Demon, Chapter 3
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** DEMON!, Chapter 3**
** By William W. Kelso**
I pulled up to my dark house, and entering did not turn on any lights. I had no need for them. With a hiss of discomfort I took on my true form, it was becoming harder to maintain any human semblance. I looked at mail, and casually shredding most with my claws I threw it away, but one large manila envelope I had been expecting I kept. It contained updated surveillance photos and other information concerning some of my intended targets. I sat down at the kitchen table, folded my wings out of the way, and looked at the photos. Gently I touched the faces of those I had marked for death with a claw, hissing my hatred. They had been among those who had butchered my wife and sister and unborn child; they had taken everything that meant anything from me. That had driven me to sacrifice my humanity for revenge by giving my soul to a demoness, and in doing so becoming a creature of Hell myself. And so far four had died by my hand, well, three actually, one was enjoying life as an insect. According to the information three of the gang members; of the remaining six I intended on paying a visit to, were setting up "shop" in a new suburb. They were in the process of eliminating any competition and taking over the new territory for their gang, another neighborhood which would be destroyed by drugs and violence. But I no longer cared about that, my sole interest was them, and their souls which I would deliver to my Mistress.
The ten vermin, three women and seven men, who had killed my family, were all members of the same powerful gang, financed by drug money. Because of their money and "connections" with the officials and cops they kept on their payroll they got off Scott Free. No punishment, nothing. No one cared about two young women who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was "unfortunate" and "so sad", but "nothing" could be done. It was my despair at that horrible injustice that drove me to do what I did. The only one who tried to help was a former police detective that had resigned after his partner was killed, and again nothing was done. He became a private detective, and had devoted his life to trying to do something about the drug gangs that were turning much of the state into war zones. But it was a losing battle, those with the most money rule, it's always been that way. He had continued to help me after my "change", but didn't know what I had become. As far as he was concerned if the scumbags he located for me went "missing" or dead he pretty much figured it was a plus. He knew I had something to do with it, but didn't ask, and I didn't tell. I decided to call him and see if there were anymore updates, before I went hunting.
I was totally unprepared for what would develop as a result of that call. Instead of Tony his wife answered the phone, and she was almost hysterical. She picked up before the first ring ended, and said,
"Tony, is that you?"
"No, I replied, it's Mr. Brewster, do you know how I can get a hold of Tony?"
Then when she found out who it was, she screamed at me,
"It's your fault you bastard, he was helping you! Now he's gone, and the police say they don't have any clues! Bullshit, they know who took him, they just won't do anything, they're scared to! Damn you, Damn you to Hell!"
*Too late, I thought, I've already done that to myself. Trying to keep from hissing much, or lisping; which is hard do with a snout full of fangs, I told her, *
"Calm down, tell me what happened! What to mean "they" took him, who are "they"?"
"Those damn gang-bangers he was always snooping around after! I know what they did to your loved ones, it was horrible. But now they have him, he said he was going to take one more look, took his camera, and never came home! That was two days ago! The damn cops won't even look for him, say they can't get any search warrants and bullshit like that. Damn you, why couldn't you just let it go, leave them alone!"
*I thought about it for a moment. He'd helped me, but on his own, I'd never been able to pay him much, but had never asked him to do it for free. He did it for his own reasons as much as to help me. But he HAD helped me, and while I could leave him to his fate it would be, dishonorable. A debt was owed. Even the thing I was could understand the obligation to repay that debt. *
"Rosy, I said, do you know where he went, which gang was he watching, what were their colors?"
"I, I, don't know for sure, she sobbed. They found his car over on East Main, but figure it was probably dumped there. But I think it was the South Side Lobos, he said they wore red ballcaps or scarves. Oh God, they've probably killed him!"
I winced as "that" word came over the phone, but replied,
"Rosy, if those are the right colors it's definitely the Lobos, but they're punks, posers and wannabe's. They may have him, but I doubt they'd kill him until they worked up their nerve. I'll, I mean, I know someone who might be able to help. Tell me, do you have something Tony was wearing recently, that hasn't been laundered? Pants, underwear, sweat shirt? Something like that?"
"What, what do you need that for?" Rosy asked.
"My friend uses, has a dog, he uses to track people by their scent. I'll come by and get whatever you have. Will that be OK? Then I'll give it to my friend and he can take a look around for Tony."
"Oh sure, come on by, I haven't washed this week yet. You can have anything you want."
"OK Rosy, be there soon. I'll come by tonight so my, um, friend can get right on the job. It will take me a couple hours to get there, you sure it won't be too late?"
"No, come on, said Rosy, I can't sleep anyway."
*It was about four hours until dawn, so I had time. I'd need to find somewhere to hole up during the day though. Sunlight won't hurt me, but I don't like it, don't like to be revealed in bright light, someone might recognize me for what I am. I'm a creature of the dark anyway, so prefer the cover of night when I go hunting, it feels more natural, safer. I took as close to a human form as I could, got dressed, took a few possibly useful items in an overnight bag, put on my dark glasses (I see at night just fine with or without them), and headed out. The glasses are a must, the one thing demonkind cannot change about their appearance is their eyes, and nothing human ever had eyes like mine. This time of night there was hardly any traffic so I made better time than I had expected. I'd never been to Tony's house before, and it took me a little while to find it. It was a small dumpy little place at the end of a dead end street. The place was well kept, but the neighborhood was lousy. Guess an ex-cop private detective didn't make much. As I pulled up the porch light came on, and I could see a pretty Hispanic woman waiting at the door. I knew her name, but had never met her before. I walked up to the porch, and saw a couple of little kids looking at me from behind her legs. I hadn't known Tony had any kids. I felt mixed feelings looking at them, among them jealousy. I was going to have children once, but that was taken from me along with my wife. They had a little Chihuahua, and the brave little dog stood his ground, but growled at me with his ears laid down flat. When Rosy invited me in I declined, I didn't want her to get too good a look at me. And besides I didn't want to have to hurt the dog if it attacked me, I had no idea how I would respond. *
"Thanks Mrs. Rodriguez, I'll wait out here. Do you have the clothes?"
