You’d think eventually I could tire of fear and panic. Become numb to the barrage of detrimental days that life seemed eager to ram down my throat. In some ways, I had. But part of my humanity that wanted my continued existence always threw a strop when danger was afoot. Not while I still drew breath.

Standby? It had always said ‘Cleared’ before. Panic gripped at my insides. Did it know what I truly was now? My brain whirred as I tried to roll up the list of the options I had. Revolver was at my side, but I was hesitant to draw it. Maybe it could instantly vaporize me or destroy my demonic side. I’d-

I stumbled forward as Rodney came through the portal next and knocked straight into me.

~Rodney Blackburn. Please Standby.

“Whaaat does that mean?” He glanced at me apologetically as we righted ourselves.

All I could do was shrug, too preoccupied with my own mortality to shoot him some sarcastic quip or emptily promise that things would be okay. With Wight here we might have a chance against them, but if I made the move before he could get to me - would it be too late?

~You are now both cleared.

We both deflated. Not quite out of the woods yet, but we had an eye on distant civilisation, so there was some hope. Without wanting to tempt fate any further, we both gave the disembodied voice a low bow and fought each other to be the first out of the door. I won.

“Mr. Redd. Mr. Blackburn.” The receptionist greeted us with a glare over the edge of her glasses. “Apologies for the delay. We’re having issues with the system today.”

“Nothing untoward, I hope?”

“Not anything you need to concern yourselves with. Partridge is waiting for you in Room Two.”

I almost physically gagged before remembering to bow. That she just used his last name without a title was interesting, but not really something I need to bother myself with right now because we were due for a chewing out, and the man had sharp teeth. Rodney was pale already.

Room Two wasn’t hard to find, it being one of the closest rooms in the corridors of black and gray. Equally easy enough to spot was my patron demon standing outside the door with his arms crossed as though he had been ejected from the room already for bad behavior. His crimson eyes caught our approach, and he relaxed a little.

[You are here.]

“Yeah.” I paused, expecting him to have something further to add - but he remained impassively staring at me. “Well, let’s get this over with, then.”

I knocked and a muffled voice inside called for us to enter almost immediately.

Now the ringleader of this odd troupe, I pushed the door open to the dull furnishings of the room. Three chairs opposite the main desk where the man himself was sitting at the edge, his arms folded. The grayed mustache over his sour expression bristled as the three of us entered and Wight shut the door. We each took a seat, with me in the middle. No words spoken so far.

It was hard to read his expression. The man often looked like he chewed on lemons for a hobby. Now it seemed he had gotten into a bad batch and the scowl was reasonably menacing. Gray combats, gray hooded top, and black boots. I felt calmer than I probably should - but then; he was just a man. Spending time scraping up the worst Hell had to offer and living through extremes wore off the edge of my old trainer’s barbs.

“Well.”

The single word carried a weight that made me wince despite my mental monologue.

“Once again, it’s you three shit-kickers I have to admonish.” He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. The shtick was becoming tiring for even himself at his age. “They may as well assign me as your personal babysitter at this rate. Any of you need a diaper changing at present?”

Part of me could sense Wight tense, as if he considered raising his hand. While amusing, Partridge had a dim view of my patron and would soon relinquish his rights to sit in on the meetings. Smart move, considering having my demon here was like smuggling a live bomb into negotiations.

“Good. You had a nice nap for a week without pissing yourselves. Despite the constant tirade of bullshit I’m about to labor you all with, I’d like to thank you for unfucking the portal and getting the lead on the real turd brewing beneath our noses.” He sighed at relenting to giving us a half-compliment. “If half our Hunters were as competent as you, I’d be walking around full-mast every waking hour.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I slowly nodded, unsure whether our participation was required for this part of the show. Maybe he was still working through his prepared material before doing crowd work.

“But… Eric, there are some anomalies we need to clear up about your little vacation in Hell.”

Ah, yes. Returning to the roost was the eventuality that some of my unknown abilities had become known now. Connection had dropped off when I went to the Church, but before that…

“Now, I know you’re a lucky son of a bitch - however, not many can survive a shot to the brain matter and keep on trucking.”

My tongue lolled about. “I was pretty angry.”

“We’re willing to accept that Wight...” he briefly narrowed his eyes at the demon, “he absorbed a lot of the damage. Certainly, when he came back to us a little later, he was in a bad shape.”

A nod was granted. I didn’t want to offer up anything they didn’t want to know. Part of my mind wasn’t too sure either - perhaps the part that was blown out of my skull.

