“You hear about the giant demon sightings out in the country?”
“Mate, I’ve got way too much on my plate right now to be worrying about some demon bullying the local farmers…”
“Yeah, but I heard this one was about the size of a house. A real big bastard this time.”
“God, has the government really not figured out how to handle this shit after all these years?”
“They’re bloody useless. By the time they get off their arses, the monster’s either disappeared, or caused so much damage there’s nothing left to do. Even arming the police with heavy grade weapons hasn’t solved anything.”
“I don’t get it… I’ve heard of the occasional demon attack in other parts of Europe, but they’re nowhere near on the same scale as the shit we see in England. They get assaulted, while we have an entire city wiped off the map!”
“‘Blinding Light! City of Birmingham Erased!’ That was the headline I saw. I’ll never forget waking up to the news that day… what a fucking nightmare…”
“I’m so bloody sick of this. Five years it’s been, but instead of getting rid of these monsters, we’ve all just gotten used to them.
We go about our day, as if nothing's happening… until more people are killed in another random attack. Then we 'send our prayers' and go back to pretending like nothing happened… again…”
No matter where you were, the conversation was always the same. Tired people, ranting over the hopeless hell they were forced to live in. With no outside countries willing to help, the people of Britain had been completely abandoned.
The demons were just as elusive as they were destructive and no government wanted to take responsibility for any massive, collateral damage and/or casualties that would result in fighting off monsters they didn't even understand. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, this was Britain’s problem to deal with.
However, the two men, drinking away their woes in a pub, on the outskirts of London, were suddenly distracted by a strange man wandering into the small establishment.
Looking tired and weary, the man sat at the counter as the other patrons stared at him. Interrupting more than just one conversation with his arrival, with his rough yet peculiar appearance.
His plain black shirt, boots and jeans were nothing too garish, but the white coat hanging from his shoulders screamed excessive, not the kind of extravagant attire one would expect to wear on a trip to the local pub.
Still, the coat’s colours were washed out, with dark, reddish stains and tears along the bottom and a hole stripped through the left shoulder. Its filthy state led some to believe this wasn’t just for show. His long, black hair obscured his face, making it difficult for the patrons to confirm his facial features from afar.
He gave off an aura of dread and disdain, leaving the patrons wary to approach him. Ironically, despite his intimidating presence, he was only of average height and build, with no wrinkles to speak of. A young man in his twenties, which only raised further questions.
But, not as many as the final striking detail of his getup, the large sword and scabbard strapped to his back. In these dangerous times, where demon attacks were spontaneous and deadly, it wasn’t uncommon for people to carry around weapons for self-defense, but a medieval style arming sword seemed a little performative.
Even with all the low murmurs of speculation being thrown about upon his arrival, the man simply ignored them and sat down at the bar, waiting to be served. The woman working the counter was slightly on edge, but nonetheless, remained professional.
“Good afternoon, sir. What’ll you have?”
The man raised his head, peering at her through his wild hair and deep black eyes.
“Do you serve tea?”
“Uh…. what?” The server’s brain cracked for a split second. “This is a pub, sir.”
“So, that’s a no?”
“No… I-I mean, yes! We don’t serve tea, s-sir.”
The man looked down in dismay. “…fine, coffee then.”
“Um, okay. I guess I can get you that.”
The server soon returned with a cup of coffee. Black, with a teaspoon of sugar.
“Anything else I can get for you?” She asked.
“No.” He bluntly replied.
The server walked away, sighing with relief. The man barely spoke a word and yet she felt like she was navigating a verbal minefield. As the man sipped his coffee, he inadvertently interrupted the two men’s conversation. The fact that he was sitting right next to them only raised their anxiety.
“Hey, you think that’s him?” One of them whispered to the other.
“Him who?”
“You know… the demon slayer guy?”
“What? If someone like that existed I think the news would have said something by now.”
“They have… barely. They treat him like a cryptid.”