"Sure you don't want a drink? OK, well then, wait here and I'll get the hamper."
After she left the children stayed behind and stood there staring at me. The little girl asked me,
"Mister, you a cop like my daddy was?"
"No honey, I'm just a...friend who wants to help." I replied.
"Why you wearing sunglasses at night, asked the boy, you got something wrong with your eyes? You blind or something?"
"He's not blind you retard, the girl said, he drove up."
"Oh yeah, said the boy, maybe he's a vampire or something."
Kid, I thought, you don't know how close you are. "Yes, I said, I do have an eye problem of a sort; I don't like light, any light."
"Does it hurt?" the little girl asked.
*"No, not really." I replied. *
"Mister, the girl said, will you help my daddy? Mama is really scared."
"I promise I'll do my best." I replied.
The little girl gave me a tentative smile, then took off a chain and pendant she'd been wearing, and held it out to me, and I recoiled with a hiss. I could feel the power in the pendant, a power deadly to me.
"Get that away for me!" I snarled.
"It's just my St. Christopher's medal Mister, don't you want it? It will protect you."
"Look kid, I, I'm sorry, no. Keep it, I already have one. But thank you." I managed to say, fighting an urge to flee.
"You're weird dude." The little boy said.
*Kid, you have NO idea, I thought. *
About that time Rosy came back and saved the day. "Here's the dirty laundry, I hope it has something you can use."
I poked around inside of it till I found a man's grey t-shirt with "UCLA" on the front and back, it was well worn and sweat stained.
Rosy said, "That's what he wears when he works out, he calls it his lucky shirt. Then she started crying, he loves that stupid shirt, he won't let me throw it away."
*I was embarrassed by her crying, but even the demon in me was a little bit moved in a way. It could understand grieving for a mate. *
"Look, if he's alive my friend and I will find him and bring him home. The shirt is just what we need. We'll do our best."
Rosy managed a smile, and said "Thank you; you're the only ones that give a damn. The fucking cops are useless. Bastardos."
The little girl waved at me as I left, and I waved back. Don't worry kid, I thought, if your father is alive I'll bring him home.
I hurried back to the car, it was getting early and I wanted to find someplace to hole up until the next night. I drove into a rundown industrial district, found an abandoned warehouse, ripped the padlock off of a loading dock door, drove the car in, then secured the doors by bending an iron bar through the latch. No one was going to steal my car. It was junk, but it was MY junk.
I took my clothes off, put them in the trunk, and found a large empty storage room with no windows. I shut the door and squatted down in a corner with my wings wrapped around myself, went to sleep, and had another horrible nightmare. It was the same one over and over. I had to stand and watch my wife and sister being gang raped for hours, but each time it was different in some way. I think I was seeing what had actually happened to them over a period of several days. But at the end two of the gang's female members put plastic bags over their heads until they suffocated while they were still being raped. I woke up to find I had nearly clawed my way through the thick brick wall, the storage room thick with brick dust, and holding my head I screamed as tears of blood dripped from my muzzle. Wasn't what I had done to myself bad enough! What did I have to suffer these horrible nightmares! It wasn't fair! "Luuucccyyyy!" I choked and sobbed, Cathy! I'm sorry, I'm sorry I wasn't there! Please forgive me! And I wailed and wailed; the hurt and pain as new as ever, my loss tearing at me, at the thing I had become.
*Eventually the pain faded, to be replaced by the hatred for their murders, a burning seething hatred, hatred only a creature of Hell could feel, an all invasive hatred that permeated my very being. And calm now, horribly so, I left the storeroom to go hunting, and hopefully save one of the very few friends I had left. If I couldn't save him then I would make his killers wish they'd never been born. Oh yes, they would know what it was like to feel pain, for them there would be no mercy, no redemption, no second chance. And my Mistress was waiting to welcome them to Hell. *
It wasn't quite dark yet, so I waited until the last light faded from the windows. Then under the cover of the friendly darkness I climbed up to the roof through a large ventilation duct, and taking the old t-shirt I took a good long sniff of it, holding it to my snout and rubbing it on my nostrils, chewing on it and tasting it, taking in the male scent and memorizing it, marking his unique blend of pheromones and sweat. Each person is different; it's just like with fingerprints. And bloodhounds have nothing on a Slayer, once we get a scent we never give up. Once marked there is no hiding, no escape. We will, I will, hunt you down no matter how long it takes. We can smell our mark from miles away if the wind is right, and we don't have to be on the ground to track you. I took another long scent, dropped the t-shirt, and sprang into the air. With strong flaps of my large bat like wings I headed out into the "territory" claimed by the gang known as the South Side Lobos. It was my territory now though, I was planning a very hostile takeover. I landed on the top of a building near where the gang had been most active, and began my search. Hopping; or flapping over longer distances, I moved from building to building, sniffing at ventilation ducts and skylights. If anyone heard anything on the roof no one came up to take a look. I did scare an old hippy checking on some Marijuana plants he had hidden on the roof of his apartment complex. I gave a hiss of amusement at the look on his face, and said,
"Hey man, don't you know weed will rot your brain dude? Can you dig it?"
