Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Descent: Child of Shadows ❯ Chapter 5

Descent: Child of Shadows Five

"Let me go!" the man all in black cried, wiggling at the end of the woman's arm. She held him casually over her head, as if it was no effort at all.

"And why would I do that?" Descent asked, her mane of black hair flowing around her. A cold little smile, "You did shoot at me."

All around them men and woman in matching black business suits lay unconscious, another shipment of drugs scattered to the winds. Over to the side of them was an expensive briefcase, once filled with money, now nicely aflame with a cheerful light.

"You should be dead," he gasped. The bullets had punched through that pale form, splattering dark blood across the pavement! "What are you, some kind of vampire?"

Descent's smile was grim, "Much more than that." She met his eyes, her own alien and piercing as she continued, "I want you to give Lady Diana a message."

"Y.. yes?" he managed.

"Get out of this area," Descent said to him softly, "it is now under Descent's protection." With a cold little smile she continued, "I may not be able to shut her down, but I can certainly be a thorn in her side. Is that understood?"

"Right," he gasped as she flung him into a nearby wall casually. Turning away she strode out into the night as he rose to his feet, rubbing at his aching throat. The alley was quiet as the figures around him stirred, groaning softly while coming awake. He pulled the celphone out reluctantly and hit the speed-dial, waiting for an answer.

"Yes?" Grace's voice was soft, but it still was a chilling sound.

The woman had quite a dangerous reputation, and he really didn't want to end up on Grace's bad side. Choosing his words very carefully he said, "There was interference with the latest shipment of EX, ma'am. The money and product are both gone."

Her voice was still soft and pleasant as Grace asked him, "Can you tell me what you did to try and stop her, please?"

"She knocked all the others out," he reported nervously, "I tried the machine pistol on her, but she simply healed up."

"Not good enough," Grace said simply.

"Sorry about this, buddy," a woman's voice came from directly behind him. Before he could move the pistol she was carrying coughed once and the man jerked, falling to the ground. The slim blonde in matching business wear reached out to grab the phone before it fell, raising it to her ear as she calmly reported, "This is Lina. It's done, as ordered."

"Well done."

"We'll clean up the scene, try to recover any of the product," Lina said.

Grace hung up on her, and Lina slid the phone away in her overcoat's inner pocket. She looked around at the other men and women and smiled chillingly, "Let's get this mess cleaned up, shall we?" As they collected what was left of the drugs and money, another group stripped the body of identification, then they moved out.

"Hope that special operative the boss called in gets this dealt with soon," Lina muttered to herself as they returned to their vehicles and drove away.

The bar was dark and musty, the oddest scent handing in the still air. It was an interesting mix, some stale beer, a bit of urine, old food, and some things that were even less identifiable. The crowd in there liked the darkness, the shadows protecting them as they sat there, drinking the liquid that the management liked to say was beer.

The front doors of the bar slammed open, the young lady striding inside like she owned the place. She let the door swing shut behind her, a slim black clad figure standing in the dim light of the bar, a bit of white at her throat. Long brown hair was pulled away from her face, tied severely back in a ponytail. The priest looked around her as the murmur of talking customers stilled.

"A normal." the man rose from his seat, a snarl in his voice as he continued, "you should know better than coming in here!" He leapt out of his seat and ran at her, hands extended, something.. wrong about his body as he moved.

In the loud silence the woman drew the gun from under her coat smoothly, raising it so fast that they barely even saw it. She fired once, the loud crack of the gun unrestrained, and the man's green blood splattered anyone nearby as he dropped. There was a moment of stunned shock, the smell of gunpowder and incense hanging in the air.

"My name is Samantha Teresa," she said to them crisply, "though you can call me Sam." She looked down at the fallen form, "I didn't think even this place tolerated ghouls."

There was an odd shine to the bartender's gray eyes as he looked up at her coldly. "I didn't much care for his eating habits," he admitted, "but he paid his tab." He looked her up and down before asking, "So what can we do for you?"

Sam put her gun away, a calm serenity about her. "I know this place is a haven for scum and villainy," she said, "murderers, rapists, and all the rest, but today I don't care. I'm looking for a demon, one that frequents this area."

"Why should we help you?" one of the things demanded from the relative safety of a corner, it's skin nearly hanging off of it's face.

"Because then I would have to take an interest in all of you," Sam said, adding with a thoughtful smile, "I don't think you'd like that."

"This demon have a name?" the Bartender spoke up, eager to get this woman out of his bar and on her way as soon as possible.

"Descent," Sam said simply, waiting for an answer. A few minutes later she walked away from the bar silently, the building burning behind her.

"But you said that you wouldn't..!" the Bartender looked at her in fury, his messy clothes now stained and smelling of smoke.

"No, I said that that I'd have to take an interest in you," Sam stopped to say without turning around. A slight smile tugged on her lips as she continued on, "I'm still not very interested, but you serve terrible beer."

Sam walked away, her thoughts troubled. She had learned a great deal about this demoness, and the more she learned the less she liked. Making sure that she wasn't being followed Sam moved through the city, reaching the safehouse in a few moments. Up the stairs to the hallway, down to the apartment and locking the door behind her.

Taking her coat off but keeping her gun ready Sam sat down on the side of the bed, then flopped over on her back, arms crossed behind her head. She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, considering the situation as she understood it.

Normally, a demon killed randomly as it pursued it's master's goals, striking out at any bystander that might be nearby. Released from their hell-dimension a demon found it's hungers overwhelming, wanting to feed unholy desires. Part of why the Knights Templar still existed was to hunt such things, to prevent them from being unleashed on humanity.

"She isn't acting like a demon," Sam muttered softly.

Descent seemed to be methodically working through the criminal operations in this part of the city, striking at drugs, gun-running and prostitution rings. Even more astonishingly Descent wasn't actually killing anyone, just destroying the product and disrupting supply lines. The sole deaths that Sam had heard about had been caused by Diana's own employees, probably as a warning to lower level operatives not to fail.

A demon summoner could call up such a creature, but controlling it so well.. it was almost impossible. The creatures dark nature would break through eventually,. and an orgy of bloodshed would soon begin. Whatever was going on here, it wasn't normal, not at all. Even her attempt to find Descent using spiritual methods had failed.

Sam reached out to the phone by the bed, considering calling in an expert on magic. 'No,' Sam drew her hand back, thinking of the dark haired mystic grimly, 'whatever Jess has become, I don't trust her. Not just yet, anyway.'

"Only one way I'm going to find out what's going on," Sam sighed to herself aloud, "and that's by finding this damned thing."

Sam got up from the bed, crossing the small room to a simple altar. She knelt down, crossed herself, then softly began to pray. Rising a few moments later she walked over to a small metal case sitting on a otherwise bare table. She popped the clip of normal bullets from her pistol, then slid the sanctified bullets inside.

"Ready," Sam slid the gun into it's holster, grabbing her black coat. She took a deep breath, an aura of gentle peace about her as she readied herself. Brown hair flowing down her back she strode out the door, her expression determined.

To be continued....