“Oh right, is he related to the demon corpses the police keep finding?”
“Yeah, the ones that look like they’ve been brutally sliced apart…”
“It’s scary imagining anything being able to do that to a demon. Let alone some bloke with a sword. I mean, how is that even possible?”
“I don’t know, but it’s brilliant, right? That there’s someone out there putting those bastards in their place.”
“And you think the guy sitting beside us is our mystery demon slayer?”
“Fits the description, don’t he? White coat. Long hair. Sword.”
The man in the white coat’s entire body tensed up for a moment, overhearing their conversation. He really just wanted to drink his coffee and relax for a moment. The last thing he wanted was unnecessary attention.
“Oh, don’t be stupid! That could be any weirdo with a sword. People will try anything to look tough these days.”
“You think he’s a fake?”
“I think I’ve got to make myself scarce before that big bastard shows up and tears Twickenham a new one.”
Relieved that their conversation had steered away from the topic of the mysterious demon slayer, the man in the white coat was finally able to return to relaxing with his drink. It wasn’t that he was anxious about being discovered, he just really hated dealing with people.
Mere moments after the bar patron headed for the exit, a slight tremor erupted from the ground, with the door slamming open in the patron’s face. Before he knew it, he was grabbed by two men in face masks, holding him hostage at gunpoint. As soon as the other customers realised what was happening, the bar burst into panicked screaming. The tallest of the two gunmen had his arm locked around the patron’s neck, with his gun digging into his temple.
The second, shorter gunman, pointed his firearm wildly in all directions to cover all of his bases, making sure no one escaped his sight.
“EVERYONE, SHUT THE FUCK UP, OR HE DIES!”
The tall gunmen ordered. The people in the bar soon quieted down in response.
“Now, listen up! Just do as we say and nobody gets hurt! Got it!?”
No one in the bar was in any position to argue. As if the thought of being mauled by demons wasn’t already a reason for them to be living in fear for their lives, the heartless criminals, who took advantage of these fears, made life twice as miserable.
With the police focusing their efforts on demonic terrorists, it was easier than ever for petty criminals to slip through the gaping cracks in the law’s surveillance.
“Now! Everyone, get on the floor and don’t move a fucking muscle! If I see even a hint of resistance, this guy isn’t the only one who’ll die!”
As instructed, the men and women of the bar hid underneath the tables, the ones unlucky enough to be sitting on stools at the bar were left to crawl into the fetal position. Humiliated by their own uselessness.
“Alright. D! Go to the counter and take as much money from it as you can!”
The smaller gunman remained still.
“Hey, D! Move already!”
“J... I think we’ve got trouble.” He replied.
The tall gunman looked around the bar, everyone was on the ground, just as he ordered, except for one. Staring up at the TV screen above the drink rack, the man in the white coat was too fixated on the news to even give the criminals the courtesy of his attention.
“Birmingham... “ He mumbled. “Has it really been that long…?”
“Hey, arsehole! You deaf!?” The gunman yelled. “Get on the floor!”
The man in the white coat didn’t budge, except to take another sip from his coffee. As the cup was about to meet his lips, it was shattered by a bullet, spilling the leftover contents all over the counter.
“Get on the floor, or the next one goes through your damn head!”
Taking hostages and threatening the lives of innocents was one thing, the man wasn’t fazed by cowardly, underhanded tactics like that anymore, but spilling the coffee that he just paid for was unforgivable. Now he was mad.
The man in the white coat slammed what remained of his cup onto the counter and slowly rose from his stool, turning to face the gunman from across the room with a piercing glare. It sent a shiver down the burglar’s spine. The man's eyes were cold, filled with a chilling confidence, completely composed in the face of death.
“What are you playing at?” The gunman questioned.
“Robbing a pub, in broad daylight? Pretty ballsy.” The man in the white coat replied.
“Well, I’d say the police are a little preoccupied at the moment.”
