Archive: How to Fight an Apocolypse (an SPN RP) pt2
background can be found here this is the actual RP pregression b/t me and Mac....
It was raining. Not a small drizzle or a comfortable shower, but a full out, hurricane induced thunderstorm. Sarah hated the cliches and everything about this hunt was turning into one big cliche. Thunder boomed and rocked the house as the lights above flickered. Sarah froze and carefully exhaled. There was no drop in temperature. She has no idea what possessed her to take this hunt the first place other than little Haylie McKern sang to her heart. Savannah was not the best place to hunt. It was not termed America's most huanted city for nothing. Granted most of the ghosts were only powerless echos and had been around for so long, they weren't worth the effort. Besides, if any hunter worth their salt tried to purify Savannah, they'd have to burn down half the city. Little Haylie was the newest addition in a town full of ghosts. But unlike her neighbors, she was neither powerless nor an echo. Sarah was half tempted to let little Haylie carry on. Anyone sick enough to abduct a little girl, beat her, rape her, and then kill her deserved what they got, but Haylie had started going after innocent men, and that she couldn't let slide. Not that Haylie's body had ever been found, but all the victims had been found beatened and castrated, which led to some obvious conclusions. Who knew a eight year old girl could be so malicious?
The floor boards creaked as she silently swept the house. It was an old Victorian manson that had survived Sherman's march to Sea. The house wasn't overly large, but had a number of narrow servant passages holding echos of the slaves who once used them. Sarah had done a methodolical sweep, starting with the attic and finding a completely different little girl to the one she had been looking for. Sarah knew next to nothing about the girl in the attic, but it was clear she hadn't been disturbed in a long time. Sarah had did a quick visual sweep before slowly backing out and leaving the little girl to play with her dollhouse. It took her a while to sweep every passage and room on every floor, but Sarah prided herself in being thorough. Now she stood in the kitchen pantry above an underground storm celler. There was another door in the front of the house that hid a flight of stair down into an unfinished basement, but all the attcks happened in or around the pantry so Sarah decided to check here first. Regardless of what she found, Sarah would sweep the basement too, just for forms sake. Sarah hitched her bag of tricks more securely over her shoulder and holstered both sawed-off shotgun and torch to get better leverage on the heavy wooden trap door. A rickety old ladder led down into darkened depths. Sarah spared a quick sweep for a light of some sort, but quickly pulled out her torch again. She shined the beam into the murky shadows and saw that the drop wasn't too bad. She'd rather not try the ladder if she could help it. Sarah swung her bag around and pulled out a length of nylon climber's rope and quickly secured one end to a rack of metal shelves that stood against the wall. Then she dropped the rest of the rope down the hatch before securing her bag and following it down, torch at the ready. A quick sweep of the small room revealed nothing. A second, more thorough sweep showed signs of freshly turned earth. It had been two months since little Haylie's disappearance, but the grave had been undisturbed in that little time.
Sarah's torchlight flickered and she exhaled into a suddenly cold room. "Haylie?" Sarah asked, her husky voice calm and soft. "It's alright sweetheart. I'm here to take you home." The image of a little girl, bloody and bruised, flickered in front of her. Sarah sucked in a noisy breath. "Oh sweetheart." Her heart sang to the little girl. The celler grew even colder as Sarah tried to step closer. She quickly retreated. "It's alright sweetheart. The bad man is gone." Haylie flickered at the word "sweetheart" and Sarah quickly put two and two together. "I'm sorry honey. I didn't mean to sound like the bad man." The room grew slightly warmer. Sarah tried to approach Haylie again, this time with success. She knelt down in front of the little girl. "Are you ready to go home?" Haylie nodded and Sarah pulled out a collapsable shovel from her bag. She cautiosly began to dig, but Haylie didn't try to stop her. Halleliuya for small mercies. She doubt if she were a man, Haylie would be so cooperative. It didn't take her long to uncover Haylie's remains. The bastard had dug a shallow grave. Sarah collapsed her shovel and traded it in the depths of her bag for salt. Haylie watched sollumly from the corner as Sarah first salted her remains then repeated the process with lighter fluid. Sarah pulled out her lighter, an old beat up zeppo she had bummed off Rufus before they had parted ways. That was when Haylie decided to fight back. Sarah cursed as understanding dawned on the little girl. "C'mon Haylie, honey, I'm gonna take you home," she tried to reason, but Haylie wouldn't hear it. Haylie pinned her back. It could have been more forceful, but so far the girl was being gentle. No doubt still confused why the nice lady would try to hurt her. It was Sarah's saving grace. She flicked the zeppo on and tossed it toward Haylie's body. Sarah had been liberal with the lighter fluid, experience telling her to spill a good bit around the body as well as on it. Sarah slumped to the ground as Haylie burned away. "Sorry baby. Be in peace now," she whispered as she watched the fire burn itself out. Sarah pulled out her shovel again and raked through the ashes. Once she was satisfied there was nothing left, she climbed the rope back to the ground floor and closed the celler door. Sarah took a moment to compose herself before snapping back into her hunter mindframe. She hated cases involving children, but they couldn't be helped. She still had a basement to sweep, but once she was done, she planned to crawl into her '82 Ford Mustang and hightail it out of there. the sooner she could put Savannah in her rear-view, the better.
--
« So, what does that tell you? »
Aaden threw a quick glance at the scrawny man who spoke, then put his attention back on the room in the middle of which they were both standing. The old living room was dimly lit by the beam of their flashlights, yet the chaos was clearly visible: furniture toppled over, broken glass shards and papers scattered around, various objects broken on the floor, shredded curtains, a few dents in the plaster of the walls… Plus empty cartridges, blood splatters on numerous surfaces and markers indicating where, hours ago the owner of the house found a decapitated body.
