A rather shitty day.

A few miles outside town sat a large barn, doors wide open, within an odd large square metal plate, covering almost the entire floor. Beyond that, a staircase down into some sort of cellar. In this cellar, two humans sit in a well lit room, every surface metal plated, dust and dirt impeccably cleaned and kept out.Several signs adorn the walls, very loudly proclaiming: “NO SMOKING, OR SOURCE OF FLAME.” and “NO OPEN FIRE!” and numerous extinguishers dotted the walls. One wall was made of metallic pegboard, and full up with numerous high-tech looking rifles, pistols, and what looked to be heavier weaponry. The table between them holds a couple maps, 4 empty beer bottles and 2 half filled ones, as well as what looked to be some sort of bizarre chain-gun-like item in several pieces.
“‘Ey, James should be back soon. Wonder how things went with the air god--”
“Elemental lord of air Rob, you know that, get it right. ‘E’s not a god, ‘e can be killed.”
“Right, ‘elemental lord’. ‘Ate dealing with that fucker. Poor bugger, ‘ope ‘e didn’t get chewed out too much fer that slip-up today... Anyway let’s get this ‘water gun’ or whatever it was fixed back up. ‘Ate to not ‘ave it when those fire buggers show up again.”
Sipping occasionally from the beers Rob and Adam began to laboriously put the weapon back together, taking special note that two glowing orbs were fed correctly into what looked like an ammo drum. The lights above them flickered a couple times before going out completely, just before they finished with their task. Red glow-strips along the edged of the floor and ceiling came on.
“Bloody ‘ell. Fucking reactor’s gone an’ died again ‘asn’t it?” Right. I’ll go fix it...” Rob left the room cursing under his breath, grabbing a toolbox next to the door. Cursing, clanging, and various mechanical sounds echoed in from down the hall, before a loud hum started, followed by the return of normal lighting. The hum quickly faded into the background. “Damned orb fell out again. I swear that thing’s more trouble than it’s worth. ‘Free power, Just stick this ever gusting orb in front of a turbine!’ Go an’ shove it up your arse, stupid elemental. Bloody thing’s ‘ard to keep rigged right.” With that, the entire base rumbled and shook, before the lights went out again.
“Shh. Might be the earthies tryin’ somethin’. Grab the sonic vibro-rounds.” Adam whispered urgently, as they made their way quickly to the weapon rack, and grabbed some submachine guns, the ammo magazines were pulsing faintly green. “You get above ground and check if we’ve been breached there, I’ll check down by the reactor and get it going again. Whatever it is, it didn’t trip the perimeter alarms, or the hull integrity sensors. Can’t have a breach down here, not underground, with earth at its strongest!” Adam quickly left the room the way Rob just came, as Rob crossed the room to the stairs that lead to the surface.
Within the smaller reactor room nothing seemed amiss, so Adam quickly pulled a wrench out of his pocket, and had the reactor running in a quarter of the time it took Rob to get it fixed. Bloody idiot’s as likely to break this thing as ‘e is to fix it... Adam thought to himself. He put the wrench away, and picked up the gun again, feeding the magazine into the gun, he grabbed another as he passed by the wall of guns. A second shuddering of the structure prompted a faster speed as he reached the staircase, this time though, the lights stayed lit. The door at the top of the stairs started to bend, the quaking of the structure becoming rhythmic. After 5 or 6 more hits, there was a shriek of metal tearing, and the door flew off its hinges, blasting down the stairs towards him. He lunged to the side, dodging it.
Framed by the large doorway an earth elemental awkwardly stood there, staring down at Adam it breathed in a low gravelly voice, “You have the taint of the air lord. You must be destroyed.” With that it launched itself down the stairs at him. He scrambled to his feet and picking up the submachine gun as he did so, he started firing at the elemental, silently thanking whatever god was listening for making earth elementals so slow. It smashed into the wall at the bottom of the staircase, buckling it outward, it almost separated from its neighboring panels. Adam started to backpedal, and hastily threw the gun onto full-auto, firing with abandon at the beast of stone as it started to pace towards him again, each step shaking the structure heavily. Stone was shaken to dust wherever a bullet hit the thing, and with each step it grew smaller, a substantial trail of dust in its wake. As the magazine emptied Adam’s hope started to dwindle, this was no minor beast sent after them, this elemental was taking quite a beating and not even slowing. He tossed aside the empty magazine, and fumbled for the second one in his pocket, he continued to backpedal towards the door to the reactor. The rumbling and shaking was starting to nock things loose around the room, and with horror, Adam noted some particularly unstable experimental grenades, tottering closer to the edge of their shelf. The elemental paused a moment, and with a leap, tried to close the remaining distance between itself and Adam. As it landed, the room shook anew, and with this final quake, the grenades slipped from their shelf. Time seemed to slow for Adam, as he leaped into the reactor room, sluggishly flying through the air. He slammed into the wall behind him, as the grenades hit the floor. With a concussion that ended his thought temporarily, the elemental was shattered beyond repair.
A few minutes later Adam struggled to his feet and started slowly towards the stairs, quietly praying that there were no other elementals up above. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, a horrific scene unfolded. Rob was mashed against the floor, likely by the fist of the beast that was just destroyed. The VTOL (Vertical Take Off and Landing craft) lay in a mangled and twisted heap on its pad, the barn roof destroyed by its crash landing. The cockpit remained whole, but was smeared with too much blood to hold any life within it. The rest of the craft was long beyond any hope of repair, one of the engines was twisted and wrecked at an awkward angle, the other wing ended in a molten lump. With a tiny squeak of despair, Adam walked out of the barn and towards the city, his mind set on finding the nearest bar and drinking itself into oblivion.

