《Demon Hunter Rolland》 DHR: Arc 1-1
Andrea sat alone in the dark alley, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed next to a filthy dumpster. Distant sounds of laughter dug at her ears like nails on a chalkboard, her breath catching in her throat as she choked on her own spittle. She clutched desperately at the pendant tied around her throat, her grandmother''s terrifying words spinning through her head. ¡°He¡¯s worse than anything else in the world, my sweet. Worse than death, worse than hunger, worse than fear. Only use this pendant in the direst of all situations, when all hope is lost¡­ no, when even the dream of hope itself is gone! Use it to crush hated enemies at the cost of your own soul after they have left you without hope of retribution, use it and know that the cost is the death of the world itself.¡± Her grandmother had been old¡­ maybe too old to understand what she was saying. But she had seemed so lucid. ¡°Carry this with you as a weapon of last resort, knowing that whatever hardships you face, you are the one holding all the cards¡­ holding life and death in your hands. You have the power to destroy anything you face now, Andrea, but also the responsibility that it bears. You wear the end of the world around your neck, my sweet¡­¡± And then she had died, leaving the simple leather thong around her granddaughter¡¯s neck, the pendant itself lying innocently against Andrea¡¯s shirt. The sound of laughter seemed closer now, snapping Andrea back to the present. She tried and failed to stop her violent sobbing as she heard a voice shout something in the distance, followed by the sound of rapid gunfire. She desperately hoped against hope that they would all die as she thought about her grandmothers words again. The world was dead anyway. She fought to speak, stammering out the word that the pendant had whispered to her every time she let it touch her skin. No¡­ not the word, the name: Rolland. --------------------------------- He felt the faint tingle in the back of his head that could only mean one thing: One of his markers had been called in. One must always pay ones debts. He summoned one of his slaves and sent it through a portal, turning to wrap up his business here. He glanced around at the dripping shreds of red and green flesh around him, absently chewing on a thick shard of bone that was dripping with black ichor. This would have to do, he supposed. He looked over at the cowering figure in the corner of the blackened cave, walking slowly towards it as it yelped with his every step. ¡°Come, demon. Deliver a message for me.¡± He rumbled to the fleshy figure, its double lidded eyes squinting as its forked tongue roved over its sharpened teeth. ¡°A-anything!¡± The foul smelling creature said in a panicked squeal, a rank fear-smell leaking from its every pore. ¡°Demonic activity in this area is under my jurisdiction. Tell this ¡®Azaroth¡¯ of yours that Rolland the Demon Hunter is coming for him.¡± He felt no need to specify that he was going on a little detour first. The demon shrieked and passed out upon hearing his name, so he began humming a lively tune to himself as he reached out and carved the rune for ¡®Annihilation¡¯ onto the back of the demon¡¯s left eyeball. Rolland¡¯s gaze briefly fell on the cage full of human women and children ¨C the demons had been feasting on them one by one before he had arrived. Returning them to their home dimensions would take too long, and they were probably too mentally scarred to be of use anyway. Leaving them here in this hell dimension would be far too cruel¡­ Rolland briefly considered simply incinerating them; it would be quick, painless, and simple. But he had let too many people die recently¡­ maybe it was time to balance the scales a bit. So he just wiped their minds, leaving only useful memories behind, and let the shadows envelop them as they screamed. There we go, good deeds done for the year. ------------------ The shadows swirled and rippled around Andrea as a bright light flashed in front of her, forming quickly into a beautiful blue haired man¡­ no, this was more than a man, this was an angel! A god! Golden wings reached up high into the air behind the tall blue haired man, his eyes shining amber and his skin a deep burnished bronze. He was by far the most beautiful being that Andrea had ever seen, and she instinctively held her breath as she stared up at him in all his glory ¨C and on top of everything else he was well over twenty feet tall. The angel gracefully knelt in front of her, speaking in a mesmerizing double-bass that left her ears ringing with the sound of far-away music. ¡°What have you done?¡± He questioned her gently, a panicked look in his eyes. ¡°Quickly, mortal, reverse the request while you can!¡± Andrea was stunned. Undo the request? But¡­ wasn¡¯t this the being she had summoned? ¡°R-Rolland?