“Pardon?”
“Can’t you feel it? It’s coming!”
The man in the white coat paused. The tremors from earlier had gotten stronger and just outside the windows, he could see police cars rushing past.
“The Big Bastard.” The man in the white coat realised. “He’s your distraction.”
“What’s more important: A small time robbery, or a giant demon tearing through little old Twickenham?”
The man in the white coat couldn’t care less about his reasoning and stepped forward.
“Stop!” The gunman ordered. “Another step and I kill this guy!”
The man shrugged.
“A revolver? So, you’ve got five shots left. Well, if you want gunpowder and brains exploding in your face, then go right ahead.”
The gunman hesitated, but to show he meant business, he shot his hostage through the leg instead, causing the man to scream in agony, violently thrashing in the gunman’s grasp, until he dropped him to the ground.
Undeterred, the man in the white coat continued moving forward, one slow step at a time.
“Four bullets left. Wanna waste some more?”
The gunman raised his weapon.
“Who the hell do you think you are!? Get any closer and you’re dead!”
“A real hardened criminal would have pulled the trigger already.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Don’t test me! I just wanted to make a clean getaway! You take another step and I'll shoot you!”
The man in the white coat took another step forward.
“Do it.”
Insulted, the gunman fired his third bullet directly at the man in the white coat’s forehead. His head was thrown back from the force and for a brief moment, the gunman was thrilled to have silenced his cocky target.
His victory only lasted a few seconds as the man in the white coat didn't fall. He stood firm as he raised his head back up. The robbers looked in awe as the bullet appeared flattened on the man’s forehead, with a faint white glow emanating from the point of impact. The man in the white coat peeled the bullet off his face like a sticker, and dropped it on the floor, his skin completely unharmed.
“Three left.” He noted. “Want to call it quits?”
“W-what the fuck?” D asked, dumbfounded.
“It’s a trick.” J reasoned. “He must have a metal plate in his head or something.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” The man laughed sarcastically.
“Shut up!”
The gunman fired his remaining bullets into the man in the white coat, this time aiming at the rest of his body.
The faint white aura appeared again. The bullets struck his chest and waist, with the last only striking his coat. However, the bullets were still flattened, as if they had crashed into a steel wall. Even his clothes were left unharmed, without a single tear.
J and D were too petrified to even attempt to comprehend the power they were facing, as the man in the white coat brushed the bullets off.
“Okay... my turn.”
He lifted his left hand and pointed it like a gun, as a tiny speck of white light glistened on the end of his finger.
“Bang.”
The speck shot forward at blinding speed, stopping just shy of J’s chest. Then, in a flash, the speck let out an intense force of power, knocking the wind out of the gunman, sending him flying out the pub doors and careening to the other side of the street, where he crashed into a parked police car, smashing through the door and breaking the windows as the alarm went into a frenzy.
As amusing as this standoff was, the man in the white coat had created too much of a scene. He needed to leave immediately or risk having to actually explain himself to the pub goers.
Once he headed for the exit, the shorter guman, D, aimed his gun.
“St-stop, right there! What the hell are you!? Are you a demon!?”
The man in the white coat didn’t speak a word, he simply put the barrel of the gun between his middle and index fingers and twisted it upwards with no effort, like it was rubber. Without even bothering to check on the people he just saved, he exited the pub.
D, was understandably baffled. The man in the white coat was definitely no ordinary human, but he also never heard of a demon that looked identical to a human either. There was always some sort of distinguishing feature, like horns or a tail.
If this man was so powerful and yet, not a demon, then what the hell was he? D’s fear soon turned into curiosity. At this point he had nothing to lose. The police were busy and J wasn’t in any condition to order him around, not that he liked taking orders from him to begin with.
D had nowhere to go, no family, or life to return to and certainly no goals to achieve. After this encounter, however, he may have found one. Who was this man in the white coat? If anyone was in a position to find out, it was D. He caught up with the man, following him down the empty street. Having no interest in pursuing him quietly, he immediately started shouting after him.
