Job Forty-nine. Seven times seven. Forty-nine was a powerful number when it came to magic. Steve, Vik and I had gotten a commission from the guild to check out suspicious activity in a town called Amity. It had gone dark a couple of weeks ago, and they were worried. Naturally they called in the hotshot young hunters that had been climbing the charts to investigate.

Panic! blasted from the radio as we pulled into the town. Steve rode with me in my silver Volvo, while Vik was on our tail in his trusty black pickup. 

We pulled over at a small diner straight out of the fifties. I got out and stretched my legs, it had been a long drive. We went straight from Oregon to Indiana with no breaks, because if what the Guild’s intel was even remotely accurate, Star Falls was in some serious trouble.

I looked over at my left, and there was Steve Colt. He was a tall guy, deathly pale, with dark hair. His icy blue eyes were covered by a pair of black framed glasses. He wore a plain loose black shirt, and his arms were adorned with bracelets, wooden, golden, silver. All with intricate carvings. On his waist was a gunslinger’s belt, with a stick in the holster, and little rocks where bullets should be.

On my right was a short and darkly tanned man. Vik de la Cruz. He too had dark hair, a shade lighter than Steve’s. He had a wispy mustache, and couldn’t grow a beard to save his life. He wore a leather bomber over a grey v-neck showing off his tightly packed muscle, and in his hands was a long rowan staff, with carvings as intricate as Steve’s bracelets.

I was the middle ground betwixt the two, literally and figuratively. I was average height, with light hair. I wore a leather jacket that looked like it belonged in a 70’s cop movie. And in my arms was a rod of wood, a little shorter than a baseball bat. And my left hand was a shining silver ring with runes on it.

We entered the diner, and it was conspicuously empty. For a town this size, you’d expect there to be at least a handful of patrons at noon. We all shared uneasy glances and sat at a booth.

“Okay, let’s go over procedure.” I said, and passed out the menus. Vik rolled his eyes, and Steve sighed. “Guys, come on. We need to stay sharp, or we know what could happen. Look at Simon’s group.” They both winced at the reminder of the wizards who were all killed by a shapeshifter. Simon and his team were powerful hunters, but they’d gotten cocky after slaying a dragon, ignored Guild protocol, and got their asses handed to them by a shapeshifter.

“Right. We’ll split up, go around town, looking for unusual things, asking folks about that too.” Vik said while perusing his menu.

“Anything we find out, we tell each other immediately. We don’t go in blind, and we don’t play Lone Ranger.” Steve chimed in, and rubbernecked around the diner, looking for a server.

“Then, we meet up, and go for the kill.” I finished, and they both nodded. “Alright, let’s start with the diner.” We all got up, and clutched our foci, ready to unleash hell on anything fool enough to try us.

I took point, with  Steve behind me, and Vik on our rear. I pushed the door to the kitchen, slowly and peered my head in. It looked empty. Looks could be deceiving. I rubbed the amulet around my neck, and golden light shined from it, illuminating the dark room. Dishes had been abandoned, water left running, and everything but the freezer was open.

Why was it always the freezer? We crept to the closed door, and I smelt a tinge of rotten eggs. I didn’t know whether that meant demons, or the stove had been left on. But I held my hand up, and tapped my nose. Steve nodded, and so did Vik.

We reached the freezer. I quickly swung the door open and pointed my rod at it, the carvings glowing bright red as I did so. Something hissed and leapt at me. 

“Ciklon!” I shouted, throwing my arms forth, and a mighty wind burst to life in the freezer, throwing the attacker into a pile of frozen meats. It hissed again, and flung a bone at me. It happened so fast, I couldn’t even raise a shield. 

The frozen, gristle covered bone hit me dead in the chest, and hurt like a mother.

Steve stepped out from behind me, and threw a glowing stone at the unknown assailant. Icy chains materialized, and bound it.

I clapped Steve on the shoulder and gave him my thanks. The two of us entered the freezer, while Vik stood vigilant in the doorway. 

I rubbed the pendant against my chest, and golden light shined once more. Upon closer examination, our attacker was human? 