¡± She asked the being in front of her. The angel cringed at the name, his gigantic shoulders hunching inwards. He stared at her for a moment before letting out a melodic sigh ¨C this girl obviously had no idea how to reverse the summons, and probably understood little to nothing of magic itself. ¡°I understand. We shall make the best of it then.¡± He said softly, standing up and glancing around. He looked puzzled for a moment, staring down at her questioningly before spreading his wings and leaping gloriously into the sky. He left the tight confines of the alleyway quickly, noting the presence of a group of men embroiled in combat less than a block from the alley he had just left. Taking in a deep breath, he called upon his stored magic to sense the lay of the land around him. Death¡­ desolation¡­ hopelessness¡­ Instantly feeling relieved, he let himself return to Andrea¡¯s side, smiling. This world was already in bad enough shape that it was doomed anyway. Even if his master ended up hastening its demise there was little innocence left to be lost. -------------------- Again the shadows spun and danced across the dim alleyway, the fading sun overhead providing little illumination deep between the two gigantic buildings to either side. ¡°Hmmmmmmmmmm. Earth¡­ again.¡± The sound of a deep breath being taken, but Andrea felt as if it was coming from all sides of her at once. ¡°America?¡± Another omni-directional breath. ¡°Early twenty first century¡­ but¡­ interesting.¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Andrea nearly fainted as a figure stepped out of the shadow of the adjacent skyscraper along the wall across from her, taking up nearly its entire length and height¡­ the figure so large it momentarily escaped from Andrea¡¯s perceptions. Surely it was an illusion. And then it was gone, as suddenly as it had appeared, and another handsome man was standing across from her. But where the angel was beautiful, like a work of art come to life, this man excluded attractiveness in a rugged sex-appeal. His face was lined with scars which somehow seemed to enhance his features without detracting from his appearance in the slightest. His race was indeterminate, seeming somehow¡­ like a mix of some kind, predominantly Caucasian and Asian if she had to guess. ¡°R-Rolland?¡± She managed to stammer out yet again. The angel suddenly started yelling, ¡°No! Master, please!¡± Before his wonderful voice was muffled. Andrea looked over and saw thick ropes of shadow covering the magnificent twenty foot tall man as he struggled futilely against them, being drawn slowly towards the rugged looking man in front of her. Once the angel was close enough the rugged man casually reached out and tapped a finger against the beautiful giant¡¯s forehead, causing him to struggle even harder momentarily as his amber eyes rolled back in his head. Then ropes of shadow vanished abruptly, dropping the bronze skinned angel on the ground with an earth shaking *thump* as the rugged man turned to Andrea. He smiled charmingly at her, causing her guard to lower despite what she had just witnessed. ¡°Andrea, spawn of Jessica. Jessica, spawn of Amelia. Amelia, whom I brought to this world as a child.¡± He reached out and tapped the amulet on the leather thong, which instantly disintegrated. He didn¡¯t always bother to bring demonic victims back to their own worlds, but sometimes he dropped them off somewhere nearby. And every now and then one of them caught his eye as especially brave¡­ somehow¡­ more worthy than the others. Amelia had been such a one. He briefly considered spitting out his current payload of refugees, but he decided to wait for a while and see what this girl wanted. ¡°Spawn of my chosen, speak your will, for I am indeed the one you seek. The Demon Hunter Rolland, at your service.¡± He said with a flowing bow, causing Andrea¡¯s heart to flutter. His voice was¡­ hypnotic¡­ powerful. Impossible to ignore. Andrea took a deep breath, feeling somehow calmer than she had since the world started ending. ¡°I want you to save the w-world, R-Roland.¡± She managed to say, ¡°And k-k-kill the b-bastards who r-raped and killed my little sister!¡± She was yelling by the time she finished her request, her fists balled up tightly at her sides. Rolland raised an eyebrow, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. He was right to pick Amelia ¨C her bloodline was strong. He could sense what this girl had been through as it rolled off her psyche in waves, and he was impressed by how well she was holding up. Her righteous anger stirred something deep inside him¡­ ancient memories buried deep, forgotten emotions from a time long long ago¡­ ¡°I accept.