Next Door to Death

The horned god was imposing but not threatening as he loomed over the full bathtub. His large almond shaped eyes were a flat green color and dull set high in his a goat like head. Moss was clumped in the hair that covered his tall well-muscled body, which, to some degree had humanish stance and appearance. His immense lanky arms were stretched in front of him the equally elegant hands over the basin palms down fingers spread. Crowning the tip of each large digit were large hooked claws, though, as if in direct opposition wisps of white energy wafted from his palms into the bath water.

The rim of the tub was adorned with an alternating pattern of green candles and glittering gold sticks of temple incense. They illuminated the creature towering an easy nine feet above them. He was stooping; the tips of his large curling black horns grazed the ceiling. They threatened to blemish the moss-covered mortar but never actually did. Despite his large size nothing was displaced, nothing was harmed, and everything in the room was absolutely silent. What was taking place was a healing ritual.

The water of the tub was choked with white sage leaves and lilac blossoms. The figure submerged therein was naked and vulnerable to the being above her. Yet there was no need to be guarded or even modest in the entity's presence. Sherah’s wounds needed his brand of holistic tending. Though they were only small scratches, the demon that made them had leached plenty of dark energy into her body. She had begun to vomit the moment she had left Keera and Kole to walk to her apartment. Her patron god, the one standing over her, had been waiting on the other side of her front door.

Having known him too long to wonder how he ad gotten in or why she was receiving his brand of TLC the half dragon settled for asking about something else.

“ Why did you light my summoning candles and incense if you were already here?” her voice chipped the silence like a rock against a very expensive vase.

The towering deity’s chuckle made the water in the tub ripple inwards.

“ You aren’t relaxed by them. I find the combination of amber light and the sent of burning myrrh and what ever else is in that stuff to be quite pleasant.” One of his massive feet knocked against the base of the tub. “ Silence. This is serious business.”

She stifled a laugh and shut her eyes. As the charged water wrapped itself around her the nausea caused tension in her abdomen dulled and eventually died.

“ You really shouldn’t attack everything in your path. Especially demons you know nothing about” the voice above her boomed.

“ I had it handled.” Taking the renewal of communication as a sign he had finished healing her she sat up. “ I have no idea how that bastard managed to pierce my skin.”

“ Anything that can mar dragon scale is bad news.” Her view of him was blocked by a fluffy purple towel. “ The future I have seen is a troubling one indeed. You must trust instincts over orders if you wish to come out of it alive.”

She took the towel from him exiting the tub.

“ What the hell is that supposed to….” She realized he was gone and wrapped the towel around her self. “ Well damn, don’t stay around for tea and cookies or a thank you.”

She had known the forest god her entire life. He had always been there to protect her and was the only breath of fresh air as far as her life was considered. Working for the Council of Draelin was bloody and often suffocating. She had no tangible friends to speek of and lived under close watch.

Abomination they had called her they day they killed her mother. The woman’s crime had been consorting with another species. Since then her existence had been allowed under the thumb of the council. They provided everything, food, an apartment, and her job. The aforementioned housing complex just happened to be home to one the most renowned reapers in the order. Kole lived next door by happenstance. She sighed. If they hung her death in front of her nose she would be less inclined to defy them.

Leaving the bathroom she managed to drag her tired body across the apartment and fell unceremoniously into her bed. A new wave of nausea hit her as she pondered what it would mean to trust her instincts over orders. Her eyes burned with the onset of tears as she squeezed them closed. What ever was about to happen her part in it would bring her close to death. She startled as the slam of a door echoed in the hallway. With a shaking wheeze she stopped the flow of tears. The reptile in her cringed as the temperature in her room dropped. Kole was home.

“ It doesn’t matter.” Sherah assured her self curling into a ball as the moist towel brought the coldness of the air against her body. “ You’ve lived next door to him your whole adult life. You can take getting a bit closer.”

Subordinates

"So our little rebel knows her way around magic, it seems." Kole said. "And you're telling me there was no way to track her."

