I watched the beautiful flames flicker at its feet. I listened to the sweet sounds of its screams; indulging myself in the creature’s suffering. It was wonderful to imagine the heat it must feel, pressing against its body, agonizing its skin, and burning it to a crisp. I watched the tears dripping down its face, the small drops of water doing nothing about the copious amounts of flames. I smiled as the cries of the demon began to silence, as the air began to disappear around it, taking away its very ability to protest. There was no other feeling quite like this one; at least, I think that’s how I was supposed to feel.

The monster on the stake had been good at blending in, even for the type of demon that it was. It had been only three days before when I had received a message from Tektoro—the capital of Cloacia and location of Vanator HQ—that there were reports of a possible sorcerer in the small town of Heddinton. At the time I was not on the trail of any demons, so I agreed to go and check out this report. Oftentimes these small town calls end up being little more than false alarms, so I expected the trip to be a simple one.

The first thing I did upon my arrival was talk to the sheriff of Heddinton. He was a man about twice my age, with black hair that was just starting to grey, and dark brown eyes to match. His belly told me that he didn’t see much action, not surprising in such a small town. Still, he appeared to be in pretty good shape overall, so I’m sure he got in some form of regular exercise. It was clear from the way he looked at me that he would be easy to work with; he was the type of man who saw listening to his superiors as a priority.

“I’m James.” I spoke grimly, reaching out to shake his hand. “I heard there were reports of magic being used around these parts?”

“That’s what I hear too, I’m afraid.” The sheriff replied in a deep voice. “Though I don’t like to think there’s people capable of working with devils in my town. Name’s Ron.”

“Sometimes you just can’t see the evil someone’s capable of.” It was a speech I had given many times. “You never know what kind of a person the devil may choose to tempt.” 

I paused before speaking again.

 “So I’m going to have to stay around here for a little while, keep watch around these parts. Tomorrow, I’ll need you to take me around to all the popular places and introduce me to a few people. We’ll meet up early to get started.”

It’s important for a Vanator to quickly familiarize himself with all elements of a town and its people. The demons we seek are incredibly skilled at blending in, appearing in almost every way no different than those around them. Still, it is my experience that there are signs, and there is always somebody close enough to the monster to recognize those signs once they start showing. The key is to be patient and ever-vigilant. Of course, there are other ways to search, but in my experience they are no more likely to work.

“Of course.” The sheriff agreed, unsurprisingly not questioning why I needed to see these places. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”

“Thank you. I may also need to use your computer at some point to write a report. Can I get a key to this office?” I nodded my thanks as he handed me a key.

Before driving back to my hotel, I went for a walk around the town. It was dark, but I was trained well, and could still make out the basic looks of the area quite well. It was a typical small town, with one busy street that held all of the major shops and a bunch of side roads that each contained a series of small, worn-down wooden houses with reasonably sized yards often filled with junk.

 In my many travels across the country since becoming a Vanator, I had learned that very few places were truly unique. Towns that looked just like this one mirrored each other throughout the entire country. I was sure if I went down one of these roads  I would find a cemetery, down a few other roads I would find trailer parks, down some others, I would find my way to the farms. That was where I would probably find the practitioner, at one of those farms. There were always some exceptions, but most of these small town cases ended basically the same.

Eventually I made my way back to the hotel where I would be staying while I was in this town—I had already forgotten the name. Instead of going back to my room, I first stopped by to see the desk clerk once more. I had spoken to her before to get a room key, but now I was on the case and had more questions. 

She was a young lady, likely younger even than me. Her hair was blonde, with highlights. She was fairly tall, about 5’8”, and very skinny. Her clothes were dirty and worn, but it was clear she had done her best to look nice. I surmised that she probably didn’t make as much as she needed from this job.

“How are you?” I asked her, trying my best to sound genuinely interested.

“I’m good.” She seemed shocked that I had spoken to her. “Would you like something?”

“I was just hoping to talk to someone.” I replied honestly. “Specifically, I was hoping that maybe you could tell me a little bit about this town?”

“Heddinton?” The girl asked. “There’s not much to say. The most interesting thing to happen around here was when my boyfriend’s cat went missing last week.”

“Oh?” I inquired. In more extreme cases of the Dark Arts, animals like cats could be used for ritual. “And was the cat found?”

“Yes.” The clerk responded. “Mr. Porter found the cat out in the woods off Frost Lane.”

“Glad to hear it.” I smiled. “And does Mr. Porter live near there?”