The stench of rotten eggs had grown stronger, and a pit of unease filled my stomach. 

As I got closer, the air grew heavier, and so did my limbs. I looked at the man who had attacked us, struggling violently against his chains.

He was portly, and balding. Dried blood caked his apron, and his hands. Around the corner of his mouth was a trail of black goo. His eyes were completely blackened, like a shark’s. His teeth were rotting, and he smelled strongly of sulfur. His skin was sallow, and covered in small cuts. Something began moving under his skin, and a centipede burst forth in a baptism of black slime.

This was a demon.

I looked at Steve, who had come to the same conclusion. He held his pentacle up, and I held my sun. Both were symbols of faith, which demons didn’t take too well.

“Standard exorcism.” I said, and he nodded. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a piece of chalk. He drew a circle around our target, who still thrashed against his icy bindings. Steve pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood hit the circle which flashed bright white.

“Vik!” Steve said, and was tossed a silver flask, he popped the top, and held it outward in one hand.

“Eiice hunc daemonium!” I chanted and Steve splashed the demon with the holy water, which sizzled against its skin. “Hanc animam custodire!” The demon began wailing and slamming itself against the circle, but was unable to get past the barrier. “In infernis arderet!” Blue flames engulfed the man, slowly burning him alive. I winced, and pushed more mana into the spell. The flames grew brighter and hotter. The demon hissed and cursed in a language I couldn’t identify, but I doubted it was anything pretty. Then in a flash of blue light, the man was back to normal. Well, not exactly. His skin was still rather sallow, and covered in cuts. But his eyes had reverted, the only black were in his pupils. His hands were still covered in blood

We dragged the bastard out of the fridge, and into a back office, and dropped him on a couch.

We all just stood there for a moment. I looked at Steve, who looked at Vik, who looked at me.

“Holy shit.” I said, and Steve said something a lot worse. “Vik, can you get through to the Guild? Tell them we’re dealing with demonic possession?” He shook his head.

“I tried to get in contact with them when we rolled into town. Scrying’s cut off, and so are the phone lines.” Shit. That meant there was a warlock here. One who was strong enough to isolate this town from the Guild.

“Okay. Plan B. Get to the truck, get our asses geared up, and blast them back to hell.”

I now had a messenger bag full of chalk, holy water, and rune stones. I also held a 1911. I know that sounds bad. Demons are essentially magical parasites, but they’re also like the Venom symbiote. Magic always comes with a cost, for both parties. They make their host exponentially stronger and tougher, while providing the demon with an anchor to the mortal plane. If you shoot someone who’s possessed with a handgun, or even a shotgun, the worst you’ll do is bruise them. But, it’s enough to slow them down when you can’t use magic.

Steve and Vik were similarly armed. Steve had added to his belt, by slinging a runestone filled bandolier over his chest. He too used a handgun, a Smith and Wesson revolver.

Vik had a Winchester hunting rifle in one hand, and his staff in the other. Like me, he opted for a messenger bag full of magical goodies.

There was a reason the demon who possessed that chef was in the freezer. They needed food, and demons were carnivores. Preferring living meat, above all else. But, they’d take it other ways too. 

Not all demons followed animalistic instincts. If we were dealing with more than the bottom feeder we’d just exorcized, we could be in serious trouble. 

We followed Guild protocol for a situation like this. Sweep each building, and if there were any survivors, get them to a safe secondary location. 

Each building had at least three or four demons, and a lot more corpses. Steve set up the circle, I performed the ritual, and Vik kept the others off our backs while we worked. There were a couple of close calls, but we all worked well under pressure.

Until we reached the daycare.

The smell in this building wasn't sulfuric like the others. It was a stomach-churning combination of rotting meat, and the cold metallic scent of blood. An image formed in my head before I saw the bodies. A few dozen corpses piled in the back of a classroom. They couldn’t have been older than four. The blood was all over the floor, as were strips of flesh, and intestines. I heard a slurping noise, and raised my blasting rod. Crimson flames danced along the wooden shaft, and I snarled as I summoned an inferno that would consume the demon.

