Just Another Day

© 1997 J. M. du Chatinier
All rights reserved.

Let me introduce myself, Timothy Hunter, professional Demon Hunter, adventurer, drunk, and explorer. Yeah, that's one hell of a title, neh? Well, some people call me hero, others call me thief, others call me bloody drunk, and even others call me 'Mortal'.

At the moment, I'm trailing a Demon called Zack. Simple name, you're probably thinking. Well, it's his True Name. All that ex's and z's stuff is thought up by the wizards who summon them. Makes it look more impressive and dangerous. It also makes my job seven hells of a lot harder. You see, Demons aren't that imaginative, so they take over the names of the wizards who summon them. After they kill them and have their guts for breakfast of course. Stupid wizards.

Now, this Demon, Zack, he's one of the greater Demons. Not a Lord of Hell, or however those wizzies call them, but still the equivalent of a noble or something. It doesn't really matter, he's going to die anyway.

You see, normally I keep my business separated from my personal life. What there's left of it anyway. I get the assignment, find the Demon's True Name, find the Demon himself, kill him, get the reward. Simple, neh? Well, I got this assignment from some stinking old wizard in a tower somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Told me his contract with this Demon called Azbraxxaluckus (How do they think those names up? I mean, two x's?) was ending next month. So, I was to kill the Demon. No problem. Well, he had a bit of a problem with the price, but wizards are always greedy old bastards. Unless they've just started—then they're greedy young bastards.

Anyway, I was searching for this Demon's true name in some old dusty tomb somewhere, when I see this small little red Imp sitting on the ground, grinning for all he's worth. Just some bloody Imp, I thought, unsheathed my sword (silver, if you're wondering), and walked towards him with the intention of making Imp Sandwich. Then, faster then I can blink, the bloody little git jumps towards my head and digs his searing hot claws in my skull. When I threw him off my head, he was shivering like a cat in the rain, and squeaking. Myself, I felt like a Dragon's Tax-man. Bad, real bad. My head felt empty, a high tone reverberating between my ears, as if my head was empty.

By the time I got my pounding head together, the Imp was gone. In his place was a note with glowing red gothic-style letters. Demons are so predictable. Sighing, I picked it up, already knowing what it would say.

'Your soul is mine...' blablabla '...you will bow before me..' yakkedieyak '...know your sisters name...' blablabla '....taken her hostage'... the usual. WHAT! I reread the last section. So, the guv can't stand up to me, huh? He needs to take my sis hostage, eh? I crumpled the note between my hands and drove it into the ground with my boot.

I found the Demon's True Name, after a while, and that's how I find myself here, in an old abandoned village, again in the middle of nowhere. One day wizards and Demons are going to live in a populated area and the world will crack. Ah well, at least it isn't at the other bloody end of the world, like last time.

Zack should be residing in the village church, if my experience tells me correctly. And indeed, approaching the town square, I can see the church. A blood-red glow is emanating from behind the broken windows. This is going to be hard. He has my sis, and probably a few minor Demons as well. I unsheathe my sword, and check my vials with holy water. Yup, all there.

Cautiously, I enter the church. It's in the old style, with walls painted to resemble the great and mighty deeds of some god or the other. From the top hangs a large chandelier, and several torches hang on the walls. This would be quite a serene place if there wasn't blood all over the place, if the torches weren't emanating the blood-red glow, and if there wasn't an old man in wizard robes hanging from the chandelier.

Oh hell! That would be my employer. As on cue, several clouds of red dust appear in the room. Yup, even the sulphur smell is there. A pair of minor Demons on the right and left, and in front of me, Zack. I must admit, for a Demon noble, he was impressive. Red skin, two curved horns, large yellow-white fangs, and lotz of muscles on the chest and arms region. He also has my sis hands in an iron grip with one hand. She's unconscious, luckily. She isn't hurt... or is she?

"Greetings Timothy Hunter, today thy bones shall be consumed by the everlasting and infernal flames off—"

Then I see it. She has wings. Large, bat-like wings.

Something inside me goes snap. A red haze comes before my eyes, I feel my muscles tensing. The berserker rage is starting to boil inside my body.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SISTER!!"

