I: The Hunter Stalks
"... the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour."
- Peter 5:8
My boots sunk into the grime lining the rain-slick street corner. I stared down the alleyway, watching the trail of blood drip into the gutter. My heart pounded in my throat as I choked the dagger holstered at my belt in a white-knuckled vice grip.
The Lord is my strength and my shield. The Lord is my strength and my shield. The Lord is my...
My hair was matted to my forehead, but I couldn't tell if it was the rain or nervous sweat. Each step into the alley was a test of my mettle. The darkened pathway was as a howling abyss, the sweltering gusts its rancid breath, the trickle of rain its flying spittle. Every nerve in my body told me to flee, but to turn back now would be to cast aside my rank and title and throw myself at the mercy of the gallows. I would see this devil's challenge through or my life would be forfeit.
The wet wind nipped my neck and bit at my ears. I tread one uneasy foot after another into the dark alleyway and listened intently. The tell-tale signs of demonic corruption were there. The crackle of embers on the wind, pulled from the hellish Inferno. The cries of tormented souls, devoured by devils. The scratching on the walls of your mind, the clawing of a dark entity burrowing its way into your brain. Difficult to perceive to the untrained, impossible to miss by those anointed with the holy symbols. I could feel the scripture in my robe's chest pocket throbbing as if it were a part of me.
The mixture of blood and rain in the alley was disturbed by footprints. Though muddled by the blood, there was an alien quality to them--there were rounded toe markings like those of an animal. I sucked in air through my nose and exhaled anxiety; this demon was likely some kind of animalistic predator.
A rank smell grew stronger the farther I went, the intense stench of blood. I was deep within the alley's gullet and could practically taste the iron and plasma in the air. Rounding the corner between the edges of buildings, the sound of something lapping up liquid made my veins freeze.
A slender white figure sat there in the alley on its legs, crouched over the blood-spattered body of a bloated looking man laying perfectly still. Its back and lower half were covered in hair, the fur-like covering soaked in dark crimson. Long red-brown hair, straight and fine, trailed from the creature's head and draped over the man's body. The faint sounds of biting, tearing, and swallowing carried over the falling rain.
The creature raised its head and outstretched its arms, dripping wet with rain and the man's red essence. Its fingers--long, thin and slender, with what could only be sharpened claws where its nails should be--touched the creature's mouth one by one as it savored the leftover remnants of his gore. Its lips were full, pink and plush-looking as they sucked clean each claw. As it sat up straight I took in the full shape of its body--unmistakably hourglass shaped, its breasts in clean view. Aside from its fur, it was perfectly naked and undeniably female.
Unable to stop myself, I gave in to the wiles of her form for only a moment. The shapely, perky hills atop her chest. The plush-soft and flawless pale skin of her back and midsection, despite the firm muscles carved into it. Her perfectly round backside, covered in alluringly soft fur. It only took a moment, but my mind was completely lost in her charm. My head burned and sinful thoughts reigned for a blissful, damning moment.
Catching myself, I gasped and freed myself from her hypnotizing looks.
It is not a woman, it is a demon,
I reminded myself,
and it must be destroyed.
Two tufts of hair on either side of its head moved of their own accord--and turned toward me, revealing pink insides. Ears. It heard me and its head flitted in my direction. Its eyes were dark slits cut into gleaming emeralds. Up and down they searched my form, first in apprehension, its entire body becoming stiff and tight and showing the smallest hint of fear. That quickly faded, however, and something more primal painted its features.
It extended its claws and the corners of its lips bent into the smallest of smiles. The claws on the ends of its toes dug into the ground and its knees bent, primed to spring. Terror spread into every corner of my mind, fight and flight deadlocked in an indecision that left me merely paralyzed and sucking in air. I gripped the blade holstered at my side and held for dear life.
The creature leapt from its spot and began toward me with inhuman speed, the strides of its muscular legs propelling it several feet at a time. I waited with my hand on the blade--if I drew it too soon, the demon would merely slap it from my hands.
Its feet hit the puddles below, splattering the alley with thin rain washed blood. Just a few steps away, now. I had to hold steady; drawing too soon would be a death sentence, as would be drawing too late.
Its foot slapped the water only a few feet away. I could see its bright green eyes staring me down with an animal hunger. It was as a great cat pouncing upon a tiny, trembling mouse--only the mouse was sitting on a steel trap, and just as it closed in, the jaws would snap shut.
The steel sprung from its scabbard and I thrust it before me as fast as a shot. I felt warm flesh stop my hands. The demon's eyes popped open in surprise; it gazed into mine with shocked bewilderment. We stood there in a strangely intimate moment as the dagger sunk home, the creature's face close enough to mine to feel hot breath puffing through its nose.
Glancing down at my hands, I expected to see burning blood pouring from its wound, the essence of evil that even my blessed Hunter's robes would likely not be able to protect me from. Instead, I saw the creature's hands clasped around mine, and the dagger stopped only centimeters away from the pale flesh of the demon's midsection.
"... My, my, how forward. We only just met."
The creature's voice was deep and feminine. It was so close I could smell it, a dizzying mixture of blood and sweat. I tried to wrest my hands free, but it held me in a powerful grip. The demon came closer, dipping its nose toward my neck to take a deep whiff of me.
"You smell..." it said, taking another several sniffs, "wonderrrful. Something about your skin is, ohhh. I could just devourrr you."
A slow purr rumbled in the creature's throat and rolled into my ears. It parted its lips and scratched my neck with its strangely sharp tongue, nearly pricking the skin. It was painful, and yet the sensation of her tongue, hot enough to sear my flesh, made sparks fly in my head.
I shook my head hard and drew away from the demon, tugging my hands free from its grasp--or rather, it felt more like it let me go. The dagger slipped from my fingers and fell into the damp alley, and the creature kicked it away.
"I had heard of you Hunters of the Church beforrre, but never in the flesh. So this is how a holy man is like to treat a lady? Ask no questions, stab herrr in the gut?"
The more it spoke, the more difficult it was for me to hold onto my perception of the creature as a demon. It was female, there was no denying that, but the only thing separating her from that of a human woman were her long clawed fingers and feet, as well as her fur and those inhuman ears on her head. Even the catlike eyes stirred an intrigue in my mind that the Church would be sure to punish if they knew of how my resolve had faltered.
"You--demon! Do not play coy. You murdered that man! His blood stains the alley! You would have done the same to me! The city is endangered by your mere presence!" I barked, holding fast to my resolve.
It was pointless to speak to a demon, as they knew no remorse and no pity. Yet she was not a foot away, a claw to her chin, considering me. Why hadn't she just shredded me into a thousand pieces like she clearly had meant to do a moment before?
From inside my robes I drew my service weapon, a forty-four caliber magnum, and aimed between the creature's eyes. I pulled back the hammer; a silver bullet was primed in the chamber. The demon cocked its head and frowned.