A wall of ice erupted between the explosive fire and my target. I whipped around and saw Steve’s wand glow white and he was muttering the same phrase over and over, to keep my fire under control.

I realized what I had done, and cut off my mana. The flames disappeared, and the ice shrank. The demon hissed and lunged at me.  I drew my pistol and fired blindly. Taking pleasure in each shot that made contact.

I made a thwipping motion, “Ligoter!” Crimson ropes shot from my wrist and bound the demon to the floor.

“Steve, you handle this one. I need to cool down.” I said, and he nodded. Vik’s eyes showed me that he had almost done the same as me. He gripped my shoulder and nodded. 

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I stepped out of the room, and took a breath, sliding down against the smooth brick wall.

I almost killed someone. It didn’t matter that they were possessed. I had almost crossed the biggest line you could in this job. Killing a human. I had done it before.

If it weren’t for Steve, I would have again. And I would have enjoyed doing it. I always knew there was darkness in me. I felt it when I had to strike my father down. I used this job as an outlet for it. By fighting monsters, I wouldn’t become one. Or at least I did, I’d be one on the side of the metaphorical angels. That had been my biggest fear since I left Leeville. That I would become like my father, and join the dark side. That was why I was glad I had my friends by my side. They could pull me back from the edge, and I would do the same for them. 

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and saw that Vik had a man slung over his shoulder.

The man I had almost killed.

A loud shriek, and two figures were moving towards us. 

I turned my hand in a half circle, “Forsvara!” A golden dome of energy materialized, and the two demons slammed into the defensive barrier. I cut off the barrier as Steve threw more runestones, binding the demons in chains of ice.

I drew chalk from my bag and circled the two of them. I poured a flask of holy water on the two, and completed the circle with my blood.

Steve stood beside me as we chanted in unison. The demons were baptized in azure flames, and left behind two unconscious women. I carried one fireman style, and Steve dragged the other outside. 

The designated safe zone was a park gazebo a couple of blocks away. We’d drawn a protective circle around it to keep the unpossessed safe from further harm. That was the nice thing about circles, they didn’t just keep demons in. They kept them out too.

We repeated this process of entering, exorcizing, and exiting buildings for hours. Clearing offices, houses, and a school. Until we reached the last building in town. A burnt church.

The stench of sulfur was strong here. Stronger than anywhere else. The air was heavy, and all hairs were standing on edge. Something bad had happened here. Something wrong on a fundamental level.

Churches were consecrated, meaning demons couldn’t enter them. But, if you performed an act of Evil, with a capital E, you could break that barrier, like smashing a wall with a wrecking ball.

I looked at Steve who nodded. And I heard Vik reload his Winchester. I held my blasting rod out, and charged with mana.

There was one person in the church. A man. He was tall, and gaunt. His greasy hair reached his shoulders. His nose was hooked, and his eyes grim. Around his neck was a silver choker, it sizzled against his skin. In his hand was a staff carved from yew. With a depiction of a serpent’s head on its end. Stereotypical. He gave a wicked smile as he saw us enter.

“Ah, so the Guild finally notices me? And who do they send? Children.” He laughed, a laugh so cold it chilled my blood. 

There were three types of laughs in this world. 

The kind shared between family and friends. When a joke is told, or your partner does something adorable. The laugh that made you feel warm and happy.

There was the kind reserved for mockery. Laughing at someone who trips and wipes out. Taunting someone who you believe is beneath you.

This, was the third kind. That set off every nerve in your body. That chills you to your core. That makes you want to run as far as you can, as fast as you can. One devoid of any mirth, or amusement. It was inhuman, much like him.

I stepped closer.

“Oh, so you’re the brave one. Well, let’s see how brave you are.” He leveled his staff at me and violet energy surged at me.

I ducked the side and summoned an explosive funnel of fire directed at him. I felt sweat drip on my brow. My arms ached, and my chest still stung from that demon’s bone toss. We had performed a lot of exorcisms, and that had taken a lot of us. I didn’t know how much juice I had left. Steve and Vik should have more in the tank than me. Either way, we had to be smart, and fast about taking him down.