“Hey! Just who the hell are you, anyway!?”
The man in the white coat said nothing and carried on walking, as if D wasn’t even there.
“Don’t ignore me! I’ve got a load of questions for-!”
He was suddenly silenced when the man in the white coat merely turned his head. Glaring at him from over his shoulder. D was so caught up in his stubborn curiosity he had completely forgotten how terrifying the man was.
“Take off that stupid mask.” The man groaned.
D complied, revealing his true face. He was young, like he just finished secondary school, with short, messy blonde hair and green eyes.
“Just a stupid kid…” The man muttered, continuing on his way.
“I’m not a kid! I’m eighteen! That makes me an adult!” D retaliated in offense.
“Good. You don’t need me to babysit you, so get lost.”
D was at an impasse. The man in the white coat still scared him, but what if the rumours were true? What if this was the man standing up to the demons? If he let him go now, he may never get another opportunity like this ever again. To discover a way for humans to obtain the power to fight back against the demons. Even a delinquent like him understood the importance of such a discovery.
With J out of commission, he didn’t have anywhere left to go. He’d be on the streets again, back to the monotony and misery of begging, stealing and floating between homeless shelters. The life he would return to wasn’t worth living, so he swallowed his fears, marched up to the man in the white coat and unloaded a tirade of questions onto him.
“Wait! Who the hell are you!? What are you!? What’s with the sword!? What’s with the coat!? What did you do to J!? Was that magic or a trick!? Are you human or demon!? Do you have demon powers!? Where’d you get them!? Can I get them!?”
Irritated by the sudden torrent of questions, the man eloquently responded.
“Go be a faggot somewhere else, kid!”
D was shocked and appalled.
“How dare you…. I’m not a kid! Stop being a cunt and answer my questions!”
“How about you fuck off, before you end up like your friend!”
“He wasn’t my friend. He was just some prick using me to make some easy money.”
“Oh, fuck me…”
The man grew tired of talking and pointed his finger, with a white speck shining on the tip. D froze in fear. He wasn’t used to the people he threatened actually fighting back.
Luckily, before the man could take his shot, the quakes from earlier grew more violent as loud demonic laughter echoed from across the street. The man turned his attention in the direction of the roar of mocking cackles to find a large demon slowly trudging down the road.
It was slightly taller than the two storey houses it passed by. A quadruped, centaur like creature with a lion’s head and the lower body of a goat. The creature looked as if its entire being was made of stone, yet it walked with no restraints to its movements.
A row of police cars and officers all waited for it at the end of the street, at the intersection where D and the man in the white coat stood. Despite their destructive tendencies and complete lack of empathy towards humans, the demon didn’t seem interested in causing any sort of mayhem just yet and was instead, amused by the feeble human resistance, continuing onward without a care.
While D couldn’t figure out what the demon was after, he noticed the man in the white coat was staring it down, like a boxer glaring at his opponent from the other side of the ring, ready for a fight. The officers all gathered behind the cover of their vehicles. They had trained for demon attacks, but even so, monsters of this size were rare and their chances of survival, should they choose to engage it, were slim.
All they could hope to do was buy time and wait for reinforcements to arrive while the citizens were evacuated. Even with their training and resolve, that still didn’t stop them from shaking over the sight of the towering monster looming over them. It smiled gleefully at the tiny humans and their pathetic weapons.
With one mighty swing of its stone arms, it ripped the road asunder. Tearing through the gravel with large fissures that reshaped the pavement with a powerful earthquake.
The men clinged onto their vehicles for dear life, as the earth rose from beneath them. Since they weren’t directly attacked, they managed to survive, but it was obvious from the effortless and smug grin on the monster’s face that they were dealing with one of the most powerful demons ever recorded in the force's history.