He just did a double take, let out a yell, and disappeared back down the stairs. Maybe I scared him straight, but I doubt it.
I got my first break in an alley behind a local bistro. His scent was faint, but it was definitely his. And I smelled blood too; which worried me, but there was no scent of death. I squatted down in a corner behind an overflowing dumpster and pondered my next move. My best bet was to find some gang members and keep an eye on them, to see where they hung out, where they came and went. I climbed up to the roof of a bistro, and taking off flapped for some altitude, high enough that I wouldn't be seen in the street lights, safe in the cover of the dark. Then, riding updrafts, I slowly circled the area. And found what I wanted. An area of cheap bars and abandoned stores, groups of youngsters hanging out in front of the clubs, professional ladies trolling for Johns, money and drugs changing hands, and young punks in red baseball caps and scarves strutting like they were somebody important. The lowest of the low, those who fed on their fellow human's misery and hopelessness, and thought they were better because they had money. I had decided I needed an "informant", and in return for his "cooperation" I would let him live. I had no real desire to kill for the sake of killing, but I wouldn't hesitate if I thought it was necessary either. And if they had hurt; or killed, my friend, then it was no holds barred.
*I picked a young punk, a kid really, most likely a "prospect" or wanna-be. He had left a group of other "homies" and was talking his time walking down the street, just assuming his gang "uniform" would keep him safe. He was wrong. As he walked past the alley I just reached out and he was gone in a second, no one saw a thing. Only one of his $200.00 tennis shoes remained behind. *
I perched on top of a telephone pole a few blocks away in a nice quiet dark area and dangled him by one ankle. I had carried him easily, clutched to my chest, his screams muffled by my scaly hide. I waited till he finished squealing and tried to catch his breath, then lifting him up higher I snaked my head down on my long neck, and staring him in the face, said,
"Shut up." And I licked his terrified face with my long forked tongue, almost affectionately. His sweat tasted of fear, delicious. He shut up. Good, smart kid.
"A man, I said, your gang took him a few days ago. Big Hispanic guy, driving a Ford Explorer. Where is he, tell me. NOW! HISSSSSSS!!"
"Who, who are you? The kid sniveled, es usted El Diablo?"
I just smiled, not pretty, too many fangs, and said, "I guess you could say I'm a representative of His Infernal Majesty."
"Ohhhh, Madre de Dios!" the kid squealed.
With a hiss of rage I let him go, and then grabbed his ankle again after he'd only fell a couple of feet. I lifted him back up and snarled in his face.
"Say THAT word again and I WILL drop you next time! HISSS, I said with a toothy snarl. Do you understand me amigo?"
"Si, si, yes, comphrendo! The boy gobbled, Please Mister Devil, please don hurt me!"
"Paco, I replied (I'd heard another gang member call him that, I have good hearing), you've been bad. You're going to go to Hell, and I'll be there waiting for you. Oh the things I'm going to do to you, it will be fun."
"No, no, please, I'll be good from now on, I prometo, Please, give me a change Mister! I never hurt nobody"
I pretended to ponder for a minute, then licking his face again, I said in a nice soft voice,
*"You tell me where the man is, then quit the gang and get a job, make your mama proud of you, then you'll get a second chance. Get married, have babies, go to church. Have a nice family, make something out of yourself." *
"Si, Si, le digo, yes, yes, I will do that, gracias senor demon. The man is in the old warehouse next to the empty supermarket. He was there today, and he was still alive when I left. El heffe, he wants to give the dude to some grande's from Mexico later tonight, make our gang get recognition. And yes, I'll go home to Mexico and help me mama and sisters. Please, please don hurt me!"
"Very good Paco, you do as you promise and you'll never see me again. But I'll be watching. I'm like Santa Clause, I know when you're naughty or nice, so be nice for goodness sake. Hiss, hiss, hiss."
I ran down the telephone pole head first, and gently sat the terrified kid on his feet, and said "Now get the HELL out of here, SHOO, ¡Huya!! HISSSSSS!!"
He backed away from me bowing for a few feet, said "Gracias" one more time, then turned and ran like, well, hell. Boy could that kid move, and only wearing one shoe. I really hoped he took my advice. Otherwise maybe he would meet me again someday, and next time I wouldn't be so nice.
It didn't take me long to find the old warehouse and supermarket, more victims of the drug trade and crime that it produces like a festering infection. Just as I was coming in for a landing I saw two Lincoln Navigators and a Cadillac Escalade pull up. I landed, light as a feather, and looked over the raised edge of the roof. Some punks festooned with gold chains got out and were met by some lesser punk without as much jewelry, who let them into the warehouse. Those, I thought, must be the Grande's Paco had babbled about. They didn't look very grand to me, and they stank too. With a hiss I started looking for some means of entry, but if I had to I'd just tear a hole in the ceiling.