Keera and Royal looked at their boss. Kole usually called the two of them over to his desk to go over assignments, but this time was different. The crime scene that they had just visited had yielded nothing but questions and the mysterious book that Keera had picked up: The Art of Demon Whispering. It was a title that promised nothing good for the council. Certainly nothing for Keera or Royal, who were liable to assigned yet more tasks in order to investigate. The Fortier house had been Kole's assignment and with Shera in pursuit of the demon and the third reaper busy with their own duties, it was up to Kole and his subordinates to deal with finding the girl and examining this book.

"Well, tracking her isn't out the question." Royal said. "But that seems a bit creepy doesn't it?"

"Besides..." Started Keera, covering for her colleague. "...it's in our opinion that the book should be our priority."

Keera shot Royal a sideways glare, to which Royal responded with a sheepish smile. Kole folded his hands on the desk. The Reaper was clearly unamused with his subordinates.

"I suppose I could give the book to Tibias." Kole said. "That man could make some sense of it."

"That'll work." Keera smiled.

"Can I see it?" Kole asked.

"Of course." Keera reached into the bag of evidence and grabbed the book. Without a moment notice, she handed it over to Kole.

"Uh... Keera."

"Yes, Kole?"

"I don't believe this is the book." Kole held up the book that Keera just handed him. Unlike The Art Of Demon Whispering, this object seemed to be made of cardboard. The title written on it was The Art of Danish Whispering. Beneath the title was a crudely drawn devil eating a pastry. Keera gritted her teeth with annoyance. It was at that moment that Kole and Keera realized Royal was no longer in the room.

"Dammit, Royal!" Keera scowled.

Kole chuckled slightly as he put the fake book down. "That fool. Does he really think he'll get away with that? Anyway, would you please hand over the real evidence, Keera."

Keera nodded. She reached into the bag again, and this time the real book found it's way to her hand. She gave it to Kole and hastily began to make her way of the office.

"Eager to get out, I see." Kole said.

"If you don't mind, sir." Keera replied. "I'd like to return to my apartment."

Kole thought for a moment. "I supposed I could dismiss you for the night."

Keera was gone soon after Kole finished that sentence. Kole found himself alone in his office and all the shadows seemed to grow darker. It was at moments like these that he felt the most human. Of course he wouldn't truly have emotions to express, but it seemed better to consider it in loneliness than around his various subordinates. Kole's favorite part of the job was the execution of criminals, so his office always felt like a place that didn't belong to him. He certainly wasn't a desk man like Tibias.

That reminds me. Kole thought to himself. I have to pay Tibias a visit. I wonder where he could be at this hour.

Kole stood up from his desk and headed for the door. As soon as he opened it, Tibias was standing there startled. They had both meant to pass through the door.

"Mr. Tarrant, I..." Tibias stuttered.

"Save it." Kole stopped him. "I was looking for you anyway."

Kole shoved the book into Tibias hands.

"What's this, sir?" Tibias said.

"Just a little something that Keera and Royal found at the Fortier's. I need you to analyze it."

"Will do." Tibias smiled. "I suppose you were just leaving."

"Yes." Kole mumbled.

"Then let us walk home together." Tibias said. "Dangerous streets and all."

"Just don't slow me down." Kole smirked, patting his partner on the head.

The two men left the office and began to head for their respective homes.

Back to the Fortiers'

Trouble started as soon as the office door closed behind the pair.

“Keera,” the blond man wheedled, “it only takes one person to look over an abandoned apartment.  Why don’t you just go without me?”  Royal wasn’t lazy, but he could tell when he wasn’t needed.  Why should he waste his efforts on redundancy?

The red-head was tempted to let Royal go back to the pub.  It wasn’t that she hated the man; he was a decent, albeit annoying, fellow.  Yet, she still couldn’t stand the sight of him.  The prankster’s last practical joke had left her irate and embarrassed.  It had been several weeks and she still hadn’t forgiven him, not that he had apologized.  Even more tempting was the opportunity to fly solo, without Royal’s weight as baggage.  She wasn’t often allowed to fly, an activity which, in the days before her servitude, had been her passion.  Keera fondly remembered long days spent soaring in the sky, playing tag with the clouds, her white wings glittering in the sun.

The young woman snapped herself back to reality.  Her life had changed with her wing color and the choice to bring Royal along wasn’t hers to make.  Kole had issued an order.  She didn’t want to deal with his discipline, not for that howling hyena.  And, there were authorities above Kole that struck far more fear into her heart.

“Forget it,” Keera snapped.  “As much as I hate having you along, I’m not taking the fall for you if Kole finds out you ditched.  He put me in charge, remember?”

“I remember,” Royal replied, oddly calm.  “We should probably get him checked out by a doctor.  His mind must be starting to go.”  Keera rolled her eyes.

“You should just hope that I don’t drop you.”

“I’m sure that would make Kole very happy.”

“After your earlier shenanigans, it probably would.”