Most demons were around human size. While they were still extremely dangerous, displayed supernatural abilities and strong resilience to most weapons, with enough bullets and coordination they could eventually be brought down, one at a time at least.
The officers pulled out their guns and opened fire. From pistols to automatic rifles, all were rendered useless before the monster’s stone plated body, as it slowly drew closer. The men weren’t through yet, they still had one last backup. A trump card for particularly troublesome demons. It was risky and slightly over-the-top, but with the unpredictability of their enemies, they couldn’t take any chances.
Opening up the boot of the police cars, the officers armed themselves with military standard NLAW rocket launchers. The men all ducked for cover as the others fired their rockets, hoping to blow the demon straight back to hell before it had a chance to attack again. The demon was engulfed in a burst of fire and smoke as the rest of the men cowered behind their cars. As the vibrations of the blasts died down, two officers discussed who was going to check on the status of the demon.
“O-okay, rookie. You know the drill…” The brown haired officer ordered.
“I don’t remember giant fucking titans being part of the drill, Michael!” The ginger haired rookie replied.
“Richard, you whiny wanker, just look already, that’s an order!”
“Oh, Christ….”
The young rookie slowly pulled himself up and looked over the rim of the car. As the smoke cleared, Richard’s worst fears were realised. The monster was still standing. The rockets had only left mildly irritating cracks on the demon’s armour. All they accomplished was angering the creature.
“N-no… what the fuck… we can’t fight this… this is insane…”
The rookie’s body had gone completely numb from shock. He was staring death in the face, having already surrendered to his fate. The only thing that snapped him out of his trance was the sudden appearance of a man in a white coat landing on the rim of his car, seemingly out of nowhere.
D was so distracted by the impressive display of explosions that he didn’t even notice the man make a move, even though he was standing right next to him the entire time.
As the man and the monster locked sights onto each other, there was silence. An anticipation that something big was about to go down. The rookie didn’t quite understand what was going on, but his senior officer, Michael, pulled him back down and signaled him to be quiet.
“So.” The man in the white coat spoke. “You must be the Big Bastard.”
“I can sense it…” The demon replied with his deep, echoing voice. “The power I’ve been searching for has finally shown itself…”
As soon as the topic of searching for power came up, the man immediately lost interest.
“Not this shit again…”
He pulled his sword from his scabbard, pointing it at the demon.
“You’re rather confident, human, but there’s no way, in the vastest, wastelands of hell, your kind will ever be able to defeat me. Compared to the usual trash who venture to this world, I am elite.”
“Hard to find a demon who isn’t ‘elite’ at this point…”
The man twisted the sword around, resting the blade over his shoulder, tucked in the tear of his coat.
“Before I claim your powers as my own, allow me to test them first.”
The demon drew back its arm and thrusted his fist forward with the same might that had split the earth. All the men could do was watch in amazement, not at the monster’s fearsome strike, but at the unbelievable sight that followed. The man in the white coat simply lifted his right foot. With that one simple motion, he blocked the monster’s fist, dead in its tracks. The officers could feel the force of the punch and yet, the man didn’t even budge.
“Impossible… how can a human draw out this much power?” The big bastard questioned.
“I get that a lot.” The man replied, as he barely exerted any effort in booting the demon’s fist out of his face.
The man suddenly leapt into the air at a dizzying height, flying over the demon’s head and landing on its back. The monster turned to face the man, who looked back with disinterest.
“Foolish human…” The monster taunted. “If you thought my back was some kind of blindspot, then you are sorely mistaken.”
Opening his mouth, the monster gathered a large amount of energy and breathed deadly flames onto his victim. Unfortunately, the man simply leapt away the moment the flames erupted from its mouth.
“Trying to use my own flames to wear down my armour? How sad. The desperate tactics of a weak creature with no dignity. Unable to fight using their own power. Now, where did you go? You can’t hide from me, I can sense your presence.”
“Well, you’ve got a nice view at least…” The man sighed, sitting atop the demon’s head.