Somebody killed a vampire in here before it could attack the family living in this old and small Victorian house. But, unlike what he first thought while taking a look at the mangled body at the morgue, the creature wasn’t the only one who suffered during the fight: the hunter took quite a beating before he could slay the blood sucker. So the man Aaden was investigating on was not a sadistic hunter; he was only either inexperienced or very unlucky.
-Quite a lot…” the Shifter sighed, his trained eyes still on the crime scene that spoke or a hell of a fight.
- You’re not planning on telling me either, uh?”
- Nope”
- Heh! Like a magician; you just don’t reveal your little secrets!”
The former policeman ignored the scrawny man’s last comment. The guy was maybe a good contact for hunters passing through the county, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t annoying when he was looking for gossips to spread.
- You know who was hunting in town?” Aaden asked, frowning
- Nah, sorry; I got no name, no nothing… probably an amateur…” the man huffed loudly”You’ still looking for whoever stole your silver stake?”
The Shapeshifter immediately remembered the lie he uses to tell people whenever they start wondering why a hunter would investigate on a fellow hunter. The truth would only cause him troubles anyway.
-Yeah, I still haven’t found him… but I’ll get him eventually.” Aaden answered vaguely, took a deep breath then spoke again while pointing at a bloodied couch before them: ”The nameless Vampire Killer, I hope for him he went straight to the hospital once he was done cutting head here: the damn thing probably hit an arteries, telling by the splatters.”
The smaller man raised an eyebrow, a little surprised and impressed:
- Oh, wow!... I’ll make sure one of us will look for him… So you really are a P.I.?”
-That’s what my license says”
- You have the office and all?”
-I don’t stay in one place long enough… You have any lead for me?” Aaden asked, taking out of a pocket of his leather coat a few twenty dollar bills, holding the money up between two fingers so the informant would take them.
The smaller man greedily pocketed the payment before answering with a shrug:
- McCready, you know the S.O.B. who stole a hunt from the old Kenneth and ended up killing a girl?”
-Yeah?”Aaden answered grimly, knowing right away he’d have a field day listing the hunter’s other reckless acts. Some of those being crimes the Shifter intended to make sure he will do time in federal jail for.
- Well last week he got in a fight with some huge Amazone-like huntress, the word is he robbed her weapon cache and took pretty valuable stuff. If you are looking for a bastard and a robber, you might want to ask him a few questions. ”
-Any word where he might be now?”
-It’s a few hours away, westward… I don’t have the exact location right now, but you just take the highway and I’ll text them to you the moment I’m home.”
-I’d appreciate that.”
Aaden nodded politely, already turning his back to the other man and making his way toward the door.
-Hey, you know: if you’re looking for a job, mister private eye, there’s this chick I really need to….”
-There’s a restraining order against you, I’m not spying on her on your behalf.” Aaden sardonically interrupted the human
-What?! No no no, it’s not what you think!”
The smaller man protested, but in vain since the Shifter was already at the door and not listening anymore. After all, he did had a long road ahead, but mostly the hard task of getting a corrupted hunter arrested before he could hurt more people
--
Sarah checked her rear-view as she took the I-64 turn-off just outside of Lexington. It'd be another five and half hours before she hit St. Louis, and then another half hour South to Waterloo. She'd heard wind of that creeper McCready circling that area. Without an active hunt, Sarah finally had the time to beat that bastard for grabbing her kit and leaving her high and dry in the middle of a hunt. Not that she had been left completely defenseless. Rufus had taught her early on not to rely on any extra ammo she brought. Most things would be able to separate her from her kit before she'd be able to open it, let alone grab anything inside. Sarah would've written the whole thing off, except there had been a dagger of some sentimental value in that particular bag she wanted back. Plus McCready's desertion had almost cost her her life. As it was, Sarah now had one hell of a wicked scar bisecting from her left shoulder, wrapping around her back, and ending just above her right hip. The damn deamon knew how to use a whip, and Sarah would wear the proof of that the rest of her life.
She'd found out from a mutual acquaintance that McCready was just outside of Lexington, but by the time she had gotten into town, he'd already passed through. Finding out where he was heading next had been difficult but not impossible. But the bastard still had a two day start. The rumour had been that he was heading west toward St. Louis, but after that shifter debacle with the Winchesters a few years back, St. Louis had become a dead zone for hunts. It seemed like anywhere the Winchesters went, the monsters fled. Sarah mussed on that thought a bit before shaking her head and concentrating back on McCready. If she could get a solid bead on the Waterloo angle, she could easily cut that last half hour by bypassing St. Louis completely. Her phone beeped and Sarah rooted around the detritus littering her passenger seat for the damn thing. She flipped the damn thing open and glanced at the screen. McCready spotted in Blytheville, heading toward Memphis. Sarah pulled over and pulled out the large road map she carried in her glove box. She was just outside Shelbyville. Another twenty miles and she could cut south on the I-65 into Nashville and then the I-40 to Memphis. She'd be able to make the trip in six hours if the roads stayed clear. Once she got to Memphis, it wouldn't be hard to find where the hunt was. And there was no doubt McCready was on a hunt, not with the way he'd been driving in a circle of the South. Sarah folded up her map and crammed it back into the glove box. The rat-bastard was not getting away from her. Sarah smiled fondly as she pulled back on the road. Rufus never called her a bloodhound for nothing. Sarah always got her hunt.
--
Colombus was a dead-end and Aaden felt very tempted, for the few hours he remained in town, to simply drive the three hours back to his informant and knock lose a few of his lying weasel teeth. He managed to call a judge in Altoona and tell them about how one of their former convicts broke his restraining orders and tried harassing one of his victims by hiring a private eye, yet the satisfaction of sending a creeper into trouble didn’t quite lessen his frustration.
The Shifter had to make a few calls and to promise favors after favors, but he was finally able to get way more accurate intel on the whereabouts of this brutal and obnoxious hunter he heard about. Although he wasn’t sure it was good news or not: it will be a rural hunt, deep in the woods, through small towns of less than a thousand human souls. The Shifter did live by himself in the forest for a long time and would still return to it quite often after being adopted so he wasn’t afraid of what could hide in those. However, investigating in small towns was always quite a pain since the inhabits tend to distrust any strangers and avoid talking to them for many reasons.