“Always the charmer, Keera.”  She didn’t humor him with a reply.  It wouldn’t have wrinkled his calm anyway.  By now the pair had made through the winding passages of the council building and was finally out in the open.  Keera surveyed the darkened sky, judging the weather patterns at the various altitudes.  With the sun down, she would be hard pressed to find an updraft.  Altitude would have to be gained the hard way.

“Are you ready?” Keera asked brusquely.

“To plummet to my doom?” Royal asked with a sarcastic grin. “Always.”  Keera grabbed him beneath the arms and took off into the air.  Her wings strained with the effort of raising the additional weight, but the pair slowly rose higher.  Keera circled as she rose, reminding herself of the lay of the city before heading west towards the Fortier apartment.  Although the extra baggage was annoying and made any aerial acrobatics out of the question, Keera still enjoyed feeling the wind on her face, rushing through her hair and beneath her wings.  This was living.  As the desired apartment building came into view, mischief seized her imagination.  In an instant, she threw herself into a vertical dive, crashing sharply down towards the apartment balcony and laughing wildly.  Royal started to fidget panicky beneath her.  At the last moment, she pulled out of the dive and landed gently on the Fortier balcony.  She scrutinized Royal, hoping for some flash of fear and anger, a sort of retribution for his own actions, but, as he always was under pressure, he remained calm, albeit slightly rumpled.

“Well,” Royal said, brushing himself off, “That was interesting.”  Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Keera proceeded into the apartment.  Although she had been there earlier in the day, she hadn’t bothered to look around.  She and Kole were only responsible for the killing.  Everything appeared to be where they were left: the salt, the bodies.  She wandered into the kitchen, shockingly normal after the carnage of the other room.  A book on the counter caught her attention.  It was probably just a cook book, but she decided to investigate anyways.  At the sight of the large black book, shivers ran up her spine.  The book was all too familiar.  In silver script across the cover was a title Keera remember with dread.  The language was unpronounceable, even by someone who knew the languages demons, but the meaning was clear: The Art of Demon Whispering.  It was only the most dangerous book on demon summoning in existence.  How did a mortal obtain a copy?  Carefully, Keera opened the book to the title page.  There, emblazoned in red, were the words “Property of Deus Ignegena”.  The phrase was obviously Latin, but Keera didn’t know what it meant.  Not for the first time, she cursed the replacement of her knowledge of the elevated tongues with the arcane ones.  Blasted demon.

“Royal, get in here!” Keera yelled at her temporary subordinate, who was still on the balcony.

“Keera,” Royal’s tone was serious, “I think you should get out here.”  Grabbing the book off the counter, she returned to the balcony.  Royal seemed puzzled and slightly anxious.  “I don’t know who was here after you and Kole, but, whoever it was, they used a fair bit of magic.”  That was interesting.  It hadn’t been a member of the Council; Kole had been certain of that.  And, she would need to be a powerful magician, of any sort, if the residual magic made the ever calm royal nervous.  Yet, she had left the dangerous and powerful book sitting on the counter.  It was all interesting and unnerving.

“Come on,” Keera said, shoving the book into Royal’s arms.  “Kole and Tibias are going to want to hear about all of this.”  Grabbing him under the arms once more, she took off into the night.

Discipline

     “I shall be right back.” Tibias exclaimed and rose from his ornately decorated desk. “"I just cannot stand this anymore. If it is going to be a long night, and indeed it will be, I shall require some reasonably hot tea. I am sick of the cold that surrounds you two" .” He picked up the teapot on the nearby shelf, which was also vivid since it was on Tibias's side of the room, and strolled out the door, in the direction Kole assumed of the kitchen down the hall.

     As soon as Kole's eccentric partner left, Kole turned his thoughts to his subordinate, Keera. He didn't think anybody else would see the steady rise in the number of demon appearances. I knew she was clever He thought to himself But I can't let her onto my suspicions yet. I need to confirm them first. Plus, I am not a fan of tools knowing more than they need to. Speaking of tools... Kole did a mental grunt of irritation and turned to his underling.“Keera, we need to find your inept coworker.”

     Keera scowled from the desk that she was sitting at. She looked up from a couple sheets of paper she was currently sorting. “Really? We just got back. I know Royal is a bastard-much like yourself-but when he returns, you can yell at him then. Why waste all that energy hunting him down?” At that moment, a scene played out across Kole's mind. There was a girl in a dark, yet very familiar apartment building fidgeting with something right in front of her face. She seemed to hold a small expression of shock. The girl was in a black leather coat and had a very short pink and blue hairstyle jutting out from her head in a way Kole found mildly amusing. Soon she turned her attention away from whatever it was she was looking at and moved away. The vision then vanished. Kole audibly sighed. 