I seem to have interrupted Zack, for he looks at me with an irritated expression. Then a smile crosses his ugly face, making it look like a mask they wear at the theatre. "We have brought upon her the touch of the Lord. She has seen his great Power, and stood shivering in his radiance." I stand still, letting the fool rant, building up the rage, letting my anger flow free. There's really no room now for the semblance of a cohesive thought in my mind, since the 'intelligent' part of my consciousness was put somewhere in the broomcloset of it. The Rage is a great kick, one of the few good points which come with the job.

I'm almost there, I have almost reached full rage, and Zack's still talking. That's the problems with Demons, they like the sound of their own voice too much. Just before I reach full rage, Zack stops talking. He starts chanting in High Demonic, which is really a rip-off from ancient elf, making mage-like gestures in the air. Then, the ground explodes, and a big Demon rises from the ground. And I mean big big. Standing as tall as a two-story house, with yellow-skin and muscles everywhere, great claws, and a club as big as himself, I really don't think I should fight this Demon hand-to-hand. I have only heard of these Demons once. They are called 'BloodWarriors' or something. I also heard that they are invincible in combat. Then the full rage kicks in, and consciousness takes a coffee break.

Sometimes it just doesn't pay to be a Demon-Hunter.

The minor demons were dead. In true Demon fashion, Zack and his big friend ordered them to attack me first. My sword cut through their throats like hellfire cuts through ice. Gothic armor is all very nice and well, but above all, it's heavy. And horns look very impressive, but it's kind of hard to protect your throat when you can't put a helmet over them.

So, here I am. I've just killed the fourth minor Demon, my sword's green with blood, my clothing has become even smellier, but I'm not hurt. Not that I'd notice. My body stores that information for after the fight. The BloodWarrior hefts his club, throwing over some chandeliers in the process. I stand still, awaiting the moment of impact. The club goes up, Zack smiles, but doesn't do anything. Strange. The club gains height. My body could be a statue.

Then, the club comes down. Terminally. I bolt forward, spurred by a shot of adrenaline, fear and rage. I hear the club crashing into the ground behind me. The ground shakes, masonry falls to my left and right. But I'm jumping for his legs, sword high, screaming something very rude in Demonic. Two seconds later, my sword would've disabled his legs. Too bad Zack decided to do something one second later.

My eyes saw a small red point of light floating towards me. Now, this isn't an obvious attack. If I wasn't in a Rage, I would've noticed. Really. But as things were, it touched me. And then it exploded. I was thrown upwards, by the force of the blast. The flames seared my chest, and my eyebrows would take ages to grow back on. Then gravity decided to take notice of me and I fell down, which wasn't a very nice experience either.

Still dazed, some sixth sense made my body roll to the left. I barely avoided being crushed to death by a giant club. Again, masonry fell, dustclouds rose, and the ground shook.

This was it. When in Rage, your body reacts to certain things. Anger, fear, pain. Right now, the body was knocking at Rage's office door, screaming things about pain and burns and bruises and broken bones. Rage took all this in consideration, and pressed what in a TV-series would be called the Big Red Button.

If someone would be watching the fight, the last they would've seen was a giant Demon swinging his club down on a person who was lying on the ground. When the club landed, all that could be seen was a cloud of smoke. The 'smaller' Demon laughed an insane laugh. It sounded as if he had practised it. Then, from within the dust cloud, the silhouette of a man with a sword could be seen. The silhouette was flaming with a red blaze, an aura of rage. When the dust had settled down, the eyes of the man could be seen. Red as rubies, flaming with anger. The large Demon was hefting his club, the 'smaller' Demon shouted something in a foreign tongue, and the man leaped at them with incredible speed.

Of course, someone watching the fight would probably not stick around when he saw the two Demons. But that's beside the point.

I jumped at them, battle aura blazing, my speed quadrupled, my strength greater then a Titan. Or maybe not. But hey, I've never met a Titan.

Anyway, the BloodWarrior was too slow. Much too slow. My sword pierced both his ankles, spraying me with black blood. Slowly, he started falling. First on his knees, then flat on his face. It surprises me 'till now that the church didn't come down. I knew the roof did. I was rather thankful for that battle aura right then. It burned the stones before they could hit me on the head. Zack had put up some barrier spell or the other, because when the dust once again cleared, it was just him and me. He was looking really angry now.

Ah well, he wouldn't look it long.