¡± It had been centuries since his last zombie apocalypse, and he hadn¡¯t had a vacation in decades ¨C this could be fun. The Demon Lord Azaroth could wait. The gigantic angel shifted on the ground, a tear flowing from one amber eye as it gazed up at Andrea, who met its gaze with a determined frown. --------------------- Spade laughed as he sent another bullet into the face of the rotting corpse that was trying to eat his friends face. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s find that whore!¡± He shouted, his troupe having cleared out the alley. He knew the gunfire would draw more biters after them, but the things moved slowly and they could make for the rooftops if things got heavy. His group of survivors had managed to dominate this entire section of the city, securing all the prime weapons, food, and women for themselves. ¡°Are these the men?¡± Rolland asked Andrea as they rounded the corner. He already knew the answer, but she would feel more in control if she could identify them herself, and he had decided that he liked this girl. He wanted to see where she would take things. Spade turned around, his jaw dropping. There she was! ¡°Get her, you morons!¡± He yelled to the crew under his command. But who was that with her¡­ Spade couldn¡¯t make out any features, just a general hulking shape covered in shadow¡­ and then he forgot about the figure altogether. ¡°Here, take this. Use it if you wish, or leave them for me.¡± Rolland said as he suddenly handed Andrea a rifle. Without even thinking Andrea aimed and depressed the trigger, spraying the entire area in front of her wildly as she screamed at the rapists and murders running towards her. The gun had no kickback, strangely, but she could see the immediate effect as clouds of dust started rolling down the alley combined with bursts of light red blood and the screams of the injured and dying. After a few minutes the only sound was Andrea¡¯s hoarse scream as she stopped firing, looking down at the weapon in her hands. The battle was already over, and Rolland stood next to her looking as if he hadn¡¯t even moved. Rolland smiled at her, nodding his approval. ¡°That is a particle beam rifle from my personal armory.¡± He looked over at the buildings across from them, both of them riddled with holes from Andrea¡¯s mad spray of energy. ¡°Give me a moment while I interrogate the dead.¡± It took Andrea a moment to process what Rolland had just said, but she didn¡¯t think it was wise to question him as he moved into the center of the alleyway. Liquid shadows peeled themselves off of the walls, from under knocked over trash cans, and from under the very bodies of the men she had shot. One by one each body was swallowed by darkness, blood and dust the only proof they had ever been there at all. ¡°Hmmmmmmm, found you...¡± came Rolland¡¯s otherworldly voice, echoing throughout the alley. ¡°Andrea. Tell me¡­ would you like to kill the rest of them yourself?¡±
DHR: Arc 1-2 Authors Note: This is the last chapter I had mostly written, but I don''t mind continuing this (slowly) while I am recovering. Basically, as long as this is well rated and is getting a good response I will keep on posting it periodically, but if not I will just drop it and wait until I feel well enough to continue my main series. :D
Andrea shivered as Rolland¡¯s voice rolled over her like a heavy wave, first seeming to come from one direction and then abruptly from another. She had never killed before, and a numbness crept from the back of her skull in a tingling wave as the realization of what she had done swept over her. Her concentration was disturbed as a sudden clattering sound arose from the alley behind her, a dented dumpster tumbling into sight and crashing against a concrete wall. A moment later she saw the beautiful bronze skinned angel craw into view, having pushed the dumpster out of his way as he tried to regain his feet. She looked around, abruptly noticing that Rolland was nowhere in sight. ¡°A-are you alright?¡± She asked the humongous figure as he slowly stood up, one gigantic hand resting on a second story fire escape, the tortured metal bending and squealing in protest. The angel looked at her, a concerned look on his face. ¡°It is you we need be concerned about, mortal.¡± He gave her a reassuring smile, ¡°Worry not about one such as I.¡± After experiencing Rolland¡¯s voice the angel¡¯s was somehow¡­ less impactful than before. ¡°I knew what I was doing when I called him.¡± She said, a hint of righteous anger seeping into her voice. She had never liked being patronized, and this gigantic man had been questioning her choices from the very start. ¡°And my name is Andrea, not ¡®mortal¡¯.¡± The angel''s face grew peaceful is he finally navigated the corner between the buildings (no easy feat, given his size) and knelt on the pavement in front of Andrea. This woman was not as simple as he had assumed ¨C she had obviously not called Rolland lightly. ¡°I understand, Andrea. And given the state of this world your choice may have been wiser than you know.