Episode: 5.2

--- ????? ????? ---

Fire danced around him, captivating him as she always did.

Her warm touch brushing across every surface, devouring all the foul things of the world as she left nothing but the darkest of abysses in her wake.

He tried to move forward, to get just a little closer to the beautiful maiden before him, only for him to freeze as he fell under her awe-inspiring visage.

The maiden smiled at him, mischief in her eyes, and temptation in her every movement.

He opened his mouth to speak, only to stop as the flames stole his breath even faster than it could leave him.

Her touch, soft and delicate, licked against his skin with only the kindest warmth, one he soon felt on his lips as a contentment spread from his chest.

Every ache and pain that tormented him, from his body, to his mind, to even his very soul, was soothed by her embrace, one he never wished to leave.

The goddess smiled into the kiss before slowly pulling back, letting him gaze into her beautiful golden eyes, as he was filled with a hope and contentment he’d never known before.

(YoU ReAllY tHiNk yoU deSERVE HaPPyNEss?)

A chill ran down his spine, as something whispered from the darkest depths of his mind.

(DoN’T mAKe mE LAugH!)

The soothing warmth began to hurt.

His eyes darted down to where the maiden still touched him before rushing up to meet her own.

The goddess gave him a soft smile, one that slowly melted off along with the rest of her face, as she tightened her blistering grasp upon him.

Two hellfire red eyes burned into his own, as he was left staring into the face of death itself.

Panic filled him as his flesh began to blister and boil, as the thing before him sunk it’s fingers down to his very bones.

“There is no running Aiden…” The spirit told him, its voice crackling between smooth as silk and rough as shark skin.

“After all,” She ran the back of her knuckles down the side of his face, a gentle gesture that left his face covered in grievous injuries. “you sold your soul long ago…”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

He tried to speak, tried to break out of her grasp, but once more the air was stolen from his mouth, burning his lungs from the inside out as he lost the energy to fight back, filling him with ever more panic.

“Don’t worry, my love, you never need to fear the flame…” The spirit reminded him, brushing its half bone, half flesh hands through his hair. “Just so long as you remember…”

The spirit once more ran her knuckles along his face, slowly melting away blistered flesh down to burn-bleached bone, and she brought her half-melted lips close to his own.

“Burn the flesh, feed the flame.”

--- Aiden ---

He spasmed awake, as his arm banged against an empty bottle sending it rolling to the table's edge.

“Shit!” He cursed lunging for the rogue bottle, only to give it the final push it needed to cross the edge when his fingers brushed the glass.

He couldn’t help but wince as the glass shattered against the bar's wooden floor, whether because of his fumble, the noise, or his hangover… he didn’t bother thinking about.

“Finally up?” A voice asked from the other side of the room.

“Yeah…” he sighed running a hand down his face as he tried to gain some semblance of consciousness past his pounding head.

“Just a little too much to drink last night.” He half-lied to his best friend, something he was more used to than he was comfortable with.

“Good, I was a bit worried there. You’ve been tossing and turning for the last hour, but…” Amelia’s voice trailed off as she stepped behind the bar counter and into the kitchen in the back.

(Yeah… Waking me during one of those dreams is a bad idea…)

His eyes roamed the bar, searching the various booths for his drinking buddy from the night before.

“You seen Pet?” He called, climbing out of the booth he passed out in the night before, after the liquor finally decided to do its job.

“Yeah, she actually made it upstairs last night.” His beautiful blonde goddess informed him with a gesture to the stairs lining the wall of the bar, as she brought him the nectar of life itself. “It's half-past noon, so you're stuck with the last of the pot.”

“It's fine.” He waved her off, more interested in taking the beautiful brown liquid from her and downing what was left of the half-stale coffee pot in a single go.

“Still don’t know how you can do that…” Amy grimaced, barely keeping herself from flinching away from him before he finally pulled the pot from his grinning lips.

“Family secret.” He explained, before his eyes fell longingly on his empty cup.

“No.” Amy answered his unspoken question. “That was the last of it.”

“Damn…” He sighed, before setting the pot down on the bar counter.

He rolled his shoulders, working out the kinks from falling asleep at his table, before glancing around the empty bar.