Even when he’ll put on his most charming smile and manners, his accent will make him appear right away like some smug Yankee going for a safari in the deep southern territories... at least for some. And although Aaden was quite talented with mimicking accents to blend in -part of his Shapeshifter abilities or so he believed- many little details only locals know about could ruin it all in a matter of seconds.
“Hickory Flat…”
Aaden carefully read on the wooden panel at the entrance to the town that greeted travelers.
“I’ve seen more exciting names” He commented to himself with a snarky smile on his lips while taking a quick look at the GPS screen on his dashboard to memorize a bit more the layout of the area.
At least he had been able to find the place, quite a feat he took guilty pleasure in thinking.
The lead came from a friend of an old barman who heard his elder mention the name of McCready, a flat and something located where the Interstate 22 East met the “178”. The former policeman easily pinpointed a small town that seemed to coincide very well with those hints, and quickly made his way to the northern counties of Mississippi.
He rented a room in the closest motel around -a 20 minutes ride from there, in an Inn located in New Albany, on Coulter Drive- and tried to find where his prey dwelled, but the rat wasn’t in town. So the imposter then took for a ride the Dodge Ram 1500 he borrowed while his good old Camaro 1969 SS was getting fixed somewhere in Indiana -a freak hunting accident- and went looking for the man in Hickory Flat. There were many cabins to rent in the area surrounding the town and just as many half deserted by their rightful owners: McCready could be hidden anywhere.
Since he doubted the town had its own tourist office, the Shifter decided to stop by the clerk office to see if he could get any information on the cabin rental business, no matter what he could find out there.
--
Sarah cursed as she was pinned to the wall again. It seemed she had missed McCready by scant hours, and in turn found the reason why he had left in such a hurry. The black-eyed bitch just laughed as she struggled against her invisible bonds. A trail of fire lanced slowly across her stomach. Sarah gritted her teeth, determined not to give the demon the satisfation for the pain it was causing.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the demon admonished. "Now that's no fun. You hafta make noise. All the best toys makes the funnest noises." It rotated its fingers and Sarah felt her arm twist out of its socket. Try as she might, she couldn't bite back a small yelp of pain. The demon squealed. "Now that's more like it!"
"Go. to. hell," Sarah gritted out past the pain.
The demon just waved her hand in a whatever gesture. "Been there, done that." A malicious grin spread across her face. "This is much more fun." Shards of glass from the window Sarah had been thrown through earlier floated up and around her. Every once in a while a random shard would slash at her. There was no pattern to the maddness, but none of the shards actually touched her. The slashing increased in tempo until the glittering bits of glass danced and swayed around her. Sarah sucked a deep breath and braced for the eventual pain. When the first shards finally made contact, Sarah did something she hadn't done since Rufus took her under his wing: She closed her eyes and prayed. Whole passages of Solomon passerd through her head in Latin. She searched them for the right one, and when she came to it, she mumbled it softly, too softly for the demon to hear her over the flying glass and its own perverse laughter. Sarah repeated the verse, letting power build. When she had enough, she let her voice raise until she all but screamed the last words. The demon cursed violently as it was forced to leave its meatsuit.
Sarah and the glass collapsed to floor at the same time. She took a moment to gather her strength before checking the limp body. Poor girl, the demon had ridden her hard. Then Sarah took a moment to catalogue her own injuries. nothing life threatening, most superficial lacerations. There were a few deep enough to need cleaning and dressing and her shoulder needed to be popped back in. Sarah lifted her arm in place and slammed her shoulder into the wall, popping the joint back into the socket with a small hiss. Then she spared enought time to tend to the deeper cuts before climbing back into her 'Stang and following McCready's trail. He'd had a five hour head start, but from what she had been able to gather before running into Black-eyes, the traitor had been heading south to Missouri. The town, a rural little thing in the middle of a forest, was called Hickory Flat. Sarah consulted her atlas and saw that if she gunned it, she could be there in a little under two hours, two and a half if she had to slow for cops.
--
Aaden John Connor pulled into the small parking lot beside the town clerk office and got off of his truck, subtlety stretching his muscles, sore from remaining seated too long these few last days. Neighboring the Mayor’s office, the building was the closest thing this town had to a decent town hall, and a humble reception desk stood before the entrance in the small wooden hall, as a wall close by was covered with a few flyers advertising locals businesses and touristic attractions in the county -mostly camping grounds and houses or all-terrain vehicles rental. Behind the desk, eying with mild interest the old screen of his computer, a balding middle aged man sat there, probably having the role to both greet newcomers that came by and schedule some more serious appointments for legal matters.
When the light door closed behind the Shifter, the employee threw what seemed to be at first an annoyed glance at the tall figure standing in the doorway, but something quickly changed on his stocky suntanned face. The man was probably expecting a local, or at least someone else than the 6feet2 stranger with a grey flannel shirt, dark used jeans and black leather jacket that stepped casually in. Or so that was what Aaden hoped deep inside him as he flashed the white of his teeth in a friendly smile to the employee at the desk, trying to appear as innocent as possible in this set of clothes he picked expressly so he would merge better with his surroundings.
”Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” The man at the desk asked.
However, the former policeman nearly frowned as he realized something sounded very wrong in the other man’s tone. The human seemed suddenly amused and aggressive, not as a xenophobic mocking a stranger, but as a predator that found an angle on its prey. Aaden really didn’t like the feeling and became immediately wary, yet he kept his friendly look on just in case.
”Nothing much, thanks: I was only looking for a place to get info on real estate around here, but seems like there’s everything I need right on those shelves…”
The Shifter answered with a slight drawl matching the other man’s own, pointing at the flyers with his thumb and picturing in his mind the handgun he was wearing currently under his vest.