There had been a large air conditioning unit on the roof at one time, it was long gone but the ducts remained. I slipped into one of the openings by tightly furling my wings against my body and slithered down into the old ventilation system. It was amazing how small a space I could fit into by partially collapsing my bones; it didn't even hurt, much. Moving more like a snake now I slithered to where a grill gave me a good view of the warehouses interior. It was a large mostly empty space with supporting girders, except for an office and bathrooms at one end. My sense of smell told me that was where Tony was, and he was still alive. Good. The vehicles finished driving into the building, and the loading bay door was pulled closed. I watched as the "Grande's" approached the small group of punks waiting for them. The large open space produced echoes that made it a little hard to hear, so I carefully removed the grill and crawled out onto the top of a beam. I can be very quiet when I want to be, and didn't make a sound. I was also above the perimeter of light thrown by the few scatted lights that still worked, so I might as well have been invisible. I carefully moved across the beams until I was almost directly overhead, and settled down to listen.
They were having fascinating conversations, even though I didn't understand half of what they were talking about, as they used a language that was part slang, part English, part Spanish, and who knows what else. But I understood the main gist, they were arranging for the Lobos to become auxiliaries of the main gang, and sell drugs and run the rackets in this "territory". The main arguments were about percentages and shipping arrangements, as well as who would handle the financial matters. It was a pretty sophisticated operation. I froze once when I accidently disturbed some dirt and it trickled down onto the head of one of the punks, but he just looked up, brushed it out of his hair, and said, "Palomas tontas!" If he'd seen the red eyes glaring down at him he might have wondered about the size of the stupid pigeon. Growing bored with the gibberish I was hearing I decided to go and find Tony.
His scent came from the office, so I quietly scrabbled across the network of girders to the far wall, and crawled down it onto the floor head first, and keeping low moved up to the back of the office. Like the lizard I resemble I can easily climb; or descend, sheer surfaces, anywhere my razor sharp claws can find purchase. The office was just an old trailer set up on cinderblocks, and I took a quick look in a window. There were two people in the trailer Tony, and a punk. Tony didn't look good, he was tied to a chair and the punks had evidently been having a little fun with their prisoner. His face and skin I could see was black, blue, and green from bruises, and there was blood on his face. I gave a soft hiss of anger, my tongue licking over my fangs. The punk heard me, and curious moved over to the window. It was the last mistake he ever made. The "window" was just an empty frame with no glass, so when he bent over a little to look out I helped him the rest of the way. He was dead before I gently lowered him to the floor. A sharp claw and finger up through the chin and into the brain will do that. He only kicked once. His soul came out of his body hooked on my finger so I just turned and flung it at the black vortex that forms to receive any souls I "harvest". A large muscular red scaled arm reached out of the nothingness and grabbed the soul in sharp black talons and pulled it through, and before the vortex closed I heard,
"Mistress, another one! HISS!"
"Well give it here Pet!"
"No, it's mine, I caught it!"
"PET, don't make me, hiss, come over there!"
Then the swirling blackness snapped closed. What in the world, I thought? But then I turned my attention back to the matter at hand.
I try to keep from killing innocents, the thing I am has no quarrel with them, but as far as I was concerned he was not an innocent. None of them were. They had hurt a friend of mine, and were the same kind of scum that had murdered my family, so I was beginning to see all drug dealers and gang bangers as legitimate targets. And tonight I had lots of targets; I was going to have fun. As the old saying goes, the shit was about to hit the fan.
*I suddenly noticed movement at my feet, and looking down saw a couple of rats that had come to check out the scent of fresh blood. They had no fear of me. Well hello little friends, I thought, and picked one up and gently scratched the top of his head and he gave a squeak of pleasure. I had found that by touching a rat I could control it, see through its eyes. It was one of my powers. So I gave him "directions", they were simple, find as many of your friends as you can and bring them back here, but stay hidden. After one last scratch I set him down, he ran to his mate, and touching her put her under my control as well, then they both took off. Any other rats they touched would be bound to me as well. I promised them a good feed in return for their "help". *
But first I needed to get Tony out of there as I was sure there were going to be a lot of bullets flying shortly, be a shame if he got killed by a stray round. I hopped through the window and approached him. He was awake, but gagged, and his eyes bulged when he saw what came through the window. First he'd seen the punk disappear in a second, now this! I could sympathize; I'm not pretty, he probably thought he was next. He made muffled screaming sounds, but stopped with a confused look on his face when I held up a finger to my snout and made "Shhhhh" sounds. I thought about untying him, but figured he'd probably freak out, so instead I just picked him up, chair and all, and carried him out the same window I'd entered by. I had seen a big stack of old oil drums in one corner of the otherwise fairly empty warehouse, so I stashed him behind them, leaving him lying face down and making muffled enraged noises. Tough, he would give less of a profile that way if any stray rounds made it through the oil drums. I told the rats to leave him alone. They were gathering, and it was amazing how many there already were.
Just as I finished stashing him I heard an uproar from the punks, they'd found out their captive had gone missing, and then found their dead compadre. It was time to; as an old Viet Nam vet friend of mine used to say, lock and load baby! Get some!
I quickly scrambled up the wall and took cover in the shadows as I perched on a beam and watched the punks arguing. There were eighteen of them, there had been nineteen, but the other one didn't count anymore. Each group seemed to think the other one had something to do with it.
"Man, where the Hell did that rat bastard cop go?" yelled one, and others added.