(At least I’m still home, technically speaking…)

Running a hand down his face he tried to wipe away whatever was left of his hangover, already knowing he’d have to drown his migraine with half a gallon of water.

“Any jobs lined up for today?”

“Nothing on my end.” Amy shrugged. “But we need to restock on…” She glanced over the half empty wall of liquor behind her, before sighing. “everything.”

“Damn it…” He ran a hand down his face, before glancing to the side. “What about the money from yesterday’s exorcism?”

Amy shook her head. “Barely covers Pet’s repairs, and that’s not including the fact that you’re almost out of Spell Shots.”

(Shit…)

“I hate to say it, but you might have to ask Ash for a job.”

He winced. “No other options?”

“Unless you can find a B-Rank paying job in the next three days? Nope.”

“Gah,” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s just I hate going to her every time it gets rough around here…”

“I know, but she always needs a competent Hunter and we need a paying job.”

He knew that but asking his cop friend for a job… just didn’t sit right with him. It meant he had to follow proper procedure, as well as a number of rules that just got in the way because they wanted minimal accountability for their actions. And it didn’t help that he had issues with the cops, (or rather they have issues with me.)

(But if Amelia and Pet need me to, I’ll just have to suck it up.)

A knocking sound decided to rudely interrupt his pity party.

“You mind getting that?” Amy called, as she made her way into the back of the bar.

“Yeah, sure.” He sighed, before rolling his shoulders and making his way to the bar door.

Whoever was on the other side decided to knock again, aggravating his hangover.

“I'm coming!” He called through the door, half tempted to just shoot whoever was on the other side of the door, given how his day was already going.

The knocking continued, regardless of his growing irritation.

With a twitch of his eye, he pulled the door open and caught sight of a brown-haired woman in a grey business suit with a clipboard in her hand. All in all, someone looking to do an 'official' type job for the bureaucracy that constantly screwed him over, such as pounding on the door while he had a hangover.

(You are very lucky Amy doesn’t like me starting violence in her bar.)

With a sigh he reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette, purposely making the woman wait for him to acknowledge her, which he did…

“In case you're part of the illiterate 5% of this country,” He gestured to a sign next to the door, “the bar is closed until three.”

…if rudely.

The woman glared at him for a moment before sighing, “Is this the home of Aiden Caine?”

He gave the woman another once over, and having reaffirmed his previous opinion, responded With, “Depends on which part of the government is asking.”

The woman gave him a dry look. “Child services.”

He blinked.

“Pardon?”

The woman sighed once more before repeating herself. “I’m looking for a mister Aiden Caine, in regards to a child welfare case.”

“Um, okay…” He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh…Yeah, I’m Aiden Caine, but uh, I don’t really have anything to do with any kids…”

The woman flipped a page on her clipboard. “Do you know an Anastasia O’Neil?”

His heart stopped.

“Y-yeah… Is she… is she okay?”

The woman gave him an odd look. “Ms. O’Neil was recently in an accident and is currently hospitalized.”

(No…)

He swallowed something thick in his throat. “Anna … She, um, she had a daughter… Ember…”

“Hence, why I’m here.” The woman pointed out blandly.

(That… that’s not right…)

He ran a hand down his face as he tried to keep his breathing steady. “That’s… Why, why are you here, exactly?”

“Because you are the young Ms. O’Neil’s guardian.” The social worker informed him, as if it should be obvious.

“W-what, no, that, that can’t be right…” He shook his head, before running a hand through his hair.

(Though it’s exactly the kind of thing Anna would pull…)

“I can assure you; Ms. O’Neil was quite clear when she set up her will and other papers, should anything happen to her, you are the first person to obtain guardianship of the young Ms. O’Neil should anything happen to her.”

“And who’s the second?” He asked on some sort of desperate reflex.

The social worker gave him another look, that told him exactly how little she thought of him, before sorting through her papers once more. “The foster system.”

That made him frown. “That can’t be right. Anna, would never leave her daughter to the foster system.”

“She didn’t, she left her daughter to you.” The woman told him pointedly. “You’re the one sending her to the foster system, if you refuse to take custody of her.”

He gave the woman a half-hearted glare, before deflating with a sigh.

“Fucking hell…”