”You’re telling me someone like you would simply pass by to look into one of those crappy family house in the middle of nowhere? Come on! Don’t you tell me you haven’t anything funnier to do in such times!” The middle aged man laughed back, slowly standing up with a fiendish smile on his lips.
Aaden instinctively turned slightly his upper body to make himself a smaller target and make sure drawing would be easier, but in his mind he was confused: was he made out? But how? Who was this man and what did he know about him? Could it be the infamous McCready? But then, what the hell was he talking about, and how did he learn… whatever it is he knew about Connor?
”Woah um… What?! Sorry buddy but I have no idea what you’re talking about…” The Shifter tried, still in his role just in case, but was quickly interrupted
”Oh sure you do, and trust me big guy: I’ve seen those pale little eyes of yours flash like stars the moment I saw you! Speaking of which, what do you think of mines?”
Aaden opened wide eyes as the man at the desk changed his eyes from hazel to a pitch black that swiftly took over his whole globes. A demon?!
Yet, before the Shifter could even draw his weapon, he felt a tremendous force push him brutally backward and, as he barely noticed he was flying through the air on half a dozen feet, he went crashing hard on the flyers covered wall pan.
--
Sarah did a quick visual sweep of the sleepy little town of Hickory Flat as she rove through it. A diner, a general store, and a few local businesses littered the main street. The Sheriff's office sat one one end of the street and the Mayor's office and County Clerk's office sat on the opposite end. Sarah pulled her 'stang next to a battered pickup parked outside the Clerk's office. She winced as she stretched her still sore shoulder before getting out of her car. A loud crash had her sweeping the street, but there was nobody. Sarah grabbed her prepacked kit from the back seat and ran into the small office building. A bading middle aged man stood behind a computer desk with his hand outstretched. His eyes were inky black and his smile predatory. Sarah spared a quick glance for the poor guy pinned to the wall before focusing all her attention on the demon.
"Cristo," she threw out. The demon flinched and Sarah smiled. Good, a weak one. "In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, I command you!" Sarah invoked in pure latin. The demon stumbled back and Sarah heard the other guy drop. She pulled out her sawed-off and shot the demon with salt rounds before he could recover. Sarah turned to the other guy only to find him in a defensive crouch and brandishing a gun. Not a civilian then. She threw him her sawed-off which he plucked from the air with ease. "Distract him! That's got another four shots in it." Here's hoping he knows what he's doing. Sarah turned back to the demon without waiting for aknowledgement. She pulled a blessed dirk, a container of salt, and can of quick dry spray paint from her kit before rounding the demon. If the guy did his job, she'd be able to get a devil's trap ready in minutes.
--
The impact took his breath away and pain exploded along his back, although it was replaced in a matter of half a second by a more overwhelming feeling when the back of his head hit the board of the shelves. His vision nearly grayed out entirely as the pain paralyzed him, yet he was quickly overcame when his muddled mind -already trying to cope with so many pain signals at once- realized two things: first, he wasn’t falling to the ground after hitting the wall, and then he still was unable to take a breath and let air flood his lungs. It was as if something was pressing on his chest, squeezing his already abused muscles against the sharp angles of whatever was fixed to the wall, making his ribs scream in protest.
He opened his eyes he didn’t know he had shut in the first place with shock to see he was in the air, pinned to the wall and unable to move. Before him, the demon had his hands outstretched toward him as if performing a magical feat.
So that’s what they do, Aaden though as he clenched his teeth, panic slowly rising as his whole body throbbed with his speeding heartbeat and as his lungs started to starve for oxygen. It was his first time: before this, he only witnessed demons tied up to chairs in the middle of pentagrams as some hunter he was investigating on would torture the creature with spray of Holy Water.
Yet before he could reflect more on the imminent danger he was facing helplessly, he heard a feminine voice shout something across the room before the same newcomer started reciting sentences in Latin. Before he knew, the tremendous pressure that held him against the wall vanished, and he heavily dropped to the floor, barely landing on his feet and avoiding by little collapsing in a heap. Breathing hard, the Shifter woozily stood while using the wall as support, though the sudden bang of a shotgun being shot right beside him triggered his reflexes: he took out his weapon in a smooth precise move and pointed the barrel to where the sound had came from.
A woman, a shotgun in her hands, pointing it at the demon… she wasn’t an enemy, she saved him… Aaden realized his mistake and, before she could notice, pointed his weapon toward the monster instead. A good thing since, a second later, she was throwing a look at him -she was pretty, but no time for this!- before passing him her sawed-off and asking for a distraction.
His back and ribs still throbbed painfully, but his policeman instincts completely took over and pushed away the ache: he agreed without a word, tugged his own gun into the band of his jeans, immediately pumping the shotgun and dashing forward. The Shifter position himself to the right, at about 7 feet from the desk and shot the demon at a closer range just as it was recovering from the first salt pellets.
The demon went crashing into a generic file cabinet behind him, but Connor knew he couldn’t keep on with the same tactic: the huntress was drawing one of those containment pentagrams on the ground. That meant he had to make sure the demon would step into the trap and not simply remain his back against the wall. He had to keep the demon attention on him and nothing more, and the best way was to irate him as much as Aaden could so the anger would blind him.
“Hey pal! I have to admit, you really got me good few minutes ago; I doubt I will be able to sleep on me back tonight. Aaden mocked, acting more like a jerk than he was
”You won’t make it through the day…” The demon growled, standing up and pushing the desk out of his way. The desk slid on a few feet in a scraping sound, showing the possessed being was quite strong physically.
”You’re good! I’m sure you could get the silver medal at the national furniture bullying countest!”
With a raging gesture, the demon telekinetically lifted and threw toward Aaden the computer screen. The former policeman barely avoided it and replied with a shot at the evil creature’s outstretched arm. The thing growled and clutched its arm in pain and the Shifter took the occasion to take a quick look at the mystery woman: she was nearly done with the symbols.