     “Because, Keera, I unfortunately need you two to perform a task for me. Besides, whoever said we needed to go anywhere?” Keera rolled her eyes and mouthed some words under her breath which Kole assumed meant to be some sort of derogatory jibe at himself, so he ignored her. “Get the lights Keera.” She grumpily arose from her comfy seat and flicked the light-switch off in an exaggerated manner and went back to her seat. Now the only illumination was coming from the windows that were almost unearthly clean thanks to Tibias. The sun was setting and caused the entire room to be engulfed in sunlight which created long shadows that bathed the room. Starting to feel a bit more comfortable in his favored element; Kole relaxed a bit. This was now his element, and here he was all powerful.

     Looking around the room, Kole gestured and sent out a bit of willpower, causing the shadows around the room to waver and draw closer to him. Exerting a little bit more effort, the shadows disconnected from whatever object that was casting them and congregated in a ring around him, like eager pets, waiting for a treat. Kole then cast into the shadows a mental image of the person he desired along with a single command, Find! The shadows went rocketing off at an unearthly speed away from him and charged out of the slit under the closed door. There was a muffled 'Bloody-!' come from outside the door where the shadows just left from. Kole walked over, and pulled it open, revealing his colleague Tibias frowning up at him, with a tea kettle emitting steam.

      “Jesus! I can't leave you alone for five bloody minutes to boil some water!” Tibias moved back into the room and shivered! “Those shadow beasts of yours almost gave me a heart attack!. God, I hate it when you work that mojo, it feels like the room temperature dropped by ten degrees!”

     “Sorry.” Kole replied, in a very non-apologetic tone and went back to his desk.

     “And look at this room now, it looks so damned skewed without all of the shadows here to take up some space. It ruins the aesthetics!” Tibias gestured to the rest of the room. Indeed, all of the shadows except for Tibias's and Keera's shadow now seemed to be missing. Tibias was looking intently at his desk which now cast no more shadow. After a while, he eventually stopped scrutinizing the room, sighed, poured himself a cup of tea and sat himself down at his now shadow-less desk in resignation when suddenly he lifted his head in sudden realization. “Oh dear Lord, you have me talking like a dandy!” He sighed. “I need to get out of this office if the only thing I can find wrong with a room with no shadows is the aesthetics.” Changing the topic, he looked up at Kole. “So, are you trying to find your missing minion? Concerned for his safety?” Tibias joked.

      “Not in the slightest.” Kole replied, ignoring the obvious sarcasm in his room-mates voice. “Someone activated the glyph I placed back in the Fortier residence. We only left a couple of hours ago, so either an unfortunate friend of the family stumbled in onto the scene before our clean-up crew got to them, or it is somebody involved with the summoning. It was a girl that looked of questionable repute so it could be either one.” Keera's eyes looked up, interested in the fact that Kole was actually sharing information with her and his teammate. And she knew that when Kole shared information, she better listen. “So I am trying to find my missing assistant and have him accompany Keera here to the Fortiers abode. I will have to lecture him for deserting us afterwards.”

      At that moment, one of the shadows that Kole sent out, a shadow of what appears to be a small desk-lamp, came flying back into the room and circled the floor around Kole's feet. Kole couldn't help but grin at how much delight the shadows got out of serving him. Tibias was eying it while sipping his tea, feigning disinterest. Kole reached down and touched the shadow. For the second time in the same day, his mind flooded with images. This time, the images were of a narrow street that was poorly paved and a sign that said “Rochefort's Pub: Food, Beer, and Spirits” Kole recognized this place as a bar only a little bit down the road from here. It was a place where he sometimes ate and drank when he felt like engaging in those activities. Inside the pub he saw the figure he was looking for, talking with a couple of young ladies, obviously trying to flirt with them. The man was of normal stature and was was covered with freckles. The image ended there. “Got you.”

      Kole said with a smirk. “He's close enough to shadowport to.” Kole straightened himself and let the little desklamp shadow resume it's rightful place on top of Tibias's desk. “Tibias, may I borrow your shadow for a moment? The others haven't returned yet”

     Tibias sighed and arose from his desk, forced to put down his cup of tea that he was thoroughly enjoying in this chilly room. “Make it snappy.” He said in an irritatedly. “I absolutely detest the feeling I get when you use my shadow.”

    “I will be as quick as I can.” Kole said and headed for Tibias's shadow which now stretched across the entire floor. When Kole stepped into his partners shadow, Tibias shivered a bit and muttered something about goosebumps. Wasting no more time, Kole let his body dissolve into shadows and into the darkness. Finding with his senses another shadow near where he wanted to be, he reformed his body there and emerged out of the shadow of an alleyway right across from the pub. With an act of will, he dispersed his scythe back into the shadows and entered the pub.

     Royal was still there, and hadn't seen him yet. There weren't that many patrons in the bar since it was still in the early evening, but nobody really noticed him. Kole had a way of blending in. Although he did note with a mild amount of surprise that the bartender did in fact look up and watch him enter the room. Even Kole found his steady bartender gaze unnerving so he put on a small smile and nod and walked over to his target. He was talking one on one with a mousy woman with long dark blonde hair and an Irish accent.