¡± He smiled sadly, ¡°But I was referring to those men¡­¡± He gestured at the blood spattered across the dusty and hole-ridden alley. ¡°Your first kills. Something that nobody should take lightly.¡± Andrea felt her face heat up again, ¡°You have no idea what I have been through, and you have no right to judge me!¡± Her voice rose in volume, an edge of hysteria creeping in, ¡°They deserved what they got, and I would do it again, and again, and aga¡­¡± Her voice abruptly broke, disrupted by a sob that she fought to control. ¡°You did well, Andrea. Take time if need be, and then we deal with the others.¡± Said Rolland, his voice echoing from beside her, penetrating her consciousness and calming her nerves. Andrea took a breath of air, fighting the urge to glare at the angel as she took solace in Rolland¡¯s words. She had done well ¨C she had done what she needed to do. And it had been the RIGHT thing to do. ------------------------ Rolland briefly considered his options. Killing the offending gang of fools was beneath his notice, but saving a world was something he had always found quite difficult. He had tried many tactics over the years, and few had met with lasting success. Saving people as a generous hero (Rolland shuddered inwardly, recalling his misguided youth) only led to reliance, the people who were saved becoming dependent and needy ¨C unable to protect or govern themselves. It led to a system of constant maintenance, and in the end all that was left was resentment on both sides. Better to let a world burn than to do that again. He had no issue with helping people who were ready and willing to help themselves, but they often started making ridiculous requests as soon as they realized the scope of his power. Granting the requests led to dependence, and denying them led to resentment. Better to let them live or die on their own merit. He waited patiently for Andrea to respond, curious at which tract she would take. He was also conflicted as to whether he should raise her sister from the dead or not... the girl was currently a zombie (she hadn¡¯t been hard to find), but if he atomized her body first (destroying the infection) a resurrection spell should suffice. However, he wasn¡¯t sure how Andrea would react, or which choice would be best for her personal development¡­ Andrea thought about Rolland¡¯s question¡­ should she kill them, or¡­ She knew, from what her grandmother had said to her, that Rolland was a monster¡­ but she just couldn¡¯t see it. Even knowing that he might end up killing her¡­ or worse¡­ she just couldn¡¯t bring herself to fear him. As long as she got her revenge, he could have her very soul for all she cared. ¡°I¡­¡± she hesitated, ¡°I want to k-kill the ones who¡­ who hurt Amelia¡­ I want to make them p-pay.¡± She finally said, her voice shaking only slightly as she tried to harden her resolve. Rolland paused¡­ so the sister was named after his chosen¡­ perhaps he would have to revive her after all. He quickly rifled through Andrea¡¯s memories, gaining a sense of Amelia¡¯s personality, and smiled. The sister seemed nearly as spirited as he remembered their grandmother being¡­ he reached out with his will, shadows spreading across the city and swallowing a certain small zombie from among a crowd. He would hold onto Amelia¡¯s animated corpse for now, making his decision after Andrea had completed her revenge. Rolland smiled as he almost decided to simply scoop up the gang of survivors and bring them here¡­ but that would deny Andrea her hunt. ------------------------- When the virus spread many people panicked and attempted to flee the city, which only caused the death toll to rise as roads were jammed shut and packed with easy victims. The first responders, and even the Army and the National Guard, could hardly do anything in the face of the riots and insanity that followed the initial outbreak. Groups of people ran from street to street, indistinguishable from roving packs of the undead to the terrified soldiers who were sent to save the city ¨C and they soon learned that every person killed, weather from the virus or not, would soon rise and add to the carnage. The only way to kill them was to damage the central nervous system: Bullets to the brain were often ineffective. It was the brain stem itself that carried the infection, bypassing any type of higher thinking or cherished memories the host had once possessed. Scientists, when there were such people, had released information about how it was similar to the bacteria which could take over certain insects: and in fact, antibiotics had some limited effect on the infection if it was administered promptly (and in high enough doses). If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. The problem was that it just spread too fast, and very quickly any hope of setting up and maintain antibiotic supply lines was exhausted. The world fell rapidly after that¡­ soon leaving only the lucky¡­ or the ruthless. Byron had been a drug dealer in a previous life, his connections allowing him to get his hands on plenty of stolen antibiotics early on ¨C and it was the antibiotics that allowed him to build up his empire. Thugs would work cheap if he held their lives in a pill bottle, and they stopped being so afraid of biters once they knew he would use his drugs to take care of his own people above anyone else. Rolland watched Byron from one of his many shadows. A resourceful man: Having built an empire like this in a dying world was no easy feat. But Rolland could see into his soul ¨C Byron was a man with no honor, a self-serving fool who thought nothing of the future. Having no use for him, Rolland bonded his mind, driving Byron screaming into insanity as they swapped memories with each other. The exchange was hardly fair. Rolland added a measly few years of experiences on top of his own, while Byron was suddenly faced with eons of death and destruction, pain, mutilation; empires falling and being reborn, only to die out again; glimpses at infinity that no mortal mind could possibly withstand. Byron¡¯s shadow rose up from the floor and swallowed him, disgorging him later ¨C still screaming and tearing at his eyes ¨C into the midst of the zombie horde that Rolland had taken Amelia¡¯s corpse from. It seemed a fitting end, but Rolland payed it little mind as he thought about what came next. There were other captives being held here against their will, and he could hardly expect Andrea to accidentally kill all of them. He wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to expose Andrea to that level of responsibility yet¡­ it could slow things down to an unbearable crawl. Rolland considered just killing them now, painlessly ¨C which would probably be a kindness ¨C or wiping their memories and adding them to his stockpile of refugees. But in the end he wanted to see what Andrea would decide to do: He would present her with a choice when the time came, and then make his decision. Rolland always kept his word. Always. Honor was the only thing more important than destroying demons. He had accepted Andrea¡¯s request, so he WOULD ¡®save¡¯ this world, whether they liked it or not¡­ but the how of the matter was open to a great deal of interpretation. --------------------- Andrea made her way through the horde of zombies, laughing as they flailed uselessly against the force-field Rolland had given her. She swung the glowing blade in her hands inexpertly, disintegrating large swaths of undead with each blow ¨C it was like a lightsaber, she thought, but only if lightsabers caused people (and things¡­) to burst into glowing dust upon contact. She had never felt so powerful, so alive! ¡°Sorry, Grandma, but you were dead wrong! Rolland is amazing!¡± She said to the billowing zombie-dust in front of her. She then raised her voice, looking over at the gigantic bronze angel gently floating a dozen feet off the zombie filled road, his golden wings nearly touching the buildings on either side of the street. ¡°Do you have a name?¡± The angel was pointedly ignoring the mass of zombies underneath him, each of them reaching futilely upwards in a vain attempt to grab him. Andrea wondered if they would even be able to breach his glistening bronze skin. He wore only a simple white roman style robe, tied in the middle with a golden rope ¨C for just a moment she envied the zombies their view¡­ he was simply stunning to look at. Gazing at her, the angel replied, ¡°I am an Ariel, an Earth Spirit of Preservation. We do not have names in the manner of mortals such as yourself.¡± Andrea shrieked as another Zombie bounced off of her force-field, momentarily startling her before she turned and disintegrated it with an awkward swipe of her sword, chuckling at her own foolishness. She had lost herself staring at the angel, momentarily forgetting that she was still in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. ¡°Well, I¡¯m pretty sure Ariel is a girl¡¯s name¡­ so, Preston?¡± She asked. It kind of sounded like preservation, and was definitely a male name. ¡°Wait, no, that sounds too¡­¡± She looked at him again, swallowing her saliva as she took in his startling blue hair above his amazingly well defined features. ¡°Well, it just doesn¡¯t suite you. Presley? Nooo¡­ oh, wait! Elvis Presley!¡± She said. The connection was weak, but the name seemed to suit him, somehow. ¡°Can I call you Elvis?¡± ¡°I have had many names, Andrea, on many different worlds. You may address me as Elvis if you wish.