“Hey, uh… Drifter. I know you don’t like the whole talking thing, but you do have an actual destination in mind, right?” Dale asked, as the pair strolled through Marble Hill park in the late afternoon.
It was only a couple of hours after the incident with the Big Bastard and Drifter hadn’t spoken a word since. He simply kept moving forward, with no hint on where he was going.
“Do you even know where you are?” Dale asked again, receiving no answer.
“Well, can we take a break soon? My feet are killing me.”
Still silence.
“I guess when you’re an inhuman freak you don’t get tired so easily, but do you at least eat? I’m getting kinda hungry.”
Drifter suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Holy shit…"
“What is it?”
He quickly looked behind himself.
“Are you still following me!?”
“Is that a problem?”
“I thought you’d lose interest and go home.”
“I don’t have a home, dipshit. It’s either this or go back to begging on the streets.”
Dale’s talk of begging prompted Drifter to check up on his own economic situation. His wallet’s status: empty.
“You might want to dust off those begging skills, because I’m destitute.”
“For real!? You seriously spent the last of your money on coffee!?”
“You mean that coffee I didn’t get to drink?”
“You’re not actually going to beg on the street, are you?”
“No. I’ll just pay a visit to the old cash machine.”
“That’s a relief, there’s a newsagent just up the road.”
As Drifter and Dale crossed the road just up the street, Drifter caught a glimpse of a shadow peeking over the side of a building before instantly disappearing into the alleyway. He quickly examined the small space, noticing a peculiar trail that led toward the back wall.
“Ew, what is that?” Against his better judgement he lightly dipped his finger in the liquid residue and gave it a whiff. “Good Lord… that is the definition of repugnant. Fuck that, I don’t wanna know where this garbage water came from anymore.”
Despite his protests, Drifter could still sense the presence of something nearby and remained cautious. He kept this information to himself, in case nothing came of it and to avoid any unnecessary conversations.
“Dude.” Dale called. “Why are you crouched down in this smelly alley? You taking a shit?”
“Shut up.”
Drifter returned to the street where he found his cash machine.
“This area doesn’t seem too busy… empty even…” He pondered, checking his surroundings.
“It’s usually pretty quiet on Sunday evenings.”
“It’s Sunday?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“Do I have to?”
“I… guess not…”
As Drifter looked over the cash machine, a thought crossed Dale’s mind.
“Wait a minute… Drifter, do you even have a bank account? Do you have a job, or any sort of income? I mean, you’d think the police would be using your card details to track your location or something, right? After the shit you pulled, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were on some kind of watch list by now.”
Drifter immediately kicked in the front door of the cash machine, destroying the lock.
“Did you say something?”
“No… nothing.”
He casually ripped the steel door away and reached into the tray, snatching a handful of banknotes, counting up the money with each one he slipped into his wallet.
“Two grand.” He confirmed. “That should do for a few weeks.”
“I feel like what you just did was highly illegal.”
“Didn’t you try to shoot me earlier?”
“The police aren’t gonna fuck us up for this, right?”
“Well, they'll certainly fuck you up at least.”
“Oh… okay… can we get food now?”
Drifter looked around the street, spotting a restaurant conveniently placed across the road. Nothing too fancy, so he didn’t have to worry about overspending, just a typical pub diner.
“That’ll do.”
Without even explaining himself, he moved out. With Dale lagging behind. Upon entering the restaurant, Drifter was thankful the place was empty, as the pair were quickly greeted by the waitress.
“Welcome. Table for two?” She asked with a smile.
“Why do I still smell shit?” Drifter blurted out.
“Excuse me, sir?” The waitress asked, slightly offended.
“You sure it isn’t you?” Dale sarcastically assumed.
“No, no, this is more the aroma of ‘flies festering in forgotten feces’. Is it coming from you?”
“Pardon!?” The waitress responded. “I’m pretty sure that’s just the rubbish outside, sir.”
“Jesus… did something die out there?”