"He even took the chair!" "How the hell did he get loose, and what did he do to Juan? Man, he got a hole in his throat."
"Hey, you said you had a cop for us to play with, I don't seen nothin man!"
"Yeah, right, we let him go and offed Juan just to make it look good! What you think, man! He got to be here someplace! Spread out and look for the rata hedionda!"
"Yeah, let's do that."
First smart thing I'd heard, they were finally getting organized. I watched as a few went back to their vehicles and came back with MAC-10's and even an honest to heck M-16 or two. No wonder the cops were scared of these guys, they had more firepower. Well, time to cut down the odds a little bit.
*I watched as they spread out, and picked two who moved in to the shadows some ways away from the others. With a snap of my wings I swooped down, took ones head off with my leg claws, and disemboweled the other with a swipe of my tail, then was back up in the beams before the eviscerated one even had time to scream. And he did scream, very loudly, but not for long. The others came running, and started freaking out when they saw what was left of their homies. They arrived just as the second one slowly fell over on his side, his guts pouring out through the huge surgically precise slit in his belly. None of them saw the vortex that formed and sucked the two confused souls into it before snapping shut again. *
*"Holy Jesus!" "What the fuck happened?" "Where's Manuel's head?" were the basic comments I heard. *
*Then I goofed, and in other circumstances it might have been fatal. My feet and tail were drenched in blood, and some of it dripped off, and landed on the head of one of the punks. He reached up and felt his head, then looked at his hand and screamed. Then he stepped back and looked up, and I threw him his friends head. THAT got a lot of attention. A couple of them had flashlights and caught me in the glare, and I hissed at the bright light. Then they started shooting, but I was already on the move as I dashed along the narrow beams like a great big rat and they tried to track me. I think they each fired a full clip from their weapons. It sounded like WWIII, bullets flying everywhere, most just sprayed at random in panic. A few hit me, but I hardly even noticed. They either bounced off or ricocheted off into the dark. I ran to the wall, ran down it, and ducked behind the trailer, then flattening myself I crawled under it. Hundreds of beady little eyes were looking at me. Reinforcements had arrived. I let the rats crawl over my body, and gave them their orders. Their soft warm bodies felt nice. It's nice to be loved, even by rats. *
"Man, what the FUCK was that thing!?!" "I don't know, but it got Manual and George, and probably Jose too!" "Did we hit it?" "Man how could we have missed?" "Did you see those wings, and those eyes, Madre de Dios!"
*George, I thought? Kind of a strange name for a Mexican drug dealer, but whatever. I looked out from under the trailer as they spread out again. Got to hand it to them, they were brave enough, stupid, but brave. If they'd just left I'd have let them go. I'd made my point. I watched as a group of three headed towards the office. Watched and smiled. *
The three entered the trailer to check it out, and after they were all inside I followed them by their scent and the sounds of their footsteps. I waited until they were all in the back part of the trailer checking out the other rooms, then quickly crawled out from under the trailer, went through the window again, then shut and locked the door. It didn't take long. Soon the vortex opened again to received three more damned souls, and again I heard a brief bit of conversation,
"Mistress! More of them, he's on a roll!"
"What, well round them up, don't let them get loose! Pet, one's under the desk, get it! HISSS! And don't let the plant eat that one, he'll get sick!"
The vortex snapped shut again, and I just shook my head. What in the heck was going on down there? Then I excited through the window again, and crawled back under the trailer. I moved to the front and waited, hidden behind the cinderblocks it rested on. I marshaled my forces for my next move.
*The rest of the gang, attracted by the sounds of gunfire; and very loud screams, that had briefly come from the trailer approached it cautiously, calling out to their now very dead friends. Not getting an answer they tried the door, and when they found it was locked shot the doorknob off, but still couldn't get it open. Idiots. After another half a clip from a MAC-10 they finally managed to get it open. Hell, if they'd just kicked it the cheap lock would have broken easily. *
"OK, Louise, you and Jesus, check it out."
Louise and Jesus looked at one another, and both said "Why us?"
"Because I said so dickheads, what are you, men or cobardes?"
"Man, you so brave YOU go!" said Louise, and Jesus just nodded.
I almost felt sorry for them, almost.
Finally the two "volunteers" entered the trailer, very reluctantly and very cautiously. I heard them slowly moving around, and one said,
"Man, what is that smell?"
That, I thought, is the smell of cordite, shit, fear, and lots and lots of blood.
*"iMary dulce, Madre de Dios! iLos Santos nos protegen!" screamed Louise when he saw what was in the main bedroom of the trailer, and a second later Jesus joined in. Seeing three of your friends scattered around in small pieces in a room with blood drenching the floor, walls, and ceiling, will cause that kind of reaction. I cringed when I heard that name, but recovered quickly. *
Louise and Jesus just about knocked down several other punks when they burst out of the trailer screaming. Throwing down their guns they ignored the others yelled questions, and piling into one of the Lincoln's they drove through the door and out into the night with a screech of tires, leaving their compadres staring in disbelieving confusion. Time for more confusion.
I reached out from under the trailer, grabbed two of the punks, and pulled them under with me. It happened so fast no one realized what was going on until the screaming started. Eat'em up! I ordered my faithful rodent hoard, and a flood of rats, hundreds of them, came pouring out from under the trailer and swarmed up the bodies of the nearest two punks, who started screaming and fired their weapons wildly and at random, killing two of their fellow gang members.