¡± Andrea did a small victory dance in her head as she swung out at another group of zombies. Her arms were starting to get tired¡­ ¡°Tell me about Rolland, Elvis? Why is he your master?¡± ¡°If I tell you, will you agree to consider a single request?¡± Andrea blushed, thoughts of what the request might be instantly skimming across her tired mind. She banished those thoughts, moving towards a van that she thought she might be able to climb up on top of for a brief rest. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll consider it.¡± Elvis was silent for a moment as he glided closer to her, turning his body slightly so that he faced her directly. His flight was surprisingly quiet for such a large being. ¡°Rolland was once a mortal, not so unlike yourself, Andrea. He came from a battered and war torn world, beset on all sides by demons and monsters you can scarcely imagine. He began life as a noble SH¨­KI, a profession named after the Japanese god responsible for quelling Demons. He spent years traveling from settlement to settlement vanquishing supernatural evil wherever it could be found, living off of the generosity of the people he saved. It is told that he was gifted from birth, strong in both mind and body, and the harsh training he had endured since early childhood honed him into a powerful force against evil¡­¡± ¡°Hmmmmmm¡­ enough.¡± Rolland¡¯s voice came broiling out from the alley as his shadowy form seemed to melt out of the wall. ¡°Andrea, I have opened a portal into the lair of those you seek, but I will not join you on your quest for vengeance. You have the weapons and equipment I have given you: Your life, and their fate, is now in your hands.¡±
DHR: Arc 1-3
Rolland considered his options while keeping watch over Andrea. The girl was surprisingly hard, holding up to the events of the last few days more like a trained warrior than a regular civilian. He had been right in his estimation of her grandmother: Andrea likely came from a warrior bloodline with mild psychopathic tendencies, one of those rare groups of people who were able to thrive on stress rather than crumple under its weight. Her ancestors had probably been defenders (or possibly predators) as their primary social roll ¨C not victims. But Rolland wanted to have a few plans ready for the most likely eventualities, as was always his habit. He rarely operated without a series of plans, backup plans, and fail-safes, firmly believing that ¨C just like in the Japanese game of Go ¨C victory belongs to the contestant able to think the furthest ahead. And what was life if not the greatest contest of all? So he planned, first considering the eventuality that Andrea got herself killed or proved to be a disappointment. Discarding a host of ideas, Rolland narrowed it down to a few likely candidates. He could ¡®save¡¯ the world for the creatures in the ocean, eliminating everything on the land ¨C that would be the easiest solution. As far as he could tell, whatever was animating these zombies wasn¡¯t able to survive being fully immersed in water. But that would be stretching his word a little further than he liked. Best to leave at least enough humans alive that they could further propagate. One issue was that he wasn¡¯t nearly powerful enough to kill all the zombies himself in a reasonable timeframe. Even judging that he could kill a thousand zombies a minute, several billion zombies would still take him millions of minutes ¨C nearly a decade. But that didn¡¯t mean there weren¡¯t other ways to accomplish the task. He had several fusion blocks, and if he scavenged parts he could easily build a few dozen respectable sized atomic bombs, as well as unleash the much weaker bombs this world possessed¡­ those could be used to level major population centers ¨C cities would be useless in the new world anyway. He only had a passing knowledge of biology, but if he took a sample to an interdimensional market he could probably have a retro-virus engineered. Or have Nano-bots made for the same purpose¡­ but Rolland disliked these options ¨C neither of them relied on his own power. One of his bound Spirits of Light (a companion of the twenty foot ¡®Angel¡¯) might have the ability to purge the virus or plague from the few people he saved. Rolland himself knew spells that might suffice, but he was unwilling to waste so much time and energy unless there was no other way. And then the Elementals. This world had very little in the way of magical energy (meaning Rolland would have to rely on his personal reserves), but given a few days to setup the proper rituals he could summon a host of powerful elementals, and simply put the task of clearing the rest of the undead into their hands. Earth Elementals to ravage the dead, Fire Elementals to purify them, and Water Elementals to wash everything