Although the waitress was reluctant to serve such a rude individual, she remained professional and dutiful.
“So… table for two?”
“No.” Drifter answered. “Just one.”
“Fucking what!?” Dale objected. “What do you mean, one!? What about me!?”
“What am I, your guardian? Get your own food.”
“What!?”
Angered by Drifter’s crassness, Dale was forced to pull out a special trick he saved for just such an occasion. Taking advantage of his youthful appearance and putting his acting skills to work and began his performance.
“What kind of brother are you!?” He cried. “Ever since Mum died all you do is push me around! Call me names and treat me like crap!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Drifter couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of brain disorder was suddenly afflicting this weeping manchild.
“You are awful!”
From nowhere, Drifter was suddenly slapped by the infuriated waitress.
“First you insult me and my restaurant, with literal shit talk and now you’re neglecting your poor, emotional brother!? You disgust me!”
“But, he’s not…”
“There’s no way I’d serve someone like you!”
Drifter looked over to Dale, who was trying to hide the smarmy look on his face. He hoisted the pompous little prick with a single arm, for an intimate discussion.
“Bet you think you’re real funny, you smug cunt.”
“Is this a problem?”
He immediately dropped the boy on the floor. “Fuck this, I’m going somewhere else.”
“Dude, it’s Sunday. You’ll have a hard time finding any other place that’s open at this hour.”
“Goddammit…”
Before he knew it, they were already at a table ordering their food. “I’m not used to dealing with people for extended periods of time. They’re usually either too scared or insulted to hang around me for long, but not this kid. He must have built up a tolerance for dealing with terrible personalities.
I guess when you have nowhere else to go, you learn to make the best of a bad situation. A dumb kid bluffing his way through life, with whatever shitty cards life dealt him. I’d be impressed if he weren’t using those shitty cards against me.”
The waitress returned with their meals, a simple order of a burger and chips. She showed nothing but kindness towards Dale, but shot dirty looks at Drifter, dropping his plate on the table before leaving.
While Dale stuffed his face, Drifter took a more conservative and restrained approach to enjoying his meal. As he ate, his mind wandered and he soon grew concerned over the lack of people in the restaurant.
“There are no other customers, or waiters. In fact, I don’t hear anything coming from the kitchen either. It’s eerily quiet… almost surreal. And that weird presence from earlier… I can still feel it, but now it feels like it’s surrounded the whole building. Something’s watching us… was this a trap?”
The more Drifter thought about it, the more it bugged him, until he got out of his chair and started investigating, leaving Dale to continue eating, oblivious.
He lumbered over to the waitress, who was minding her own business cleaning the tables and grabbed her attention.
“Hey!” He called. “Where the hell is everybody?”
She spun around, slightly shocked. “Oh… well business is usually pretty slow on Sunday nights, sir.”
“Right… Don’t touch my food.” He ordered. “I need to check something, real quick.”
He left the restaurant, immediately stepping into a slippery substance outside. The curb was covered in the same disgusting trail he discovered in the alleyway.
“Oh, god…” He gagged slightly. “More demon… juices…”
He followed the trail back to the cash machine from earlier. It was completely untouched since he last interacted with it. He figured the damage would have at least drawn some attention by now, but no one seemed to have come near the shop in the past half hour.
There wasn’t a single person on the street, which made sense, given the sun had already set, with the evening darkness creeping in, but then he checked inside the newsagent. It was open, lights on and everything, but devoid of any life.
Drifter’s suspicions were slowly escalating, there was definitely demonic activity afoot. He exited the shop, but not before cheekily snagging some peppermint gum, an impulse buy for dealing with all these recent bad smells.
Once he was back on the street, he caught a woman running past the restaurant. She looked distraught, sprinting like her life depended on it.
“Hey, lady!” Drifter yelled after her. “Where are you going!?”
The woman turned to face him, but his intimidating stature only scared her into running faster.