Yet, the moment he put his attention back on the demon, the hellish creature suddenly lunged at him with a fuming hiss.
--
continued here
It was raining. Not a small drizzle or a comfortable shower, but a full out, hurricane induced thunderstorm. Sarah hated the cliches and everything about this hunt was turning into one big cliche. Thunder boomed and rocked the house as the lights above flickered. Sarah froze and carefully exhaled. There was no drop in temperature. She has no idea what possessed her to take this hunt the first place other than little Haylie McKern sang to her heart. Savannah was not the best place to hunt. It was not termed America's most huanted city for nothing. Granted most of the ghosts were only powerless echos and had been around for so long, they weren't worth the effort. Besides, if any hunter worth their salt tried to purify Savannah, they'd have to burn down half the city. Little Haylie was the newest addition in a town full of ghosts. But unlike her neighbors, she was neither powerless nor an echo. Sarah was half tempted to let little Haylie carry on. Anyone sick enough to abduct a little girl, beat her, rape her, and then kill her deserved what they got, but Haylie had started going after innocent men, and that she couldn't let slide. Not that Haylie's body had ever been found, but all the victims had been found beatened and castrated, which led to some obvious conclusions. Who knew a eight year old girl could be so malicious?
The floor boards creaked as she silently swept the house. It was an old Victorian manson that had survived Sherman's march to Sea. The house wasn't overly large, but had a number of narrow servant passages holding echos of the slaves who once used them. Sarah had done a methodolical sweep, starting with the attic and finding a completely different little girl to the one she had been looking for. Sarah knew next to nothing about the girl in the attic, but it was clear she hadn't been disturbed in a long time. Sarah had did a quick visual sweep before slowly backing out and leaving the little girl to play with her dollhouse. It took her a while to sweep every passage and room on every floor, but Sarah prided herself in being thorough. Now she stood in the kitchen pantry above an underground storm celler. There was another door in the front of the house that hid a flight of stair down into an unfinished basement, but all the attcks happened in or around the pantry so Sarah decided to check here first. Regardless of what she found, Sarah would sweep the basement too, just for forms sake. Sarah hitched her bag of tricks more securely over her shoulder and holstered both sawed-off shotgun and torch to get better leverage on the heavy wooden trap door. A rickety old ladder led down into darkened depths. Sarah spared a quick sweep for a light of some sort, but quickly pulled out her torch again. She shined the beam into the murky shadows and saw that the drop wasn't too bad. She'd rather not try the ladder if she could help it. Sarah swung her bag around and pulled out a length of nylon climber's rope and quickly secured one end to a rack of metal shelves that stood against the wall. Then she dropped the rest of the rope down the hatch before securing her bag and following it down, torch at the ready. A quick sweep of the small room revealed nothing. A second, more thorough sweep showed signs of freshly turned earth. It had been two months since little Haylie's disappearance, but the grave had been undisturbed in that little time.
Sarah's torchlight flickered and she exhaled into a suddenly cold room. "Haylie?" Sarah asked, her husky voice calm and soft. "It's alright sweetheart. I'm here to take you home." The image of a little girl, bloody and bruised, flickered in front of her. Sarah sucked in a noisy breath. "Oh sweetheart." Her heart sang to the little girl. The celler grew even colder as Sarah tried to step closer. She quickly retreated. "It's alright sweetheart. The bad man is gone." Haylie flickered at the word "sweetheart" and Sarah quickly put two and two together. "I'm sorry honey. I didn't mean to sound like the bad man." The room grew slightly warmer. Sarah tried to approach Haylie again, this time with success. She knelt down in front of the little girl. "Are you ready to go home?" Haylie nodded and Sarah pulled out a collapsable shovel from her bag. She cautiosly began to dig, but Haylie didn't try to stop her. Halleliuya for small mercies. She doubt if she were a man, Haylie would be so cooperative. It didn't take her long to uncover Haylie's remains. The bastard had dug a shallow grave. Sarah collapsed her shovel and traded it in the depths of her bag for salt. Haylie watched sollumly from the corner as Sarah first salted her remains then repeated the process with lighter fluid. Sarah pulled out her lighter, an old beat up zeppo she had bummed off Rufus before they had parted ways. That was when Haylie decided to fight back. Sarah cursed as understanding dawned on the little girl. "C'mon Haylie, honey, I'm gonna take you home," she tried to reason, but Haylie wouldn't hear it. Haylie pinned her back. It could have been more forceful, but so far the girl was being gentle. No doubt still confused why the nice lady would try to hurt her. It was Sarah's saving grace. She flicked the zeppo on and tossed it toward Haylie's body. Sarah had been liberal with the lighter fluid, experience telling her to spill a good bit around the body as well as on it. Sarah slumped to the ground as Haylie burned away. "Sorry baby. Be in peace now," she whispered as she watched the fire burn itself out. Sarah pulled out her shovel again and raked through the ashes. Once she was satisfied there was nothing left, she climbed the rope back to the ground floor and closed the celler door. Sarah took a moment to compose herself before snapping back into her hunter mindframe. She hated cases involving children, but they couldn't be helped. She still had a basement to sweep, but once she was done, she planned to crawl into her '82 Ford Mustang and hightail it out of there. the sooner she could put Savannah in her rear-view, the better.
--
« So, what does that tell you? »
Aaden threw a quick glance at the scrawny man who spoke, then put his attention back on the room in the middle of which they were both standing. The old living room was dimly lit by the beam of their flashlights, yet the chaos was clearly visible: furniture toppled over, broken glass shards and papers scattered around, various objects broken on the floor, shredded curtains, a few dents in the plaster of the walls… Plus empty cartridges, blood splatters on numerous surfaces and markers indicating where, hours ago the owner of the house found a decapitated body.
Somebody killed a vampire in here before it could attack the family living in this old and small Victorian house. But, unlike what he first thought while taking a look at the mangled body at the morgue, the creature wasn’t the only one who suffered during the fight: the hunter took quite a beating before he could slay the blood sucker. So the man Aaden was investigating on was not a sadistic hunter; he was only either inexperienced or very unlucky.