     Royal only noticed him after Kole walked up behind him and cleared his throat. The freckled man jumped suddenly and reached for the gun in his shirt pocket which Kole had already placed a hand over. “You are needed. Come.” Ignoring the mans protests, he grabbed the other persons arm and dragged him to the bartender. Talking over the others shout's, Kole handed over a fifty dollar bill to the bartender with the unnerving stare and then dragged Royal out of the pub and into the nearest shadow.

     They reappeared in Kole's office without much of a bang. They simply walked out from the nearby shadow of the desk which had by now returned. Kole tossed the man to the ground, created another scythe out of the shadows, and placed it at his neck. “What gives?” The man shouted. “If you asked I would have come with you willingly.”

     Tibias chuckled a bit. “Certainly Royal, you know that Mr. Tarrant would have found that not nearly as dramatic, whatever it is he did.”

     “Thank you Tibias,” Kole said dryly. “But I did not ask for your input.” He turned to his subordinate with a scythe at his throat. “ Now, what I am really wondering is why we had to resort to our backup plan to handle the demon, which might I add, had got away?”

     Royal turned and faced him with gleaming eyes. “I thought Shera could handled it so I went to the nearby pub. I obviously wasn't needed. After all, there is a reason you guys are called Reapers.”

     “What were you even doing in the pub?” Keera interjected looking up from her papers. “You don't even like humans.”

     Before Royal could respond, Kole pressed down on the scythe a little more. Any closer and it would have been breaking skin. “Enough Keera, and that may be so Royal, but I wanted her to be a backup plan due to her destructive nature. If you had handled things, It might have gone a lot smoother, and who knows, we might have been able to kill the demon. Something weird is going on now and you might have prevented it. You basically gave me extra work. And I do not like more work.”

      Royal finally lowered his gaze, knowing he lost the argument. “I am sorry Kole, I am at fault.” He said this through a mild mannered disposition that revealed that although he still thought he was in the right, he would just about say anything in order to get out of the situation.

      Kole removed the scythe anyways and let him get up. “Royal, I have killed people for doing far far less annoying things than what you have just done. Know that you are lucky.” Kole paused a moment to let that sink in. After a few seconds, he continued speaking. “I would lecture you more but as of right now, I need you both to perform a task for me. Royal, Keera, I want you to get back to the Fortier apartment as soon as possible. Keera, can you carry him if you fly?”

  

     Keera gave a repulsed look at her coworker. 'I can, but do I have to?” Royal in return flicked her off.

     “Yes”

     Keera grunted in begrudging acceptance. “All right, fine.”

     “Also, Keera, You're in charge” Kole then looked at Royal with as much of a glare as he could muster, which was actually quite a lot of glare. “Royal, BEHAVE!” His two subordinates left the room, giving each other glares. Within the first fifteen seconds he heard an argument break out between them as they were going down the hall.

     Tibias just sat there, drinking his tea and watching the whole event. “I say, you do seem to have the most horrible time controlling you subordinates.” He said with a grin on his face. He then got out another mug “Tea?”

     For all that Kole didn't like about Tibias, his sarcasm being one, and his British accent being the other, he thought that his colleague wasn't all that useless. “Thanks.”

     “I have a feeling that soon we will be living in quite more interesting times than we are now.” Tibias said while pouring the tea for his partner.

    “You noticed that too, huh?” Kole asked.

    “Well, as a soul-seer, it is my duty to be informed, but alas, I don't know much this time around.”

    “Well then, weren't you complaining about how tonight was gonna be a long night? Let's do some research.”

    “Indeed.” He replied while handing the other mug to Kole. “Cheers.” He added before taking a sip.

     Kole nodded to Tibias and sat back down into his desk. “Let's start by talking to the psychics.” Tonight will definitely be a long night.

The Shifter

Throughout the streets of Boston, things remained peaceful among the humans. The day was overcast, but not of foul weather. It was just the right temperature to be going about one’s day in a light jacket, and that’s just what Carahya was going to do. She trotted down the steps of her apartment complex and threw the jacket on. The style she bore today was similar to what she wore on most days; a pair of khaki-colored, sturdy cargo pants framed her black combat boots, and a fitted black tee shirt hung loosely about her lithe frame. Her eyes shone an unearthly blue, and her short, pixy-cut hair was blue and purple this week.

After buttoning her broken-in leather jacket and strapping on her helmet, she slung her leg over her beloved bike. She had bought it used for a cool $2,500, which was a deal for a 2011 Kawasaki Ninja 250R in such good condition. The bike was a metallic royal blue that would have complemented her hair well, had it not been hidden completely beneath the full-face helmet. Not that she cared much about her hair color, really. She’d change it again soon enough.