“No… you dumb cunt…”
Drifter’s body emanated a white glow, as he dashed across the street to block the woman’s path in just a couple seconds, as she bumped into him.
“Could you not run away when I ask you a question?”
The woman was scared silent by the man, who magically zoomed in front of her petrified by his aggressive tone.
“Oh God, please don’t!” She begged.
“What?”
“Don’t hurt me! Just let me go home! Please!”
“What the hell are you running from!?”
Drifter’s frustration only made the woman more paranoid, as she was still shaking from whatever ordeal she had just escaped from.
“Dude, are you gonna eat that burger, or what?” Dale asked, exiting the restaurant. “Uh… am I interrupting something?”
The woman locked sights onto Dale, noticing his more, approachable, innocent and less creepy appearance. She rushed over to the young man, holding him close for comfort.
“Please, we have to get out of here, before they get you too!”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Um… Drifter? What’s going on?”
“You’re the one she’s glomping on, you ask her.”
“Uh… hello… ma’am. What’s… up?”
“Smooth.”
“Shut up! I’m not used to girls grabbing me.”
The woman calmed herself down and told them everything she knew.
“They’re lurking the streets… I don’t know where everyone is… I was just walking home when they started stalking me… and I just ran…. Please help me…“
Drifter could already feel their presence all around him. There was no doubt that demons were hiding in the neighbourhood and the oily tracks were their trail.
He headed back inside the restaurant.
“Wait, where are you going?” Dale asked.
“Finish my burger.”
“What about the woman?”
“Don’t care. Leave her.”
“Are you serious!? It’s way too dangerous out here! She’s safer with us! You know? With the guy who can slice titans in half with a single swipe of his sword?”
“If you’re so adamant, you protect her then.”
“Fine… dickhead…”
Drifter returned to his seat where his burger awaited him. Dale sat the distressed woman down, helping her get comfortable.
“Who is that creep? Your friend?” She asked.
“We’re more… acquaintances…”
“Is he always so rude?”
“As far as I know.”
“He’s not a demon, is he?”
“What? Just because he looks scary, acts scary and smells scary, doesn’t mean he’s some kind of monster.”
“But, he used some freaky magic, like a demon. He practically teleported across the street to catch me.”
“Oh… that. I don’t know… He kills demons, so I doubt he's on their side. I've actually just started following him around. Trying to figure out what his deal is, you know?”
The woman looked over at Drifter, who was just casually eating his burger, completely ignoring the potential demon threat lurking outside.
Something deep in her subconscious was nagging at her. A vague memory of stories she heard, videos she’d seen. Glimpses of a white flash that slaughtered demons in the blink of an eye… and then it hit her.
She got up from her chair and marched over to Drifter, determined to wring the truth out of him. She slammed her hand down on the table, catching his attention.
“What?” He asked, still with food in his mouth. “Get your own burger.”
“You…” She exclaimed. “You’re the man in the white coat, aren’t you?”
“I’m a man in a white coat, yes.”
“Those weird powers. I thought you were just a myth, but the stories are true, aren’t they? There really is someone in a white coat, slaying demons with superpowers.”
Drifter grimaced.
“You even have a sword, just like in the videos. You have to be him, right?”
“What’s your point?”
“My point? There are demons out there, right now! Why aren’t you fighting them!? Why are you just sitting there, with burger sauce dribbling down your face!?”
“Because, I’m hungry.”
“Why aren’t you out there helping!?”
“Since when was I under any obligation to help anyone?”
“What!? But, you’re the only one who can help! You have to do something!”
Drifter stood up, but not before wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“I'm not some superhero and I'm not here to fight the big bad, evil monsters for you. Those stories you heard. Of this mythical demon slayer, or whatever bullshit they’re spouting. They're just stories. I’m just some guy trying to survive, like everyone else, that’s all.”
The woman was heartbroken. The one man that could save her, the whole town, maybe even the country, refused to help and for such a blasé reason. He felt so needlessly cruel and unfair.
