“I think I drank too much.” A blonde girl slurs her words before draping her slobbering lip across her sleeve. She hiccups and fights back the urge to spew out the hot liquor brewing in her belly. Stumbling away from The Fire Pit Bar, she glides her hand across the moist brick wall allowing it to assist her on her journey. A gust of cold wind spirals in-between her legs and forces her skirt upwards. She sloppily pushes it down and loses balance on her red heels. Landing on a couple of bags of trash, a foul smell plunges into the sky surrounding her face and attacking her nose. She rolls over and begins to hurl up all twelve shots she had greedily downed earlier. Wiping the trickle of bile on her pale hand she looks at it with disgust, suddenly a voice breaks her concentration. “You need any help ma’am?”
A well dressed man, all black with polished shoes, stood before her with an outstretched hand. She blindly reaches for his hand as he helps her up and extends one arm under her belly for support. She rises to her feet and can’t help but smile, he is handsome as all get out. “Thank you for the help, what are you doing in the alley in the middle of the night?” she asks.
“I was passing by to The Fire Pit Bar actually when I saw you laid out onto the ground, it seemed like a lady was in need of help. Shall I walk you home?”
The girl shoots him a smile, she thinks of how his body pressed against hers would feel in a rough entwining night of orgasms and warm flesh, but she fights the drunken hormones and replies, “Thank you but I’ll be fine. I live just down the alley, thank you for your help as well.”
She turns to walk down when her arm is tugged back, she spins around while the stranger grips his fingers around her jaw. “I helped you, now you’ll do something for me, w***e.”
His free hand grabs her shirt and pulls releasing the b*****s onto the ground.
“No, please don’t!”
He pushes his hand over her mouth and starts to pull on his zipper. His action is cut short when a quarter of his head explodes into chunky matter. Pebbles of his skull along with pink grains splatter across the girls face. Shuddering she looks around, to her left stands a man aiming a gun in her direction. He had shaggy black hair and a unkempt beard, he wore faded boots and black pants to match his shirt. Smoke whisps in a moonlit dance out of the barrel, the grizzled man says, “If you value your life leave now, and don’t look back.”
The girl eases back over the garbage and quickly turns to run away. The stranger walks over aiming the gun towards the man on the floor. The man in a suit stumbles to his feet and turns his direction. Through half a mouth it spews, “Drakor, do you ever get tired of fighting the good fight?”
The side of his open wound begins to bubble and puss, thick yellow air pockets swell and explode while new flesh regrows, only with a darker, tougher exterior. Drakor loads the gun into his leather gun holster and reaches behind his back pulling out a rusted sword.
The man rips his clothes off, then digs his nails into his soft flesh pulling it off. The skin rolled back like sheets of cooked lasagna, spilling onto the floor in bloody puddles. He grabs his cheeks and stretches his skin down, exposing his real form as his mask comes off. Bones crack reforming into new, stronger, thicker ones. Spilling intestines and organs onto the ground, a new being emerges from the once human vessel.
A towering demonic beast hovers over Drakor, its hands clench into hard fists, its grey skin swallows the dim orange light illuminating from above. The chest heaves sucking in a breath of putrid air. It bends down expelling a rampant path of hell fire. Drakor crouches and prepares for it as the heat runs above and to his side, licking the sky. He turns to see a red haired girl crouched down in front of him, a widespread wing span coated in coarse feathers shielded them both from the flames. She smiles showing off her crooked teeth and freckled cheeks.
“Just in time as always Kayra, ideas?” He whispers.
“Find water and we’ll go from there.” She replies.
The fire stops spewing momentarily while the beast recovers, preparing to attack once more. Drakor runs past his side kick and swings his sword digging into the beasts throat. It carves in partially but cuts short, the muscle is tough. The demon laughs and grabs the hunter in his calloused fist. Squeezing immensely he then thrusts him through a brick wall. Drakor’s back is pillaged with blows of concrete and hard tile as he tosses and rolls into a kitchen full of confused workers. The staff from the greasy diner flee upon seeing the monster crouch in making its way to the injured man
Drakor sits up and sets his eyes upon a vacated sink of dishwater.
“Bless it!” he yells while the creature hurls its large body in a spearing motion. Drakor rises to his feet and dodges to the side gripping his hand on the back of its neck and shoving it face first into the water.
Kayra appears with her hand out chanting in Latin aimed at the sink. The water bubbles furiously, murky red ovals pop while Drakor struggles to hold it down. Getting the upper hand, it rears its head back roaring in pain. Its face seeps down in gooey layers of sap. Blinded and angry, it swings razor claws slicing through everything in its path. Drakor jumps back avoiding impact. Kayra runs from behind and climbs his back before jumping off his shoulders as a step stool. Extending her wings she begins to rapidly spiral in circles falling towards the demon.
The body is splattered into a slinky of chunky meat and separated bone falling to the floor as the wings hit his body like a hurricane of razors. Its mouth jerks back and forth while the skull dissolves into the ground in a discolored gob of mush. Drakor steps out of the building and picks up his sword, the young girl walks up next to him. He slides the blood stained metal off on his shoulders and crouches down, Kayra climbs onto his back spreading her wings once more.
“Always on time, should I ask what deed pulled you away this time? B*****d almost had me you know?” He asks with a smile.
“It was business as usual, they’re coming out more often Drakor, this can’t be good. What do you think it means?” She responds.
“I don’t know love, but we should prepare for changes. I feel something big might be coming our way.”
Pushing her feathered wings down onto the ground with force, she rises to the sky with a burst of energy flying off into the night together.