Carahya donned a pair of leather gloves and took off on her Ninja. The way she drove, there’d be no problem getting to her destination within minutes. The apartment she was going to was more in the downtown area, but she knew all the best back routes and alleyways so that she could make the trip without much fuss from local law enforcement. As she traveled, she noticed that a crowd had been gathering around the bank a few blocks down from her boyfriend’s apartment. She thought nothing of the wreckage that surrounded it. She shrugged it off as a demolition (she really had no care about the bank or about demolitions in general) and continued, bike whirring, to the apartment.

After parking her bike in the building’s garage and stowing her helmet, she jogged up to the second floor. With an exasperated sigh she pulled out her key to the family’s apartment. Putting it in the door, she listened for sounds that would tell her that her boyfriend was, in fact, at home. Hearing nothing, she knocked on the door and called out.

“Hey! It’s Cara. Is Justin home?” Again, there was no response, which was strange. The family’s car was outside as it always was when they were at home, sitting contentedly in its usual spot in the parking garage. “Justin? I’m coming in!” she told the door, and whoever might have been listening from the other side. She twisted the doorknob and peered within. “Hey, Lucy, you there? Morgan? Derek? Hello?” Carahya walked through the doorway and closed the door behind her. There was no way that the family was out; something was wrong here. All the shades were drawn, all the lights were off, and only small slivers of light were able to break into the room. Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and she quickly scanned the room for signs of the apartment’s inhabitants. A large black tome, oddly out of place in the urban-style apartment, sat lonely on the kitchen area counter. Its pages were old and fragile, and almost flaked apart when she so much as touched a finger to them. The title was written in shining silver script, in some language Carahya didn't understand. She gently flipped it open, and found the bookmark hidden between two pages heavy-laden with images of demons. She shuddered, closed her eyes, and slammed the book shut, hoping that she would not find one of them still in the apartment. She cast her eyes downward and made a sweep of the rest of the living area. As soon as her eyes made contact with the stained, carpeted floor, she knew exactly what had happened.

There, sprawled at awkward, unnatural angles in pools of dark crimson blood, were the bodies of the Fortier family. The lines of salt scattered about them and the tome on the counter top told Carahya instantly that there had been a demon summoned. Her mind denied the facts that she saw and Carahya had to move closer to inspect the bodies. Three of them had animalistic wounds, while Mrs. Morgan Fortier had only a single clean cut across her neck. She had crumpled almost in a fetal position, knees still to the ground as they were just before she died. Her torso rested awkwardly on her knees. Her head, the sight of it was almost too much for Carahya to look at. The slice to Mrs. Fortier’s neck was deep enough to cut straight through skin, veins, and muscle, leaving her head lolling about at her back, only partially still attached.

Mr. Derek Fortier was almost unrecognizable from his wounds. Claw-like slashes ripped through his face to hit the bone of his skull. A gun lay just a few feet from his hand, which bore five broken, bloody fingers. His leg was broken as well; they were twisted beneath his torso in a way that implied that it had also been dislocated. The leg was adorned with several scarlet stripes of blood, claw marks that grazed the victim as the leg was yanked from its socket. Blood spatters covered his shirt, and the floor around him was puddled with his blood. Something had trailed through the puddle and made its way over to where the other two bodies were.

Justin, nineteen years old, and his sister Lucy, a mere seven, lay completely sprawled on the floor. The beast had obviously torn into them both the same way. What was left of their organs was spilling out over their ripped-open torsos. Their faces were covered in blood, and the red stains had caked into Lucy’s light blonde hair. Their arms and legs were bruised from where the beast grasped them, and small half-moon incisions from the demon’s claws were left impressed into their skin near the bruises. This proof of the demon’s tight-clasped grip showed Carahya that there was no chance for them to have escaped it alive. After all, they were only human.

The sight of them shocked her, and she scanned the room again to be sure there was nothing that she had missed. Sure enough, suspended in the wallpaper, was a large, black rune. It shone with darkness, if that was even possible. Yet, there it was, brilliantly black and symbolic of nothing that Carahya knew about. Intrigued, she approached it and slowly reached out a finger to trace the shape. It did not give any response. So, Carahya followed the demon’s bloody footprints and let herself onto the balcony to think. She spied a small feather on the balcony, and picked it up, just to have something in her hands to fiddle with while she processed what she was feeling. The feather was soft and downy, fluffy and…purple. A purple feather? Carahya thought to herself. First I find my boyfriend and his family mutilated in their apartment, now I find a purple feather on the balcony? This makes no sense…

She flicked the feather from her hand and watched it drop to the ground below. She glanced around quickly to make sure nobody was looking directly at her, and she shifted. Her bones screamed within her, but they bent and reformed to her will. Her skin tone changed, becoming less pale than usual. Her hair rapidly grew from her head, burning the pores of her scalp with a sizzling tingle. The color shifted from blue to mousy brown, and the length stayed at her shoulder. Her eyes became hazel, stinging briefly, and her lithe form became the plumper, curvier form of Mrs. Morgan Fortier. She still wore her leather jacket, black t-shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots, and they still managed to fit the new body remotely well. Carahya sighed. She had to get used to the pain of shifting one of these days. If nothing else, she’d be screwing with the human forensics specialists and their witnesses and timelines with this form. She smirked, hiding her grief, when she thought about the demon that had killed the family. She didn’t think that the same being that killed Derek, Justin, and Lucy also killed Morgan. Her death was too neat to have been performed by a demon, it was certain. She picked up Mr. Fortier's gun, tucked it into a pocket within her jacket, and decided to leave the building to find something else to do with her day. The Fortier household was just too much for her right now.