“But… what am I supposed to do…?” She lamented.
“Get the hell out of town, I suppose.”
“What kind of solution is that!?” Dale yelled. “She can’t go out there! They’ll kill her!”
“You got a better idea?”
“Obviously, she’s safer with us! She can stay in the restaurant with me, while you go deal with the demons. Hero or not, you’re not just going to let those demons roam around freely, are you?”
“She's not staying with me. End of discussion."
"But, what do I do?" The woman asked.
“You’re an adult, make your own decisions.”
The man in the white coat turned out to be neither helpful nor likable, but Dale on the other hand had an innocent yet strong presence. He was more like the hero she imagined than Drifter ever was. With night time in full swing, she didn’t feel like trying her luck on her own, so she opted to stay.
As Drifter sat back, finishing his meal, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure silently watching him from outside the restaurant window. A blackish, grey blob creature, covered in liquid secretions that hid its true form.
The creature’s eyes lit up. Without even acknowledging its presence, Drifter lifted his finger and fired a speck of light that pierced through the window and upon contact with the creature’s body, set it ablaze with white flames.
The spontaneity of the attack caught Dale and the woman off guard, shocked by the sudden screams of anguish coming from outside, with the entrance engulfed in white fire. Thankfully, the flames died down before igniting the whole building.
“Jesus, fuck! What happened!?” Dale cried. “I looked away for like, two seconds and suddenly the whole place was on fire!”
Drifter got up from his seat and headed for the door.
“Where are you going, now!?”
“Our friends are getting impatient. Think I’ll go say hi.”
“You mean you're going out to kill those demons?”
“Well, duh.”
“What? Did you have a change of heart?”
“Nope, I just really hate demons.”
At the front of the restaurant, Drifter examined the demon's corpse, or what was left of it. It was impossible to determine the creature’s appearance now that it was just a pile of ash.
He took note of the trail the demon left behind, which seemed to have ignited along with him, with the burn marks carrying on around the building. Once Drifter entered the street around the back of the restaurant, the first thing he was immediately struck by was the horrible smell.
“Of all the god awful things these monsters have committed over the years, this dumpster fire smell is the worst.” His boots splashed in the stinky residue as he noticed the entire street was smothered by the revolting substance.
Soon, another dark figure confronted Drifter in the middle of the street. It spoke, with a raspy, reverberating voice.
“We sensed your presence, human.”
“Damn… I need to work on masking my powers.”
“They are not your powers. A lowly human does not deserve the right to wield our world’s greatest achievement.”
“You dumbfucks had over five years to reclaim your powers. Doesn’t that make you the unworthy ones?”
“The insects you’ve grown so accustomed to swatting are, but fools. Arrogant and simple minded. They are nothing, compared to Lucifer and his followers.”
“A cult. Cute. So, what’s your plan then?”
“We have more indirect methods.”
Multiple figures suddenly crept out of the darkness. From street corners, doorways and even upper storey windows, some of which were keeping humans securely held to their oozing bodies.
“Hostages?”
The townspeople were terrified by the dank, swamp spewing monsters, except for one woman who seemed to have her priorities elsewhere.
“Lord Anderson! I’ve been chosen!”
“Give up your power and we will spare these people.” The demon bargained.
“I’d rather just kill you.” Drifter countered.
“These humans aren’t the only ones we’ve seized. I’m certain our insider at the restaurant is dealing with your friends as we speak.”
Drifter held his head down. Shaken.
“Upset? Then give up your powers and we’ll let them live.”
Drifter shook even more, but not out of fear or grief, but laughter. Amused by the demon’s ridiculous idea of a threat.
“Fuck me, man…” He smiled painfully. “Hostages? Friends? Cut the bullshit. These people were dead the moment you got them involved. As if a demon would ever stay true to their word. You'd kill them no matter what happened. Sorry, but I’m beyond caring about any human shields you scavenged together, none of you monsters are leaving here alive.”