The punks watched as large puddles of blood slowly spread from under the trailer, saw two friends of their friends go down under a mass of squealing squeaking rats and another two drop from gunfire, and that was enough for them. With lots of screaming, "¡Muchachoes de Vamanos, lleguemos el infierno fuera de aquí!", shooting (they killed two of their own guys!), they piled into their remaining vehicles and left in, let's say, a hurry. I put an oil barrel through the rear window of the last one to leave, and they disappeared into the night. Ten out of eighteen, not too shabby, I thought. Fourteen if you count the ones they killed themselves, and I got those souls for my Mistress too. I could sense she was most pleased. Now to get the Hell out of here before the cops showed up, if they even bothered. I watched the writhing piles of rats as they fed on the two punks they'd brought down, and picking one up I told him he was a good boy, and "bon appétit". One of the punks wasn't quite dead yet, wet gurgling screams came from the heaving pile of rats, so since I was in a hurry I was "merciful" and ripped his soul out and threw it into the vortex. He was the last one. As I was about to leave I suddenly remembered something, I had almost forgotten about Tony!
Tony listened to the intermittent gunfire and the horrible screams and wondered what the Hell was going on? And what was that THING that had apparently rescued him? He'd never seen anything like it, and those eyes! He heard the crunch of something heavy walking on the gravel strewn floor and watched as two black scaly legs ending in feet with horrendous claws came into view, claws covered in fresh glistening blood. Oh God, he thought, it must be my turn now! So Tony was rather surprised when it set the chair upright, and using razor sharp claws easily cut through the heave hemp rope and duct tape he was bound with. He couldn't stand up right away as the circulation to his hands and feet had been cut off, and it hurt like a bitch when the feeling started to come back. The strange creature turned to leave, and Tony said,
"Wait a minute, please! Who are you, WHAT are you? Why?!?"
"Me? I replied, I'm a friend of a friend. Doug sent me, he thought you could use a hand. As to what I am, you don't want to know. But if you need help again just call him, and I'll come."
*Tony, too surprised to say anything else, stared at the creature climbed right up the wall, ran along a beam, squeezed into a much too small looking ventilation duct, and vanished. Well, he thought, Doug certainly has some, interesting, friends. He had a feeling there was a lot more to this that he didn't; and really didn't want to, understand. But whatever, he was grateful. As he left the warehouse he was appalled and shocked by what he saw, it looked like an abattoir, a slaughterhouse. And the rats, Sweet Jesus, the bodies were covered in them and more were arriving every second. But he didn't feel much sympathy for the punks. He took some money from the pocket of one of the more recognizable corpses, and finding a payphone called for his wife to come and pick him up. When he got home he hugged his kids for the longest time, and later made love to his wife for hours. And in the morning he planned to pay Mr. Brewster a visit, and hopefully get some answers. *
It was fair ways, but I flew straight back to the house and just beat the light of dawn. I changed to the most human form I could, and again it was even less human then before, and it was getting harder. I took a scalding hot shower until the water swirling down the drain wasn't red anymore. By the time I left the bathroom I was dry, the water rising off of me as steam. Then I crawled into bed, and hugging the Barney doll I fell asleep and; mercifully, was spared any dreams.
I woke up when I heard a car pull up in the drive. With a hiss I moved to the window and looked out. Shit, it was Tony! I should have known he'd show up. Quickly I threw on some clothes, tucking my now three foot tail down a pair of baggy pants. And where were the stupid black sunglasses?! The doorbell had rung four times before I found them. Putting on the glasses I ran to the door, and slowly opened it.
"Geez, said Tony, you look worse than I do Doug. Here's your mail."
"Hi Tony. Had a long night, didn't sleep very well. It's kind of bright out here, come on in. m Want a beer?"
"Yeah, I had a long night too, very long. If you've got a San Miguel that would be nice, otherwise anything but lite, said Tony, I can't stand that horse piss."
"You and me both, Foster's OK?" I replied.
*"Yeah, that's perfect, those Aussies know their beer. Oh yeah, that's good!" he added as he drank half the bottle in one hit. *
"So, I asked, what brings you over my way Tony?"
"Oh, not much, ran into a friend of yours. About seven feet tall, bat wings, black scales, long fangs, likes to tear people into little pieces and feed them to rats. Know who I'm talking about?"
"Not a clue Tony; sounds like baby Godzilla to me." I replied.
"Yeah, well this dude makes Godzilla look like a poser. I'm not complaining though, he got me out of a hairy one. Said he knew you."
Shit, I thought, should have just waved bye-bye and kept my damn snout shut.
"Well, if I run into him I'll let you know. Glad you're OK though. How are the wife and kids? You got nice kids."
"Yeah, thanks. Tony replied. Well, it's been fun, got to go. Police want to know if I know anything about gang shootout that happened last night."
"Geez, I said, that's terrible, hope no bystanders got hurt. By the way, you got anymore information for me?"
"Yeah I do, said Toney, here." And handed me a brown envelope he'd had folded up in his pocket. "I think this might be useful. If you run into our friend tell him I said Hi. Thanks for the beer."