-Quite a lot…” the Shifter sighed, his trained eyes still on the crime scene that spoke or a hell of a fight.
- You’re not planning on telling me either, uh?”
- Nope”
- Heh! Like a magician; you just don’t reveal your little secrets!”
The former policeman ignored the scrawny man’s last comment. The guy was maybe a good contact for hunters passing through the county, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t annoying when he was looking for gossips to spread.
- You know who was hunting in town?” Aaden asked, frowning
- Nah, sorry; I got no name, no nothing… probably an amateur…” the man huffed loudly”You’ still looking for whoever stole your silver stake?”
The Shapeshifter immediately remembered the lie he uses to tell people whenever they start wondering why a hunter would investigate on a fellow hunter. The truth would only cause him troubles anyway.
-Yeah, I still haven’t found him… but I’ll get him eventually.” Aaden answered vaguely, took a deep breath then spoke again while pointing at a bloodied couch before them: ”The nameless Vampire Killer, I hope for him he went straight to the hospital once he was done cutting head here: the damn thing probably hit an arteries, telling by the splatters.”
The smaller man raised an eyebrow, a little surprised and impressed:
- Oh, wow!... I’ll make sure one of us will look for him… So you really are a P.I.?”
-That’s what my license says”
- You have the office and all?”
-I don’t stay in one place long enough… You have any lead for me?” Aaden asked, taking out of a pocket of his leather coat a few twenty dollar bills, holding the money up between two fingers so the informant would take them.
The smaller man greedily pocketed the payment before answering with a shrug:
- McCready, you know the S.O.B. who stole a hunt from the old Kenneth and ended up killing a girl?”
-Yeah?”Aaden answered grimly, knowing right away he’d have a field day listing the hunter’s other reckless acts. Some of those being crimes the Shifter intended to make sure he will do time in federal jail for.
- Well last week he got in a fight with some huge Amazone-like huntress, the word is he robbed her weapon cache and took pretty valuable stuff. If you are looking for a bastard and a robber, you might want to ask him a few questions. ”
-Any word where he might be now?”
-It’s a few hours away, westward… I don’t have the exact location right now, but you just take the highway and I’ll text them to you the moment I’m home.”
-I’d appreciate that.”
Aaden nodded politely, already turning his back to the other man and making his way toward the door.
-Hey, you know: if you’re looking for a job, mister private eye, there’s this chick I really need to….”
-There’s a restraining order against you, I’m not spying on her on your behalf.” Aaden sardonically interrupted the human
-What?! No no no, it’s not what you think!”
The smaller man protested, but in vain since the Shifter was already at the door and not listening anymore. After all, he did had a long road ahead, but mostly the hard task of getting a corrupted hunter arrested before he could hurt more people
--
Sarah checked her rear-view as she took the I-64 turn-off just outside of Lexington. It'd be another five and half hours before she hit St. Louis, and then another half hour South to Waterloo. She'd heard wind of that creeper McCready circling that area. Without an active hunt, Sarah finally had the time to beat that bastard for grabbing her kit and leaving her high and dry in the middle of a hunt. Not that she had been left completely defenseless. Rufus had taught her early on not to rely on any extra ammo she brought. Most things would be able to separate her from her kit before she'd be able to open it, let alone grab anything inside. Sarah would've written the whole thing off, except there had been a dagger of some sentimental value in that particular bag she wanted back. Plus McCready's desertion had almost cost her her life. As it was, Sarah now had one hell of a wicked scar bisecting from her left shoulder, wrapping around her back, and ending just above her right hip. The damn deamon knew how to use a whip, and Sarah would wear the proof of that the rest of her life.
She'd found out from a mutual acquaintance that McCready was just outside of Lexington, but by the time she had gotten into town, he'd already passed through. Finding out where he was heading next had been difficult but not impossible. But the bastard still had a two day start. The rumour had been that he was heading west toward St. Louis, but after that shifter debacle with the Winchesters a few years back, St. Louis had become a dead zone for hunts. It seemed like anywhere the Winchesters went, the monsters fled. Sarah mussed on that thought a bit before shaking her head and concentrating back on McCready. If she could get a solid bead on the Waterloo angle, she could easily cut that last half hour by bypassing St. Louis completely. Her phone beeped and Sarah rooted around the detritus littering her passenger seat for the damn thing. She flipped the damn thing open and glanced at the screen. McCready spotted in Blytheville, heading toward Memphis. Sarah pulled over and pulled out the large road map she carried in her glove box. She was just outside Shelbyville. Another twenty miles and she could cut south on the I-65 into Nashville and then the I-40 to Memphis. She'd be able to make the trip in six hours if the roads stayed clear. Once she got to Memphis, it wouldn't be hard to find where the hunt was. And there was no doubt McCready was on a hunt, not with the way he'd been driving in a circle of the South. Sarah folded up her map and crammed it back into the glove box. The rat-bastard was not getting away from her. Sarah smiled fondly as she pulled back on the road. Rufus never called her a bloodhound for nothing. Sarah always got her hunt.
--
Colombus was a dead-end and Aaden felt very tempted, for the few hours he remained in town, to simply drive the three hours back to his informant and knock lose a few of his lying weasel teeth. He managed to call a judge in Altoona and tell them about how one of their former convicts broke his restraining orders and tried harassing one of his victims by hiring a private eye, yet the satisfaction of sending a creeper into trouble didn’t quite lessen his frustration.
The Shifter had to make a few calls and to promise favors after favors, but he was finally able to get way more accurate intel on the whereabouts of this brutal and obnoxious hunter he heard about. Although he wasn’t sure it was good news or not: it will be a rural hunt, deep in the woods, through small towns of less than a thousand human souls. The Shifter did live by himself in the forest for a long time and would still return to it quite often after being adopted so he wasn’t afraid of what could hide in those. However, investigating in small towns was always quite a pain since the inhabits tend to distrust any strangers and avoid talking to them for many reasons.