“You dare mock me?”
“Please, your whole race is already a joke.”
“Get off me, you filthy human!”
Before the demon had a chance to reach for him, the man glowed white and kicked himself off the monster’s head, chipping off a piece of his rock solid skull, infuriating it even further. The man landed on the other side of the street, behind the demon, forcing it to turn and face him.
“Now where did you-”
The big bastard suddenly froze in place, overcome with panic by the man’s sudden change in posture. The man positioned his sword behind himself as his body glowed with a white hot aura, his eyes focused like a professional hitman. The games were over, this next attack was designed to kill.
The man turned into a white streak that blazed across the street in a second, leaving the helpless demon no time to defend himself. There was a sudden horrible crunch, partnered with a slash, as the man appeared just behind the demon, in front of the officers.
As the man in the white coat rose from his position and sheathed his sword, the monster’s torso slowly slid off of its waist as it cried in agony, revealing the flesh and bone underneath the stone armour. Its body sprayed blood over the pavement, as the life slowly drained from its eyes. The man ignored the monster’s plight. The creature wasn't even worth mercy killing, leaving it to bleed to death in the middle of the ruined street.
The demon’s wails turned to choked whimpers until eventually, the bleeding came to a trickle and there was silence. Richard looked on in disbelief, almost pitying the monster that had just terrorised him.
As a rookie, he had only heard rumours. Stories from witnesses and from his fellow men on the force, but there was never any solid evidence to confirm his presence, nor were they allowed to formally investigate him, and yet, there he was. The legendary demon slayer, the man in the white coat. He actually existed and his powers were brutal.
“Who…?” Was all Richard could mutter to himself, as the man had already disappeared from the scene.
D, on the other hand, was quick to notice the man in the white coat walking away, down the street. At first he was simply curious, but now he was invested. He had to know who this man was and what his powers were, before he vanished again.
He quickly caught up with him, this time keeping his questions brief.
“What the actual fuck happened back there!?” D asked.
“Go away.” The man replied, still with his back turned.
“There’s no fucking way you killed that fucking demon with that fucking sword alone. Those guys had goddamn rocket launchers and they barely dented that armour! What the fuck did you do!?”
“Piss off.”
“What was with that white glow? I’ve never seen anything like that. Are you sure you’re not a demon?”
The man suddenly turned around, grabbing D by the collar and hoisting him up with a single arm.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, you dumb cunt.”
D was shaken, but kept his resolve.
“What are you going to do, kill me?”
“Maybe.”
“Do it. I’m just street trash anyway. No one will notice I’m gone. I won’t be missed. Do it. Kill me.”
The man gave D a disgusted look, dropped him and left.
“You didn’t kill me?” D called, before catching up to the man again. “I don’t get it, are you human or demon?”
“Listen, stupid. I’m not going to kill some kid in cold blood in the middle of the street.”
“You waiting to lure me into a dark alleyway first?”
“Too bad there aren’t any around…”
“Or maybe the man in the white coat actually has some morals?”
“Will you stop using that retarded name.”
“Then what should I call you?”
“Drifter.”
“Yeah, that’s not retarded, at all.”
“What the hell do you want from me?”
“I want to know who you are!”
“Well, tough shit! I’m not telling!”
“That’s fine, I’ll just follow you.”
Drifter suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Look, I don’t like company, especially stubborn little fuckboys like you. If you want to follow me around like a mentally challenged puppy, fine, but I am under no obligation to take care of you.
Don’t expect me to slow down for you, or save your dumb arse. If you die, it’s none of my concern. That’s your only warning.”
“Wait, you’re really just going to let me follow you?”
“You’ll give up eventually, or die trying. These problems usually find a way of sorting themselves out.”
“Fine with me, but my name’s not kid. It’s Dale.”
“Don’t care.”
“Well, are you at least gonna explain where you’re going?”
“No.”