*I watched as he got back in his car and drove away, then I went to the kitchen table and opened up the envelope. It was just what I needed, the three gang members had rented; or at least, were staying at a house in their new area of operations, using it as their HQ while they moved in. Well, I planned on evicting them, from life. *
It was late afternoon, so I didn't have much time to wait for dark. Still it was frustrating, having to wait for the damned sun to go down. I had found the more I killed, the more I was starting to enjoy it. At first that had bothered me, but no longer. I was anxious to hunt again, to do that which was my reason for existing now. And I was hungry; I hadn't had a chance to eat much last night, things had moved too fast.
I thought about a detour to Madame Marian's first, the Sorceress who had helped me arrange to damn myself for eternity. I did not blame her in any way; she had only helped me get what I wanted at the time, before I knew better. She and her familiar were the only ones who knew what I was now, and accepted me without question. That meant a lot to me. Plus she was a lover of sorts as she wasn't picky about who she had sex with, and in fact had eagerly accepted me as a lover, in both my forms, and I needed sex worse now then I'd ever needed it before. Sometime my lust became unbearable, and if not for her I would find be driven to find; and rape, another partner. So when I felt the need she always welcomed me with open arms, and legs. But not tonight, the scent was too fresh, and I hungered. Besides, I had another "partner" in mind to relieve my sexual needs, but I doubted if she'd be as enthusiastic about my intentions as Madame Marian.
The address provided me was in an older rundown working class neighborhood that had slowly been abandoned by any self-respecting people long ago. Now many houses were vacant, and the few that were occupied were usually sandwiched in-between vacant lots and/or abandoned ones. It was perfect. The windows all had bars, and the front door was solid with only a small window, typical of crack houses and gang hideouts. The bars wouldn't have stopped me, but I decided to be polite and go in the front door. After all I had nothing to hide.
I knocked on the door and patiently waited, tapping a claw against the floor of the porch. Hurry up will you, I thought, I don't have all night. When the small view slit opened I made a "V" with two fingers and poked out the punks eyes with a quick jab. I'd recognized him instantly; his gang name was Dog, his real name was Martino. He reeled back from the door screaming and clawing at his empty eye sockets, and I followed by kicking in the door. It was metal reinforced and had a crossbar on the back but that didn't make any difference, and it flew into him and knocked him back for several feet. I jumped onto the door, the man pinned underneath. Only his head and shoulders were showing, so I leaned over, gently took his head in my mouth, bit down hard, and his head exploded in like a ripe cantaloupe, and his brains were sweet and delicious. Just as I chucked Dog's soul through the vortex a second man, one named Zorro (real name Manalito) came out of a room, took one look at the sight of a monster standing on top of his headless friend with brains dripping from its fangs, and did what anybody would, he shot me, several times, at point blank range. At that range even Barney Fife couldn't miss, and he didn't. It was annoying. The slugs from the .44 magnum bounced off my scales, except for one that went in my mouth. That one I spit out with a deep snarl. Then he did was anybody would have done as a second course of action, he tried to run. With a hissing roar I followed. He got as far as the kitchen, where the third member was waiting, a woman named Velvet, real name Daniella. Zorro was almost out the door, so I flicked my tail at him and several of the spines flew off and hit him in the legs. He screamed and dropped like a sack of potatoes, the paralysis instantaneous. I could have caught him easily, but that pursuit might have given Velvet time enough to reach their car, which I didn't want. Zorro didn't have long though, the spines were poisonous too. He'd last maybe an hour; or two if he was really strong, but I'd make him last longer; he wouldn't die until I said it was OK to do so. There was no antidote. It was a very unpleasant way to die, but quick compared to what he'd done to my family.
*Velvet had been screaming the whole time, but when I turned to face her her screams died away into a breathless whine. Zorro was out of it, moaning as he pulled at the spines sticking out of his legs, useless as they're barbed. They'd break down and soak into his body in a few minutes though. That would be when the pain really started. So now it was just me and the lovely Velvet, and we had all night. My two fresh kills; Zorro was dead too-he just didn't know it yet, had excited me, and the scent of a terrified female aroused me. *
I felt my penis slide from my vent and harden, and Velvet saw it too, and looking at me in horror begged,
"No, no, por favor, I'll do anything, but not that!"
"Yesssss, I hissed, you will. If you pleasure me well perhaps I will be merciful."
"Please, she begged, who are you, why are you doing this?"
"You'll understand soon enough, I snarled, Now take off your clothes, or I'll rip them off! HISSSSSS!"
She still didn't want to cooperate, so with a growl of impatience I picked her up and carried her down the hall into a large bedroom. I was tiring of her whining. I threw her on the bad, and then looked around. There was a crack pipe on the small night stand, looks like Velvet and Zorro had been partaking of their own stock, shame on them, how unprofessional. There was also a black tote bag, and opening it I found what I had smelled. More crack in dime bags, and two large blocks of cocaine wrapped in plastic. Worth a small fortune on the street, more than most honest people could make in a lifetime. Enough to destroy the lives of hundreds.