Dale and the woman were left alone in the restaurant, as they waited for Drifter to finish his business.
“Are you finished with your meal?” The waitress asked.
“What? Oh, sure…”
Dale had completely forgotten the waitress was even here.
“Wait a minute.” He suddenly asked. “Do you even know what’s going on out there?”
“I’m just here to collect your plates, sir.”
“Where the hell have you been anyway? You just up and vanished.”
“I was just in the kitchen, sir.”
“You sure you weren’t putting out the trash, because you reek.”
The waitress said nothing, frozen as she reached for the plate.
“And… why are you leaking grease down your arm?”
The waitress ignored Dale’s plate, as her arms dangled lifelessly, until they snapped off, hitting the floor with a dead thump.
“Oh… shit…”
From out her sleeves, new arms burst forth. Bones covered in a disgusting liquid substance.
“Oh, fuck…”
The skin and muscle peeled off of her legs, as more of the repulsive ooze covered her bones, sullying her uniform in the bizarre filth.
“That’s nasty…”
“Why are you just standing there?!” The woman yelled. “Run!”
The two dashed for the exit, only for the doors and windows to be covered by hideous demonic energy. A barrier taking on the visage of wailing spirits and skulls, reaching out their phantasmal claws to anyone foolish enough to stand near them.
The demon waitress slowly crept up behind them.
“I was ordered to keep you hostage, but acquaintances of CORE's wielder pose just as big a threat as he does.”
“CORE!? The fuck does CORE mean!?”
“Pleading ignorance won’t save you. Your lives are mere obstacles threatening our rejuvenation. Make peace and perish!”
Despite the demon’s slovenly appearance, it darted forward like a rocket, forcing Dale and the woman to separate as they dove out of its way.
The monster turned its attention to Dale, who was panicking. He didn’t know the first thing about fighting demons, but if he didn’t do something, he would surely die.
As the demon leapt at him again, Dale grabbed a chair and slammed it into the demon’s body. He successfully knocked it off balance as it crashed into the table behind him. He got lucky, the demon weighed a ton, yet he somehow managed to just barely evade its assault, but it took all his strength to pull it off.
Recovering quickly, the monster immediately pulled itself out of the wreckage. Thanks to the liquid covering its body, it was capable of absorbing the damage from any kind of physical beating.
Dale readied his chair, but the monster slapped it aside, batting it into the wailing wall of spirits, which held the furniture in their distorted hands and ripped it apart, dragging the pieces into parts unknown.
He was staring death in the face, as the demon rested its long, slender claws, on his throat. Before his esophagus was slashed open, the demon was caught off-guard when the woman leapt at it, jamming a knife in its eye.
For a brief moment, Dale was relieved. The knife had been soundly lunged into the demon’s skull, but it was barely effective. The face of the waitress finally peeled off, plopping to the ground like a wet mask. The rest of the uniform followed, revealing the monster’s coated skeleton.
The human eye the woman stabbed was expendable. Its true eyes were buried deep in its socket, peering at her with an eerie glow, safely tucked away from the knife’s tip.
The woman felt sick to her stomach, but wasn’t given the leisure of lamenting over her actions. Without a second thought, the demon shoved its claw straight through the woman’s chest, tearing through her lungs and heart.
She died instantly.
Her still bleeding body was tossed aside, as the monster returned to its original target.
Nothing could describe Dale’s horror. It all happened too fast for him to properly react. All he could think about was how this was all his fault. He wanted her to stay, he wanted to do what Drifter refused to. He wanted to protect her, to be a hero, but she died anyway. It was only now that he realised, he never even asked for her name…
The demon struck at Dale, only for him to instinctively jump back, landing just shy of the wailing wall, as he felt its cold embrace just inches from his neck.
He had nothing left to defend himself with, nowhere to run and no one to help him. He desperately searched his body for anything he could use and that’s when he found it. A gun.