clean. It had been years since he had last flexed his abilities as a Shifter to reach out and scour the Multiverse for servants ¨C or slaves ¨C to bind to his will. Rolland smiled, nodding to himself; this was his favored option. Now onto the next set of plans¡­ what to do if Andrea survived? -------------------- Andrea couldn¡¯t stop retching, her stomach long emptied of its meager contents, which were scattered all around her. While she was in battle (if you could call it that) she had¡­ not blanked out, but somehow gone to a different mindset entirely. She had been strangely calm, wading through the hail of bullets flying towards her, vaporizing men and woman as they ran at her with their crude melee weapons. Few of them had even understood what was happening before they died, most simply seeing her as an easy victim right up to the end. Maybe if she had visible armor (the Force Field Rolland had given her was contained in a small belt-like harness) or was carrying something that looked like a real gun (her rifle looked like a toy, far too thin and light to be a ¡®real weapon¡¯) more of them would have run from her instead of just throwing their lives away. Near the end some had started to realize what was happening ¨C that they were somehow facing a one-woman-army armed with impossible equipment ¨C and they had finally broken, fleeing from the compound as quickly as they could. There was a small red-light blinking on the Force Field harness, indicating that the charge was dangerously low; Rolland had told her it would only protect her from about twenty direct hits ¨C plus a few dozen more glancing blows ¨C before the battery was empty and she would lose its protection. But she paid it little mind, unable to peel her thoughts away from the sight and smell of so many of the dead and dying¡­ people who she, Andrea herself, had killed ¨C not Rolland, not the Angel¡­ but her. In the alley it had somehow felt different: They had been hunting her for hours, and she knew she had to defend herself to survive. But this time¡­ this time she had made a choice, coming here to kill for retribution, not survival. Fighting another spasm, Andrea kept her eye on the doorway. There were still more out there, and she knew she could ill afford to give in to pity and self-loathing right now. Being a normal person would have to wait: For now, she had to be something else. --------------------------------- Rolland modified his plans yet again. Andrea had done fairly well, but some would have done better: Her performance was impressive only for someone with such a sheltered upbringing as these types of worlds tended to produce, with their relative safety and lack meaningful outside threats. Still, all things considered, he decided to follow the girls lead for now, see where things would go. --------------------------------- Hearing the approach of heavy footsteps, Andrea raised her rifle yet again and prepared to fire as soon as her target came into view. She was exhausted beyond anything she had ever experienced before, running on pure adrenaline as her mind fell into a cloudy haze of apathetic readiness. A bronze tanned form came into view along with the words, ¡°Andrea, I¡­¡± But then she opened fire, scoring a hit on the torso of the angel, Elvis, as he rounded the corner. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Andrea was too stunned to react, dread flooding her as she saw the angel¡¯s tunic burst into flame where the shot struck, Elvis looking at her in surprise. He then quickly patted out the flame, focusing his well and causing a translucent blue half-sphere to spring into existence around him as he inspected his wound ¨C a shallow gouge of flesh burnt out of his midsection, just beginning to swell in response to the heat of the blast. He muttered a few arcane words, passing his hand over the wound ¨C it healed rapidly right in front of Andrea¡¯s eyes as he looked up at her with a smile. ¡°I apologize for startling you, Andrea. It was a foolish mistake born from overconfidence, and one that I shall not make again.¡± He didn¡¯t feel like this simple mortal could be held responsible for her actions at this point; surely Rolland was pushing her beyond any reasonable limit. Andrea fought off the urge to scowl at Elvis again¡­ she had shot him, and he was the one who got to apologize? That was condescension on a whole new level. But she couldn¡¯t exactly get mad at him right now. She had just shot him, after all. She tried to give him a tired smile, seeing that he was obviously quite alright, but failed. He was definitely made of tougher stuff than a regular person, as she had seen this rifle shoot right though the entire building, exterior walls and all. And then she realized he was now much smaller than before, though still somewhat over seven feet tall. ¡°N-no, Elvis.