Even when he’ll put on his most charming smile and manners, his accent will make him appear right away like some smug Yankee going for a safari in the deep southern territories... at least for some. And although Aaden was quite talented with mimicking accents to blend in -part of his Shapeshifter abilities or so he believed- many little details only locals know about could ruin it all in a matter of seconds.
“Hickory Flat…”
Aaden carefully read on the wooden panel at the entrance to the town that greeted travelers.
“I’ve seen more exciting names” He commented to himself with a snarky smile on his lips while taking a quick look at the GPS screen on his dashboard to memorize a bit more the layout of the area.
At least he had been able to find the place, quite a feat he took guilty pleasure in thinking.
The lead came from a friend of an old barman who heard his elder mention the name of McCready, a flat and something located where the Interstate 22 East met the “178”. The former policeman easily pinpointed a small town that seemed to coincide very well with those hints, and quickly made his way to the northern counties of Mississippi.
He rented a room in the closest motel around -a 20 minutes ride from there, in an Inn located in New Albany, on Coulter Drive- and tried to find where his prey dwelled, but the rat wasn’t in town. So the imposter then took for a ride the Dodge Ram 1500 he borrowed while his good old Camaro 1969 SS was getting fixed somewhere in Indiana -a freak hunting accident- and went looking for the man in Hickory Flat. There were many cabins to rent in the area surrounding the town and just as many half deserted by their rightful owners: McCready could be hidden anywhere.
Since he doubted the town had its own tourist office, the Shifter decided to stop by the clerk office to see if he could get any information on the cabin rental business, no matter what he could find out there.
--
Sarah cursed as she was pinned to the wall again. It seemed she had missed McCready by scant hours, and in turn found the reason why he had left in such a hurry. The black-eyed bitch just laughed as she struggled against her invisible bonds. A trail of fire lanced slowly across her stomach. Sarah gritted her teeth, determined not to give the demon the satisfation for the pain it was causing.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the demon admonished. "Now that's no fun. You hafta make noise. All the best toys makes the funnest noises." It rotated its fingers and Sarah felt her arm twist out of its socket. Try as she might, she couldn't bite back a small yelp of pain. The demon squealed. "Now that's more like it!"
"Go. to. hell," Sarah gritted out past the pain.
The demon just waved her hand in a whatever gesture. "Been there, done that." A malicious grin spread across her face. "This is much more fun." Shards of glass from the window Sarah had been thrown through earlier floated up and around her. Every once in a while a random shard would slash at her. There was no pattern to the maddness, but none of the shards actually touched her. The slashing increased in tempo until the glittering bits of glass danced and swayed around her. Sarah sucked a deep breath and braced for the eventual pain. When the first shards finally made contact, Sarah did something she hadn't done since Rufus took her under his wing: She closed her eyes and prayed. Whole passages of Solomon passerd through her head in Latin. She searched them for the right one, and when she came to it, she mumbled it softly, too softly for the demon to hear her over the flying glass and its own perverse laughter. Sarah repeated the verse, letting power build. When she had enough, she let her voice raise until she all but screamed the last words. The demon cursed violently as it was forced to leave its meatsuit.
Sarah and the glass collapsed to floor at the same time. She took a moment to gather her strength before checking the limp body. Poor girl, the demon had ridden her hard. Then Sarah took a moment to catalogue her own injuries. nothing life threatening, most superficial lacerations. There were a few deep enough to need cleaning and dressing and her shoulder needed to be popped back in. Sarah lifted her arm in place and slammed her shoulder into the wall, popping the joint back into the socket with a small hiss. Then she spared enought time to tend to the deeper cuts before climbing back into her 'Stang and following McCready's trail. He'd had a five hour head start, but from what she had been able to gather before running into Black-eyes, the traitor had been heading south to Missouri. The town, a rural little thing in the middle of a forest, was called Hickory Flat. Sarah consulted her atlas and saw that if she gunned it, she could be there in a little under two hours, two and a half if she had to slow for cops.
--
Aaden John Connor pulled into the small parking lot beside the town clerk office and got off of his truck, subtlety stretching his muscles, sore from remaining seated too long these few last days. Neighboring the Mayor’s office, the building was the closest thing this town had to a decent town hall, and a humble reception desk stood before the entrance in the small wooden hall, as a wall close by was covered with a few flyers advertising locals businesses and touristic attractions in the county -mostly camping grounds and houses or all-terrain vehicles rental. Behind the desk, eying with mild interest the old screen of his computer, a balding middle aged man sat there, probably having the role to both greet newcomers that came by and schedule some more serious appointments for legal matters.
When the light door closed behind the Shifter, the employee threw what seemed to be at first an annoyed glance at the tall figure standing in the doorway, but something quickly changed on his stocky suntanned face. The man was probably expecting a local, or at least someone else than the 6feet2 stranger with a grey flannel shirt, dark used jeans and black leather jacket that stepped casually in. Or so that was what Aaden hoped deep inside him as he flashed the white of his teeth in a friendly smile to the employee at the desk, trying to appear as innocent as possible in this set of clothes he picked expressly so he would merge better with his surroundings.
”Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” The man at the desk asked.
However, the former policeman nearly frowned as he realized something sounded very wrong in the other man’s tone. The human seemed suddenly amused and aggressive, not as a xenophobic mocking a stranger, but as a predator that found an angle on its prey. Aaden really didn’t like the feeling and became immediately wary, yet he kept his friendly look on just in case.
”Nothing much, thanks: I was only looking for a place to get info on real estate around here, but seems like there’s everything I need right on those shelves…”
The Shifter answered with a slight drawl matching the other man’s own, pointing at the flyers with his thumb and picturing in his mind the handgun he was wearing currently under his vest.