Thirty yards, that was the space between us. Never a great tactician, the Rage kicked my body into a full speed frontal charge. Zack started casting hastily, his face illuminated by the ball of energy forming between his hands. Twenty-five yards. With a scream, Zack shot the energy-ball at me. It screamed like a lost soul, flying towards me, illuminating the dark. Instinctively, I crossed my arms in front of me in a defensive posture, but the Rage kept me running. So much for dodging. The energy ball hit me right on the arms, and it was like being hit with a sledgehammer. The breath was knocked out of me, but wondrously, I was still running. My arms were smoking. Somewhere, my consciousness noted that my body couldn't take more of this, but was knocked out unceremoniously by the Rage. Fifteen yards. Zack, looking scared for the first time, starts chanting again. This time, flames cover his whole body, not unlike my battle aura. Ten yards. The flames around Zack grow more intense, and his chanting grows louder. Five yards. My sword goes up, my body does not have energy left to scream. Three yards. Zack's 'hands point towards me. His chanting ends. The flames have grown black with heat. My sword starts its downwards arc. One yard. My sword digs into Zack's neck. Zack releases the flames. My body feels like it's being burned alive. That wouldn't be a bad description of what's actually happening.

Then, Rage decides to call it a day. Good news and bad news. Good news is, the Demon is dead, or the Rage wouldn't have stopped. Bad news is, I regain consciousness. Only to lose it again.

"Tim-kun! Tim-kun! Wake up!" Niki was afraid. The last few days seemed a haze, a bad dream. When she finally had woken up, she wasn't in her parents' castle, but in some strange ruin, beneath stones, dust, and blood. And when she had fully awakened, she had come to a conclusion. She had wings.

Now, she wasn't really scared about that little fact. Her parents had something similar, and she was quite familiar with the supernatural. So she decided to worry about it later, and find somewhere, somebody, something that could help her out. She immediately smelled a very strong odor of rotten eggs. Curious, she followed the trail of the scent.

What she found wasn't a very pretty sight. It was a pile of red... red... red pudding? It steamed. And only a few yards away, lying on the ground was a man. He was badly burned, his clothes were almost completely reduced to ashes, what once should've been his sword was a puddle of metal, and he had wounds everywhere. When Niki walked closer, she thought she remembered the man from somewhere. Slowly, she knelt down by his face, and cleaned it as well as possible. The memories came back in a flash. Her brother.

So she had taken them into the forest. Somehow, she had smelled a fresh pool of water in it. Strange, it seemed that she could smell all kinds of things. The buildings, the trees, the chipmunks, the birds. Carrying her brother (man, he could lose a few pounds if she had anything to say about it. What did he need all those muscles for anyway?) she entered the waterplace.

It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. The water was clean, the trees around it were green, the sun reflected on the water, and... and.. it was just like one of her mother's pictures. Only without all the red and black. The place seemed to pull away her fear and push in calmness. So she washed herself as well as she could. The 'clothes' she was wearing at the moment were quite dirty. And they were so out of fashion. The rag style had died out centuries ago. Or so her father had said. And he would know.

After washing herself quite thoroughly, she walked to her unconscious brother. "Well, here ya go." She removed his clothes, and with a grunt she pulled him towards the water. Once in the water she started washing him as she had been washed by the servants when she was little. "Strange that I don't remember much of you, Tim-kun. But you were away so often. I haven't seen you since I was... five?" She carefully cleaned a bad burn. "So how come you never came around to see me? And how come mom and dad never spoke about you?" Seeing that her wash didn't answer, and Niki had finished cleaning, she once again she decided it was time for him to wake up.

"Tim-kun! Tim-kun! Wake up!"

"Tim-kun! Tim-kun! Wake up!" What? Nobody has called me that since.... Then my subconscious kicks in. I do what I've done every time I've been having a fight like this or I've been drunk. First, are all limbs in place? Check. Second do I seem to be breathing? Check. Hurt? Yes, but not deadly. Damn, it would've been better if it'd been deadly. Ooh, that hurts.

So, after running through the checklist, I decide it's safe to open my eyes. And I look at a very cute face. The face of my sister.

"Oh Tim-kun, you're awake! Thank the gods!"