This weapon was his last hope, but just as he was about to fire he soon realised. It was the same gun from the pub. The one Drifter cartoonishly twisted the barrel of. It was completely useless.
“Drifter! You fucker!!”
Out of pure anger and desperation, he tossed the gun at the demon. The force of the throw pierced through the demon’s liquid defense as the gun’s trigger was caught on a rib. The firearm slid down the bone and pushed against the trigger.
A single second. A miniscule amount of time was all that was needed for the gun’s mechanism to ignite the gunpowder, setting off a spark that caused the gun to backfire thanks to its blocked barrel. The resulting burst of flame ignited the ooze covering the demon, turning it into a raging inferno.
As soon as he noticed the demon screaming in agony from the flames, Dale got the hell away from it before he caught fire. It only took a minute, but the monster’s body soon turned to ash leaving nothing but a black smudge behind.
The wailing wall dissipated and Dale was free from the monster’s ambush. He was amazed he actually survived, but staring at the body of the woman he failed to protect, it was a hollow victory. It almost seemed pointless.
There was nothing left for Dale to do. He was too frightened to leave through the front entrance, lest he be attacked by another demon. Instead, he chose to check the back by going through the kitchen.
Everything seemed normal, with the exception of the man with his head in the sink. His attire suggested that he was a chef and Dale deduced he was the one who cooked their meals earlier. He pulled him out, but he was already dead. Clearly drowned by the monster, either to keep him quiet, or simply disposed of out of cruelty.
With a sickening lump in his stomach, he pushed himself onwards, to the back door exit where, out on the street, he spotted Drifter surrounded by more demons and their hostages.
“A foolish human like you could never understand our goals.” The demon replied.
“You’re not doing a very good job of explaining them.” Drifter yawned. “You know you can’t win, right? Just go back to Hell already.”
The demon laughed. “I must admit, my species is not suited for combat, our weaknesses are far too exploitable. But, any weakness can be turned into a strength.”
Drifter was intrigued and the demon continued.
“Our bodies secrete a liquid that acts like our muscles, to command and protect our bodies, but it is highly flammable. We are not suited to living outside of our home, but for the sake of reviving Lucifer, we will gladly risk our lives for the future of our kind.
Attack us if you dare, but with so much of our secretions covering this area, everyone here will burn.”
“I won’t.”
“You would let the innocent perish?”
“You never planned on letting them live in the first place.”
“You’d sacrifice their lives?”
“Call it what you want, but I don’t play those games anymore.”
Drifter didn’t give it a second thought. The idea that these monsters believed they had him cornered was absurd and that they would release their hostages, delusional. He didn’t even need his sword. A single spark was all it took.
“Waste of time.”
He fired a speck of light that immediately ignited the demon’s body, triggering a chain reaction that engulfed the entire street in white flames, incinerating everything in their path. The fires lit up gas tanks, causing cars to explode, as the screams of people and demons alike cried into the night sky.
And so, another peaceful street corner was left in utter chaos, with the lone man in the white coat standing in the epicenter of it all, completely unfazed.
The last demon refused to die, not until his questions were answered.
“How? How can a human exhibit such cruelty?”
“A demon confused by human cruelty? Funny.”
The monster disintegrated into ash as the screams came to an end, with only the sound of the raging flames filling the silence.
Dale stepped back from the doorway to avoid the fire, but even from a distance he was horrified by the sight. The sheer callousness of Drifter’s actions could not be understated and yet, he expressed no sorrow nor pleasure. He looked the same as always, like he’d seen it all before.
Dale barged through the flames to follow after Drifter, who wandered into a nearby alleyway, but once he caught up, Drifter had vanished, with a bright portal left in his place. A tear in reality.
“What the fuck am I doing!?” He thought. “Why am I following him again!? Is it really worth it!? After what he did to those people….!?
No… I have to follow him. I need to know… What kind of heartless prick just sacrifices innocent lives like that!? How can someone with so much power use it so carelessly!?
I need to know what kind of person you really are, Drifter…”