A pew exploded in front of me, sending wooden shrapnel at my body. I raised my left arm like a shield, and a circle of golden energy burst to life, and deflected the attack.

Steve took this distraction to send a volley of axe shaped icicles at the warlock; who simply laughed coldly, and snapped his fingers. Sending forth a violet inferno, which decimated the axes. He waved his hand, and a chunk of concrete hit my friend faster than he could summon a shield.

Vik took his shot and a bullet whizzed right past the warlock’s head. Like it had been redirected to hit the wall at the last minute. Vik growled and tossed his rifle aside, aiming his staff at our foe. Emerald lightning crackled at the end, and zigzagged through the air, zipping past his defenses, before freezing completely mid-air. It reversed course, and surged back into his staff, electrocuting Vik, and incinerated his staff.

I don’t know how he hadn’t taken me out yet, but I wouldn’t let their failure be in vain.

I took a deep breath and rubbed the shining silver ring on my left hand. In a flash of golden light, a leather bound handle appeared in my hand. Attached to it was a bastard sword of shining silver. Glowing red and gold runes adorned the blade.

I sheathed my blasting rod, and charged with the sword.

Greasy flung chunks of concrete at me, which I cleaved like a knife with hot butter. He smiled, one devoid of joy, but of something darker. 

He snapped his fingers and the chunks of concrete transmuted into iron blades. As they honed in on me, I dropped to my knees, raising my hands, and the sword above me.

“Forsvara!” The golden dome appeared once more, and the knives bounced off, falling harmlessly to the ground.

How was he this powerful? Wizards could draw magic from two places. From within themselves, using things like memories, emotions, or even cold reason. Or you could summon it from places of power. Such as the pyramids, Mt. Vesuvius or StoneHenge. 

I knew of only one thing that could have made this warlock so strong. So easily able to abuse the laws of magic. I knew what Evil act had been committed. He had made a pact, with a higher demon. That was the final way a wizard could draw power from a higher being. A demon, or an old one. This warlock had sold his soul for power. But even that had limits. Why hadn’t he left this fallen church? Why hadn’t his demonic minions spread beyond the town’s limits. Whatever he had done, had made him strong. Ridiculously so. But, it had also trapped him here. That was why he hadn’t left town, and enthralled the rest of the world. He literally couldn’t leave the building.

Which meant if I got my friends out of the church, they’d be free from his power. Maybe they’d be able to get help.

Forget offense, I had to run the mother of all defensive plays.

I summoned all the mana I could spare, and drew my blasting rod once more. I held it outward, alongside my blade.

“FOTIA!” A firestorm erupted, the force of which threw me backward, near my team. The warlock would be too distracted by the flames to notice. I hoped.

I grabbed Steve, whose head was bleeding an amount I was uncomfortable with. I dragged him near Vik, who was regaining consciousness. I slapped him, and pushed Steve into his arms. I explained my plan in short bursts, and he nodded.

“Luck.” He simply said with a grim smile, and dragged our friend through the door.

Okay. I was nearly out of steam. Neither of my friends had gotten close to hitting this bitch, and that was when they had more mana than I did. I still had a bag full of holy water, and runes. I had my sword, and that was about it.

Wait a minute. I drew the small piece of chalk I had in my pocket, and smiled. I stood in the center aisle, and drew a circle. I powered it with my blood, and it flashed red. I could only hope that this would work, and that I’d see the next day.

He summoned a firestorm nigh identical to the one I had conjured mere moments before, with the exception of it being a brilliant violet hue.

The circle did its job. I didn’t even feel the temperature rise a degree. He saw me standing and was flabbergasted. 

I stepped out of my chalky protection, and charged him again. He flung a pew at me; which, like the concrete before, I cleaved in twain. I kept charging, and dodging the various spells he threw my way, before reaching into my pocket once more. I uncapped the holy water flask and splashed the warlock with it, hoping my theory was right. 