Just a Job

The cold and damp hallway greeted him as an old friend as he walked down it; his boots making a slightly sickening hollow thump each time they fell upon the decaying wood of the floor. He dragged a rough hand against the dingy wallpaper, peeling away from the cracked horse hair plaster. He was sure the raised trim that followed the same path he did was coated with lead paint that had once been red, but was now fast fading into darkness.

He turned the corner and was greeted warmly by a pink door with two fading names painted on it. A third; slightly below, and in a different hand, was fresher. He smiled a bit at his own title and opened the door. The office was well lit and cheery; he liked it that way. Everything was colored with warm golds and deep reds. His own desk, being stained cherry, was stark in contrast to the other two in the room, both of which were a muted and fading black. He hung his jacket on the hook situated behind the door and sat at his desk. He noticed something different, and stood up to investigate. He picked up the golden triangular shape that had the words:

“Tibias Emerson Sharpe”

Tibias smirked at the gift. He was sure that his colleagues had not given it to him; they were, to put it bluntly, bloody arseholes. Not that it was their fault; but Tibias sometimes wished he could work with, well, humans. He walked over to the small teapot on a table near the dark window and poured himself a cup of cold tea. "Fuck, I'm going down, I'm going down!" The voice dripped from the cracks in the old horse hair plaster that no one had even bothered to wallpaper, even when the building was new. Tibias jumped and promptly dropped his tea.

"Sod it all!" he exclaimed as his favorite red vest and slacks were soiled with the day-old tea. He turned as the voice was brought into a near solid body of a man standing, yet not looking at Tibias, but through him. The man was short and dressed in the uniform of a pilot.

"I can't see, this is going down! The VTOL!" The man was blubbering now, "The elementals are everywhere! They are attacking me!" Tibias gathered that the man was flying some sort of jet, but he was never very great with technology. Suddenly the man went quiet and calmly stated, "I have taken too much damage to continue, I am going to land." The man was radioing his superiors. Tibias felt a slight pang in his chest, as he realized this man thought he would survive.

Tibias quietly poured himself another cup, hands steady as he gazed at the frightened man. Tibias noted as he walked around him (he had learned rather quickly as a child that walking through these spirits assaulted his sense of morality) that the man was growing fainter and was almost gone by the time the old pink door opened quickly to reveal his partner and his associate.
Without looking away from the fast dissipating spirit, Tibias took a sip of his cold tea and waved his partner in with a casual gesture. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his vest before remembering the tea which had been spilt on him earlier. He sighed.

"What went wrong? I can hear you scowling." Tibias said dryly to the tall man standing in the doorway, who was silent. "Are you going to just stand there Mr. Tarrant? Ms. Trean?" He turned to them, as always amazed at how clean they remained. He was well aware of their line of work.

"Am I going to have to go out again?" Kole asked, hands at his sides, standing perfectly straight. Keera was slightly behind him, hip jutted out in a display of attitude. "You could see something, am I wrong?"

"It was some sort of pilot, nothing to worry about." Tibias shrugged it off, "Did you dispatch the demon?" He already knew the fate of the women and her unfortunate family. He had seen her caducus, the spirit just before death, crying out for mercy. She couldn't see him, none of them could and they were the last hope of a soul who knew its fate, even if the body was unaware.

"We did not apprehend the demon, but there is another reaper after it. I thought it would be more productive to allow another to hunt it while we received news of anything more," he paused, "challenging," Kole stated calmly while walking across the small room to sit behind his desk. He did not speak as Keera continued to her own desk and waited for him to nod before she sat. She raised her eyebrows slightly and tilted her head down as if asking to speak. Kole blinked twice and tilted his head, as if not understanding.

"What is it, Ms. Trean?" Tibias asked, replacing his glasses back to perch on his crooked nose.

"Well, it's just that I have noticed a boom in demon activity this past year." she looked at her desk while she spoke softly, Tibias noted how different she acted in the office as compared to working in the field, "We have had significantly more work than before, I'm sure of it,"

"You are just getting lazy," Kole spoke in such a flat voice, even Tibias couldn't tell if he was joking.

"I may to look into it, who else does paper work around here?" Tibias questioned rhetorically glancing into his now empty cup. He would need a refill.