¡± She said, carefully lowering the rifle (she hadn¡¯t realized she was still pointing it at him). ¡°I shot you. I¡¯m sorry.¡± She was far too tired to come up with anything more eloquent than that. Elvis (since the girl wanted to call him Elvis he decided to make a conscious effort to identify with the name) looked around, surveying the obvious signs of carnage scattered about the building¡­ most of the bodies were gone, the gun somehow causing them to disintegrate (or simply vanish) whenever they were struck in (or near) the torso. He knew that Rolland was a Weapon Master who had scoured hundreds of different worlds searching for the most effective and efficient weapons ¨C even one of his cast-offs would be a top notch dealer of death and destruction¡­ and that shot had hurt more than he would have expected from so simple looking a rifle. Wishing that he had a more subtle armor spell that he could cast around himself, just in case he happened to be shot again, Elvis dispelled the telekinetic barrier he had willed into existence while keeping a close eye on the direction Andrea was pointing her rifle. As the blue half-sphere vanished he walked further into the room. ¡°Surely you now suffer great turmoil, Andrea. Would that I could ease your burdens.¡± Elvis said, giving Andrea a concerned look. Again with the condescending crap! Andrea was too tired to scowl, so she just decided to lay back down on the dirty floor, the rifle held across her chest. At the very least the Angel could guard her while she rested. ¡°Tell me more about Rolland.¡± She said. Last time they had been interrupted. Elvis nodded, ¡°Long before his birth, Rolland¡¯s world was one of amazing technology¡­ but also of a deep and abiding hubris that caused it to turn and devour itself. For you see, Andrea, when Rolland¡¯s world fell, when the continents shattered and billions of lives were instantaneously ended, magic re-entered the world¡­ bringing with it countless beings from throughout the infinite dimensions.¡± The angel paused for a moment, ¡°Beings that the millions of¡­ lucky¡­ survivors, with their scavenged equipment and broken civilization, were woefully ill prepared to face. Some embraced technology, fearing anything new relying solely on the hubris of the past for salvation. Some embraced magic, the new way, rejecting technology in its entirety. And some rare few, like Rolland¡¯s descendants, decided to embrace both equally, realizing it would take everything humanity had to push back the rising tide of darkness sweeping across the land.¡± Andrea felt herself starting to drift off, the angel¡¯s voice painting vivid pictures across her mind¡¯s eye. Elvis swept out a hand, gesturing outwards, ¡°A darkness far deeper than the one you face here on your own world, Andrea, but a darkness with small pockets of light scattered throughout. Pockets of light like the Demon Quellers of Japan.¡± The angel¡¯s voice had a certain resonance to it, something that made it both easy to listen to and yet still grabbed your attention in the way few but the most talented of actors and narrators could achieve. ¡°Rolland spent nearly a dozen years roaming the shattered isles of what was once Japan, defeating evils great and small. His profession, the Demon Queller, is an ancient one, with roots trailing through Chinese mythology and lore dating back to, at the very least, the Tang-era of the seventh century. Back to a time when magic still existed, before science held sway over the hearts and minds of the people of his Earth.¡± Elvis paused again, and Andrea found herself drifting in and out of sleep, before his electric voice again grabbed hold of her imagination. ¡°The Demon Queller dances always upon the thin line separating life and death, fighting without any thought in mind but the swift elimination of any supernatural threat mankind may face. They are trained to make deadly enemies of the foulest of beings, studying demonic tactics, learning their strength and weaknesses, turning the demons own devilish tricks back upon the very monsters who seek to prey on all defenseless mortals!¡± Elvis let that sentence reverberate around the room for a moment before moving onto the next, his voice now quiet enough that Andrea had to struggle to hear what he was saying. ¡°For the Demon Queller is schooled in magic, in martial arts, in ancient Chinese secrets that were further refined by Japanese masters over centuries of desperate battles¡­ but also in modern warfare. Trained in the use of plasma rifles, particle beam guns, and grenade launchers alongside magic swords and armor. Trained to use any all methods that can be used to kill their one true foe: Demons.¡± Andrea¡¯s last thought, before she finally fell asleep, was that the angel sure knew how to spin a good tale.