“You then deflected a shot in its entirety and fired back at the demon with a skill we aren’t familiar with.”

Sounded like a them problem. I was glad I didn’t have corruption sliding the words out of my mouth before I could keep the snark to myself. “I’m not too sure myself… there’s something I do need to get off my chest, though…”

Both Rodney and Wight gave me a side-eye. There was a lot I could spill, but I had already decided on a sacrificial nugget of knowledge to offer up to obscure some of the other truths hiding behind the curtain, waiting for the scary man to leave.

“Go on, Eric.” His face remained impassive.

“The day of the portal incident, I received a visitor from the Church.”

His eyes winced, but he gave little more than a brief nod in acknowledgement for me to continue.

“He had a lot of bad words for the Org, and I wasn’t too keen on hearing it.” Bending the truth a little, but it was pliable enough. “I saw him off, but he left me a small artefact. ‘Something for good luck,’ he had said. I fired it like a bullet at the demon after it saved me from death.”

A tale so great that I almost believed it myself. I worked my jaw in preparation for the follow-up questions.

“Do you have this man’s name or contact information?”

I shook my head slowly. “Well, his name was Isaac, but he seemed keen on secrecy beyond that.”

“Isaac. Hmm. Then where did you go after extracting the information from the demon? The connection cut out after. We assumed you lost.” The question was either earnest, or he was pretty good at putting on a show about being concerned.

I weighed up the chance that there was a small lie on his part. There was a different between losing sight of me after I Interrogated the demon, and when I stood with a key and vanished from Hell. I kept my cards tight and played it cool.

My brow furrowed. “That wasn’t your doing? I blacked out soon after and awoke in my basement.”

He grunted, but didn’t say anything either way. I could tell that he was waiting for me to fill the silence, try to bait out more information to see if I could tell a taller tale, thinking I’d sealed the deal with my ruse. Poker faces only.

Eventually, he turned to the Blank. “What about you, Rodney? You believe that?”

While he didn’t have my aptitude for bullshitting, he at least didn’t need to lie to put his stamp of approval on events. A nervous gulp before he nodded.

“Yes, Sir. When I arrived back at the house, I found Eric there. He was in… quite a state.”

“Very messy.” I agreed, slightly enjoying the Blank cringing in my peripheral. It wasn’t my fault Pearl was there before he was.

“You heal up well, Eric.” Partridge turned his gaze back to me. “No long-term effects on your health from the head injury?”

I tilted my head to the side in consideration. “I can’t seem to lie in front of authority, which is new.”

There was the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth before his head shook and he sighed. “Alright smart-fuck. I’m tired of your voice, so let’s get down to the real balls of the situation. We’ve been tugging at the pubes of this supposed god-to-be-awakened, but nothing meaty is dropping down.” He paused to either let the metaphor sink in, or prepare for the next chamber to fire.

Partridge crossed his arms. “We’re throwing you in the pit of wolves to knock some heads together and see if any answers bleed out. Simple shit till we know you’re back in proper form.”

“Question.” I raised my hand until he glared it down. “Was ‘pit of wolves’ a proper noun or like a term of-“

“Oh, fuck off already, Eric. I’ll send the brief to the Blank. If we had more Hunters with half a brain, you’d be getting demoted. Dismissed.”

We stood, and I stopped for a moment. “Oh, one actual question, sir?”

He raised an eyebrow, hesitant but slightly smoothed over by my sudden manners.

“Was there any information on Gunther? He returned yet?”

“No. The bucket of useless piss has been hiding out. Higher-ups are tired of it… tell you what - if you want a bit of overtime work. Bullet through his skull for me, and I’ll owe you a favor.”

I nodded. “Consider it done, sir.” We left the room, our breaths held in case he called us back. As I closed the door, the other two exhaled. The Org didn’t care that Gunther and I had fought. They were just annoyed one of us didn’t have the decency to die so they could reclaim the patrons for someone new.

We paused and moved to the side in the hallway, as a couple of armed goons led a handful of civilians through the hall past us. I frowned before I realized they couldn’t be civs. It’d be potential new recruits. A blur of broken people not understanding what they were getting in for. No use warning them. They were already here and there was no backing out.

My stomach had sunk, overriding whatever emotions I had carried from the meeting. I caught the eye of Rodney as he watched them head around the distance corner. He knew. Not as much as I did. Hunters got the dirtied end of the stick compared to Blanks, but he’d seen what I got up to in the Lowers.

I gave him a pat on the back and nodded to Wight.

“Let’s go kill some fucking demons.”