*I turned back to the bed and Velvet still hadn't taken her clothes off, which was starting to piss me off. Growling I grabbed her leg and dragged her to the edge of the bed and proceeded to tear her clothes off in small ragged pieces while she squealed and struggled, whining and begging. I have to admit I enjoyed stripping her though, my arousal growing as her body was revealed. She was a big heavy woman, one of those squat compact kind with large breasts and wide hips. I squatted down and thrust my snout between her legs, smelling her sex, and with a hiss ran my tongue out and tasted her. She had thick dense pubic hair and a large mound with prominent lips, and I ran my tongue over it, and then in as far as I could go as I ate her pussy. To my surprise she started getting wet almost right away, why you naughty girl! Enjoying this, are you? *
*I licked her for awhile longer, tongue fucking her while she moaned and gasped. Then I stood up, and grabbing the back of her head with one hand I guided my aching cock with the other, pressing the slick head beaded with pre against her face. She tried to turn away, but I held her head steady as I forced myself into her mouth. She tried to bite at first, but then accepted the inevitable and I slowly forced almost my entire length into her mouth, then with powerful gyrations of my hips I fucked her in the mouth, and she gagged and slobbered giving muffled squeals as I slid in and out. As aroused as I was it didn't take me long to have a massive orgasm, and I snarled in pleasure as my cum blasted down her throat, and leaked from her nose and around her lips. I kept myself inside her mouth for awhile longer to make sure she'd swallow most of my cum, then pulled out with a final hiss of pleasure. That had been nice, she had a really deep throat! But I was just getting started. *
*Next I spun her over on her stomach and mounted her from behind, and fucked her long and brutally. I fucked her as hard as I could while she gave muffled squeals and screams as she grasped at the bed sheets, her screams peaking as she had orgasm after orgasm. But the loudest sound in the bedroom was the sound of my scaly thighs slamming into her rump as I humped her for over an hour nonstop, roaring as I climaxed several times. She was one hell of a good fuck! When I dismounted she probably thought it was over, but I was just getting started. Next I raped her in the ass for an even longer period, and then forced her to give me another blow job. I was impressed, she was very talented, she swallowed it all. *
*Then I threw her back on the bed on her back, and pulling her legs wide I started fucking her again. She gasped and drummed her heels against my back as I thrust into her, my long tongue lathering her breasts as I hissed and snarled in pleasure. She was a DAMN good fuck; it was almost a shame considering what I had planned for her next. I think she was really surprised a couple of hours later when I leaned down and bit her nipples off, one at a time. Then I started slashing her with my claws, fucking her the whole time, and she actually had several more orgasms as she screamed and bucked under my claws as I fucked her and fucked her nonstop the whole time. When I was through with her front I flipped her over and fucked her in the ass again while I slashed her back. I did to her exactly what they had done to my sister and wife. Each cut, each slash, in the exact same spots as I had memorized their autopsy photos. Then I flipped her over on her back again and fucked her for awhile longer until I had one final extremely pleasurable orgasm, then dismounted for the first time in over six hours. I was spent, and felt just fine. I looked at her ravaged body almost affectionately, she had given me much pleasure, but that did not stop me from doing what I did next. I took the bags of cracks and stuffed them into her mouth and ass, and then I packed her pussy with the blocks of pure uncut Columbian cocaine, all of it, shoving it in with my fingers and cock, filling her womb until she looked pregnant. The drugs had no effect on me. She should have died from an overdose almost right away, but I kept her alive for the final touch. I put a plastic bag over her head and waited until she suffocated, just like my family, and then hooked her soul and threw it into the waiting vortex, and the scaly red arm grabbed it and dragged it through. I had a feeling poor Velvet was in for some more serious fucking when she got to Hell. I'm sure my fellow demons would appreciate her ample charms as much as I had and that she would have an unending supply of enthusiastic "lovers", probably several at the same time. Who knows, maybe she'd enjoy it, she'd certainly had enough orgasms while I was humping her. *
Then I walked back into the kitchen for Zorro. He should have died a long time ago, but I'd kept him alive. His body had literally rotted while it was still alive. The poison caused instant corruption, like industrial grade gangrene. His body was bloated like a corpse that had been in the hot sun for over a week, the blue and black flesh splitting open, the open sores teaming with maggots. His eyes bulged out, swollen pus filled boils, but still he somehow saw me, and with a horrible gurgle begged me,
"Por favor, please, please kill me. I can't, the pain, please...."
*I crouched down next to him and told he why I had done what I had done, and where he was going. I wanted him to know, felt I at least owed him that. Then I let him die, and his soul followed Velvet's into the vortex, and again I felt my Mistresses pleasure and gave a pleased hiss. Yes, I was serving her well, and I could hardly wait for her to send for me. *
Since Zorro was too rotten even for me, he was staring to melt into goo, I went and got what was left of Dog, and the rest of his body followed his brains into my stomach. Well fed and sexually satiated, at least for a few hours, I left the scene of my "crime", and with weary flaps of my wings headed for home. But before I left I torched the house, to tidy up after myself so to speak.
*Cruel, yes, merciless, yes, brutal and horrible, definitely. But then I'm no longer human, I AM a creature of cruelty, mercilessness, brutality, and horror. It is what I was created for, what I asked to become. They were fellow humans who chose to do what they did to three innocents who had done them no wrong, no harm. So do not preach to me about "morality" or "fairness". My "victims" suffered far less then my family did. If you're going to feel sorry for anybody then feel sorry for my sister, wife, and unborn child. Feel sorry for me, for what little humanity I have left was just as terrified as my victims, and screamed along with them deep in the back of my mind as more of it died. Soon that remaining humanity will be gone, and I'll truly belong in Hell with my Mistress. *
When I got home I took a long scalding shower that fell cool and nice against my scales, then I hopped into the bed and clutching the Barney the Dinosaur doll close to my chest I fell into an exhausted sleep. Seven down, three to go. If I dreamed I didn't remember it.
** The End**
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