”You’re telling me someone like you would simply pass by to look into one of those crappy family house in the middle of nowhere? Come on! Don’t you tell me you haven’t anything funnier to do in such times!” The middle aged man laughed back, slowly standing up with a fiendish smile on his lips.
Aaden instinctively turned slightly his upper body to make himself a smaller target and make sure drawing would be easier, but in his mind he was confused: was he made out? But how? Who was this man and what did he know about him? Could it be the infamous McCready? But then, what the hell was he talking about, and how did he learn… whatever it is he knew about Connor?
”Woah um… What?! Sorry buddy but I have no idea what you’re talking about…” The Shifter tried, still in his role just in case, but was quickly interrupted
”Oh sure you do, and trust me big guy: I’ve seen those pale little eyes of yours flash like stars the moment I saw you! Speaking of which, what do you think of mines?”
Aaden opened wide eyes as the man at the desk changed his eyes from hazel to a pitch black that swiftly took over his whole globes. A demon?!
Yet, before the Shifter could even draw his weapon, he felt a tremendous force push him brutally backward and, as he barely noticed he was flying through the air on half a dozen feet, he went crashing hard on the flyers covered wall pan.
--
Sarah did a quick visual sweep of the sleepy little town of Hickory Flat as she rove through it. A diner, a general store, and a few local businesses littered the main street. The Sheriff's office sat one one end of the street and the Mayor's office and County Clerk's office sat on the opposite end. Sarah pulled her 'stang next to a battered pickup parked outside the Clerk's office. She winced as she stretched her still sore shoulder before getting out of her car. A loud crash had her sweeping the street, but there was nobody. Sarah grabbed her prepacked kit from the back seat and ran into the small office building. A bading middle aged man stood behind a computer desk with his hand outstretched. His eyes were inky black and his smile predatory. Sarah spared a quick glance for the poor guy pinned to the wall before focusing all her attention on the demon.
"Cristo," she threw out. The demon flinched and Sarah smiled. Good, a weak one. "In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, I command you!" Sarah invoked in pure latin. The demon stumbled back and Sarah heard the other guy drop. She pulled out her sawed-off and shot the demon with salt rounds before he could recover. Sarah turned to the other guy only to find him in a defensive crouch and brandishing a gun. Not a civilian then. She threw him her sawed-off which he plucked from the air with ease. "Distract him! That's got another four shots in it." Here's hoping he knows what he's doing. Sarah turned back to the demon without waiting for aknowledgement. She pulled a blessed dirk, a container of salt, and can of quick dry spray paint from her kit before rounding the demon. If the guy did his job, she'd be able to get a devil's trap ready in minutes.
--
The impact took his breath away and pain exploded along his back, although it was replaced in a matter of half a second by a more overwhelming feeling when the back of his head hit the board of the shelves. His vision nearly grayed out entirely as the pain paralyzed him, yet he was quickly overcame when his muddled mind -already trying to cope with so many pain signals at once- realized two things: first, he wasn’t falling to the ground after hitting the wall, and then he still was unable to take a breath and let air flood his lungs. It was as if something was pressing on his chest, squeezing his already abused muscles against the sharp angles of whatever was fixed to the wall, making his ribs scream in protest.
He opened his eyes he didn’t know he had shut in the first place with shock to see he was in the air, pinned to the wall and unable to move. Before him, the demon had his hands outstretched toward him as if performing a magical feat.
So that’s what they do, Aaden though as he clenched his teeth, panic slowly rising as his whole body throbbed with his speeding heartbeat and as his lungs started to starve for oxygen. It was his first time: before this, he only witnessed demons tied up to chairs in the middle of pentagrams as some hunter he was investigating on would torture the creature with spray of Holy Water.
Yet before he could reflect more on the imminent danger he was facing helplessly, he heard a feminine voice shout something across the room before the same newcomer started reciting sentences in Latin. Before he knew, the tremendous pressure that held him against the wall vanished, and he heavily dropped to the floor, barely landing on his feet and avoiding by little collapsing in a heap. Breathing hard, the Shifter woozily stood while using the wall as support, though the sudden bang of a shotgun being shot right beside him triggered his reflexes: he took out his weapon in a smooth precise move and pointed the barrel to where the sound had came from.
A woman, a shotgun in her hands, pointing it at the demon… she wasn’t an enemy, she saved him… Aaden realized his mistake and, before she could notice, pointed his weapon toward the monster instead. A good thing since, a second later, she was throwing a look at him -she was pretty, but no time for this!- before passing him her sawed-off and asking for a distraction.
His back and ribs still throbbed painfully, but his policeman instincts completely took over and pushed away the ache: he agreed without a word, tugged his own gun into the band of his jeans, immediately pumping the shotgun and dashing forward. The Shifter position himself to the right, at about 7 feet from the desk and shot the demon at a closer range just as it was recovering from the first salt pellets.
The demon went crashing into a generic file cabinet behind him, but Connor knew he couldn’t keep on with the same tactic: the huntress was drawing one of those containment pentagrams on the ground. That meant he had to make sure the demon would step into the trap and not simply remain his back against the wall. He had to keep the demon attention on him and nothing more, and the best way was to irate him as much as Aaden could so the anger would blind him.
“Hey pal! I have to admit, you really got me good few minutes ago; I doubt I will be able to sleep on me back tonight. Aaden mocked, acting more like a jerk than he was
”You won’t make it through the day…” The demon growled, standing up and pushing the desk out of his way. The desk slid on a few feet in a scraping sound, showing the possessed being was quite strong physically.
”You’re good! I’m sure you could get the silver medal at the national furniture bullying countest!”
With a raging gesture, the demon telekinetically lifted and threw toward Aaden the computer screen. The former policeman barely avoided it and replied with a shot at the evil creature’s outstretched arm. The thing growled and clutched its arm in pain and the Shifter took the occasion to take a quick look at the mystery woman: she was nearly done with the symbols.
Yet, the moment he put his attention back on the demon, the hellish creature suddenly lunged at him with a fuming hiss.
--
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