I suppress a reply to her last command. I'd rather ignore the gods if it'd be at all possible. But, somebody who can make you instant toast by the means of lightning, you don't offend. Not while you're in an open space anyway.

Then I notice I'm quite naked, lying in a pool. "Errr, Nik? Where are we?"

My little sis seems quite happy when I call her Nik. She perks up, and her wings flap a bit. "We're in a pool Tim-kun. I washed you! You were all dirty and wounded and hurt, and I decided you needed some cleaning." I smiled. She hasn't changed very much, then. "So, brother, how did I get here? Where are we? How come you never came to visit? What where you doing there? Why were you hurt? Why—"

"Woah little one! One question at a time 'kay?" I walk to the edge of the lake, search for my clothes, and put them on. They're toasted and torn, but at least I've got rid of the fleas.

I turn around and see my sis watching at me intently.

"Listen Nik, I was the one who got you into this mess. I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened."

Nik seems to consider this. Then she smiles. The smile reminds me of ten years back. It's a very cute smile. "Oh Tim-kun, that doesn't matter. I'm here with you, I'm seeing something outside the castle, and I'm all right. This is fun!" Yup, that's how my parents would've raised her, wouldn't they? Completely ignorant of the outside world. Their little 'jewel'. Damn them.

"As for where we are, we're in a region called the Dalelands. A weeks' travel to the nearest town, three weeks to the nearest city." I see her eyes brighten.

"A city! Like they describe in the books? With merchants and guards and princes? And taverns?"

I can't help but laugh. It's good to see her. Then something that I've been trying not to think about crops up.

"Listen Nik. You know you have wings, right?" A nod. "I don't know how to say this, but you're a... a... succubus. A sort of Demon." Nik looks surprised. Then amazed. And then she looks like she's thinking really hard.

Finally, she asks: "So, Tim-kun, what's the difference between a succubus and a vampire?" I cringe at the way she so naturally accepts her heritage. A vampire. Yes. Our parents were vampires. Seems like she has taken most of their vampiric traits though. I just don't like garlic. And now she's a succubus. And I hunt Demons. But she's my sis. I will never hurt her. Never. So I turn to her, and say: "Oh it's just a distant relative of the vampire really. Nothing to worry about. You know how mom and dad can change into a bat?" Nod. "Well, you don't have to learn changing." And you have some other powers, but you sure as hell ain't old enough to know about those, young lady.

Niki was having a great time. She was with her brother, she was a different sort of vampire, she was near to a town, and there were all kinds of new things to do! The castle was just so boring, and her parents never let her out. There was just one question left unasked though. "Tim-kun, one question left... What where you doing there?" Tim-kun looked a bit uncomfortable, but then shrugged.

"I'm a Demon Hunter Nik. I get paid to kill Demons."

This sounded very exciting to Niki. Demon Hunting. Old temples, adventures to discover where they were, and—and—and so much more. She uncontrollably flapped her wings, spraying some water over her brother. "Tim-kun! Please let me help you with Demon hunting! Please! Please?"

Timothy looked at her with a very stern look on his face, practically beaming no. But Niki knew how to change people's minds. You just smiled a bit here, looked at them like this, and if all else failed, started to cry. It always worked on mom and dad, so why not on their son?

Tim sighed. He should've looked the other way. The smiling he could handle. The look had him almost giving up, but he persevered. He had overcome Demon Lords, nobles, bar-fights and even a girl claiming be his wife. Which was total lie, by the way.

But when she started to cry, his walls crumbled, his troops threw down their weapons, and the gates were opened. So he had allowed her to come with him. He couldn't send her back to his parents, could he? They would just put her into that bloody golden cage of theirs. No way.

So, Timothy Hunter walked through the forest, in burned clothes, with no weapons, and no pay. Next to, sometimes above, sometimes in front, and sometimes behind him, was sometimes walking, sometimes flying, sometimes climbing, his little sister. Sixteen years old, very attractive, with two wings to mark her a succubus, two fangs a vampire. She was totally naive, had never interacted with anyone but her parents and their controlled slaves, and had most surely never met a boy of her age, if he knew his parents. What was he about to unleash on the world?

Maybe it was a very good way to pay back the world for unleashing his life on him. Maybe, just maybe, this day it might pay to be a Demon Hunter.

Maybe.

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