He howled like the demons it had struck before him. His skin began sizzling, and he lashed out at me, unable to summon a spark of mana. He tackled me to the ground, and wrapped his warty hands around my neck, and began squeezing.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been choked. And I don’t mean in the fun sexy way. I mean, life or death. It only takes about thirty pounds of pressure, held for about ten seconds.

This guy was applying a lot more than thirty pounds.

I tried gasping, but I couldn’t get any air out. I was flailing, trying desperately to get this brute off me. This couldn’t be the end. I’d fought the most dangerous warlock of our generation and came out with just a scar on my side. Inspiration suddenly hit me. 

I slammed my knee right into his junk, and he let go in another howl of pain. I grabbed onto my neck, and started wheezing, sucking in as much sweet, sweet air as I could. I got to my feet, and I noticed something off in the corner, something I hadn’t seen before. The body of a little girl. Her corpse had been in the beginning stages of decay. But it was intact enough that I could see how he had killed her. He had ripped her still beating heart out.

In that moment, I saw only red. Fire flowed through my veins, begging to be let out. Pleading to be set free and alight. Begging to burn this bastard for what he had done. For this little girl. For the toddlers of the daycare. The students in the school. For every innocent life he had caused to be ripped apart like a piece of meat in a tiger pen.

I let it all loose with a primal yell. Every little bit of anger, every piece of darkness I had seen. That yell was more than just emotions, it was a summoning. And fire had answered my call. Flames of every color burned, and flew through the air, devouring the church, licking at the warlock, who screamed how it shouldn’t have ended like this. I walked out of the chapel, ignoring the howls of pain and the heat of the fire.

Steve and Vik were there, watching the inferno behind me. 

We stood in front of the church that was engulfed in flames. Steve had thrown up, Vik was staring off into the sky. My fists were clenched, and still smoking.

“How, how could you do that Ray?” Steve asked, and I pushed him against the side of Vik’s truck. The air was hot and thick. Sweat dripped down the side of his face.

“There wasn’t anything human left in there and you know it.” I said. Disgusted at myself. With the pride I felt for killing him. I had used magic to end a life. Even one as vile as his, there were things that weren’t done. Lines that weren’t crossed. I could still faintly hear his screams, and smell the sickly sweet scent of burning flesh. I wanted to throw up like Steve had. But I couldn’t. “You burnt him alive!” He screamed and the air grew cold, I heard the wind howl, and a sharp, icy wind struck my face. 

“That thing wasn't human. It was a monster and you know it!” I fired back and he flinched. I stepped away from him. “It killed every single child we came across today! If I could have stopped him another way, maybe I would have.

“He was human.” Steve said. He wasn’t, not anymore. Now all he was, was ash. And it was my fault. 

“Was. Not at the end, and you know it.” I said, unwilling to back down. Steve looked at the ground.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Ray.” His voice was missing its conviction. He had gone too far, seen too much tonight. My best friend thought I was a monster. Maybe he was right. I hoped he wasn’t, but maybe he was.

“Then leave. No one’s asking you to stay. Get in a car, and go. Me and Vik will keep hunting.” I said, and he winced like I had just hit him in the gut.

“Ray,” Vik paused and sighed. “I’m done too.” I turned to the hand on my shoulder and saw Vik looking at me, he had that same broken look on his face that Steve did. I felt the pit in my stomach grow, and tears well up. I forced them down, and looked back at the fire.

“Okay. Both of you go then. I’ll keep doing what we said we would do. Hunting monsters and I’ll do it alone.” I said, and we had parted ways. Steve went home, then to college. Vik enrolled in the police academy, still determined on some level to help people. That’s when I started my Lone Ranger impression.

That was the sad truth of hunting. The things we saw, that we were exposed to, they broke you, over and over again. You saw the worst of the worst. You tried to defend against it, but when you look into the abyss, it looks back into you. 

I always regretted what I said to them that night. I was prideful, angry, and hurt. Over the years I tried to muster up the strength, the courage I used every night against monsters of all sorts. I was never strong enough to dial their numbers though.