or another, I'd find it. Or it'd find me. As I later discovered, it was very good at finding people.
Feeling I hadn't done a full day's work, I went back to the house where the Hunters were still cleaning up the mess.
The reason I didn't call the ambulance is because I knew they wouldn't be able to handle the preternatural and supernatural stuff. Also, the rest of the world should be left in the dark for a while longer before we decide to call the police into a murder involving demons.
Demons were a rare sight to behold these days. Very few can pass over from the spiritual world into the physical, and those that can are very powerful. Or, witches and warlocks can summon demons to do their own special biddings, where the creatures like it or not. And usually, the witch or warlock can control the demon they summoned, but apparently this one was following its own rules.
Now, there are few ways to kill demons. Steel swords and knives, pure steel. Anything holy, crucifix, cross, holy water, or the Old Testament in the Bible, specifically the Torah. Many of these holy things also work with vamps, and I carry them all with me. Except the steel weapons. I hunt vampires. Not demons. Except this once, and it was high time to get prepared from an all out supernatural battle that I probably couldn't win. Probably.
I walked through the front door and met up with John. He looked surprised to see me. “You're back.”
I nodded. “I thought I could catch up with it, but it was too fast. So I came back to see if I can read anything about where it might be going next.” I neglected to mention that I knew it' hideout and that I'd be visiting it later.
John nodded. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
I thought for a moment, then surprised myself when my head bobbed up and down. “Yeah, I could use some steel weapons.”
John grinned. “You know, most vamp Hunters specialize in other preternatural and supernatural targets. I think you'd be a good candidate for both.”
I thought about that for one sec, then told him I'd think about it later. Maybe I would go into more than one hunting profession.
“The steel?” I asked.
John made an O with his mouth and said, “I actually have a short sword and a few knives in the back of my trunk.”
That bewildered me. I didn't actually expect him to have the weapons with him. John hunted werewolves and other Weres only. Why n earth did he have steel weapons? I voiced these musings.
John chuckled and led me outside.
“I may specialize in Were renegades, but I'm always prepared for anything.” My respect for John bumped up a few points. I should learn from him.
I opened the trunk to his red Ford Explorer and pulled out a sheathed sword around two feet and a couple inches counting the handle, single edged, and a pure steel color kinda grayish silver. The tip came up to a deadly sharp point. There was just enough room to have a two handed grip on the black fabric-covered handle. Other than that triangle looking tip, the sword was very straight.
John then pulled out three steel knives, each about as long as my entire hand. It's kind of hard to describe them, but they were very slender, with a point so razor sharp, that I thought It'd cut me just by looking at it. The only place where I could hold it to throw was the bottom of the thing, also steel, with just enough room for two curled fingers to grip it without cutting. I realized that the knife was so thin and slender that it was meant to go completely through the object in which the wielder was throwing the knives.
My eyes had widened and John was grinning like a fool.
I quickly grabbed up the four weapons in my arms and John closed his trunk. “Thanks,” I muttered, walking away.
I was very disturbed of the events of today, as any red blooded human would be, but the attack wasn't what bothered me. It was the time of day, and the nature of it.
Now, there's not really anywhere that says a demon can come out only in the night, but it just seemed...right. That theory was proven wring, if there was one.
And why had the creature attacked and killed that person? Was it a burglar, trying to see what he could swipe from the dead man's house? No, no burglar was stupid enough to rob a house that had police line over the front door. Then who else could it be? Blackford did mention something about another Hunter he'd hired. Could that body have been the poor soul? But the kill seemed so recent, and Blackford had said the man hadn't reported back to him in three days time.
Another thought occurred to my mind. Maybe it wasn't the Hunter, but it was someone with authority to be in the house. The police tape hadn't been ripped, and there was nothing that looked like a forced entry. I would have noticed if the door was unlocked surely, and maybe the person went through a back door?
If that was so, when did the murder happen?
Another thought bust into my mind. The kill had to have been recent, if it had been there for days, it would have begun to smell. But why would the demon stick around?
These were way too many questions that I didn't have answers to. And I don't like being left in the dark.
I got to my small Mazda and put the extra weapons in the back seat. Then I rolled out of the driveway.
I was half-way down the streets when the biggest question of all entered my tired mind.
I had shot the thing a number of times with my extra gun. Someone would have heard the shots and called the cops.
For the third time that day, I cam rushing down the street and stopped in the driveway. I jumped out of the car, and ran to the five Hunters.
“What is this? The second time you're back? What's up?” John said.
“I fired off a clip inside that house. The neighbors would have heard the shots and called the police, don't you think?”
John stepped back and froze. “What are you saying?”
“That the body I stumbled upon may not be the only dead body on quiet Milford St.”
The other Hunters started moving. I went with John to the next door neighbor's house on the left, while two more went on the left, and the last one went across the street.
John rapped on the door. We waited a full two minutes.
No answer, no sound of feet shuffling to the door, no “who is it?” Nothing.
John kicked the door in, gun drawn.
“That was idiotic,” I observed. “What if they're just sleeping?”
“I'll take my chances.”
We went down the long hall the led away from the door. On the left was the living room, which gave way to an open arched kitchen, then a second door let me know we had reached the bathroom. At the end of the hall, there was a small stretch of openness that had a high ceiling, then a short stairway that led to the second floor.
John went up, gun extended. I didn't bother with mine. The thing was gone, right? It flew away like a bird when it hears a dog bark.
We went down a short hall with three bedrooms, two on the right and one on the left.
Then I smelled blood, sweat, and bowels.
I opened the first door. Nothing. Just a tacky guest bedroom that looked like all guest bedrooms. The next one was a large bathroom.
We turned to the door on the left.
“This is the strangest house I've ever been in,” John commented almost nonchalantly.
“This is New York,” I said and opened the door.