“No,” She answered. “He lives on a farm off of  Mockingjay. I assume he was just  helping Nick search—that’s my boyfriend, Nick Smith. Not much other reason to be down there that I can think of. He’s a good guy. Always helping others.”

“Huh.” I pondered this information for a minute. “Well, thank you for humoring me. I think I better head to bed now.”

“Good night.”

The next morning, I woke at 6:30 sharp, as I always do. I got dressed, brushed my teeth, and went out into the town to get breakfast at the diner I had spotted the night before.  “Smith’s Diner,” the faded red letters on the sign stuck out more clearly in the morning light. I went inside and sat at the bar. A nice, elderly lady greeted me.

“Well, I’ll be!” She spoke with a lot of enthusiasm. “Looks like we’ve got a visitor in Heddinton. Don’t get a lot of those.”

“No?” I laughed a little.  “Well, I suppose it is a rather out of the way town. Are you Mrs. Smith?”

“That would be me.” The lady replied. “Running this diner everyday for the townsfolk! You want some coffee?”

“Yes, thanks.” I nodded my appreciation. “I heard you lost your cat recently?”

“Now who’s going and spreading rumors like that?” Mrs. Smith seemed confused by the question. I was about to speak up when she cut me off. “Ah, actually I bet you’re thinking of my son. He did lose his cat last week, if I remember right.  He’ll be in here shortly if you want to meet him. He’s a good man. I’m sure you’d like him.”

“Alright.” I smiled. “Then could you get me some pancakes while I wait?”

“Of course. By the way, what are you doing in Heddinton, if you don’t mind sharing?”

“Well, I’m actually a Vanator.” I decided to answer truthfully. “There were reports of magic being used around here. Do you know anything about that?”

Mrs. Smith looked at me for a moment with a face of complete shock. It was not unexpected; Vanators are a rare breed outside of major cities. Not many are willing to do the travelling work that I do. Still, I could not hope but notice a slight glint of fear in her eyes; though, perhaps it was just my imagination.

“Well—” She began to reply when the door swung open. She gestured to the new entrant “This is my son, Nick. Nick, this is a Vanator,—I never got your name?”

“James.” I answered gruffly, offering my hand out to Nick. He returned the handshake.

“A Vanator, huh?” Nick laughed a little. “Can’t say I expected them to actually send anyone.”

Nick appeared to be slightly older than me. His hair was a light orange and his skin was extremely pale. His eyes were a bright green and seemed to radiate light. Like his mother, he was rather tall, about 6’1”, and a solid build for that height. It was clear that he exercised often. He looked at me with the eyes of a peer, something I didn’t often experience in my profession.

“Well, I happened to be nearby.” I replied. “So, you heard about the report of magic?”

“I didn’t just hear about it. I’m the one who made it.”

“Then could you tell me about what you saw?”

“Of course. It was only a few nights ago now, I was driving down to visit a friend, when I saw a bit of a funny light. It looked almost like someone had lit a fire. As I drove closer I heard some kind of chanting. It wasn’t in any language I had ever heard before and I didn’t recognize the voice, which is strange because I know everybody in this area.”

“Voices often change during incantations.” I intervened while Nick took a breath.

“Huh. I never knew that.” Nick continued. “Well, I kept driving towards the chanting, I didn’t know what else to do. I guess they must have seen my car or something, because all of the lights suddenly went out. I went over to investigate, but I didn’t see anything.”

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“Can you take me to where you saw this all happen?” I asked.

“Of course.” Nick seemed abnormally enthusiastic to help. “It’s not far from here, just a little bit of a ways down Mockingjay.”

“Mockingjay?” I perked my head up. “That’s where Mr. Porter lives, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, he’s actually the friend I was going to visit.” Nick answered. “He’s one of the nicest guys I know. Helped me to find my cat the other day, even when everyone else said it would be impossible.” 

“Everyone seems to think highly of him.” I smiled. It was beginning to look like this may be one of my easier investigations. I rarely heard the same name twice by coincidence. “I’ll have to meet him.”   

“I’m sure you’ll get the chance.” Nick said. “We can stop by his place after we check out the scene, if you would like.”    

“That sounds like a great idea.” I concurred. “We can head out as soon as I finish my pancakes.”

It didn’t take long for me to finish the pancakes. Mrs. Smith, as it turned out, was quite the competent chef. The minute I was done, I gestured over to Nick and we headed out. It was a nice day so we decided to walk to the scene and enjoy the weather. I preferred taking my time anyway—at least when there was no immediate threat.

“So,” Nick spoke as we travelled. “What’s it like being a Vanator? I wanted to be one when I was younger, but I never quite was willing to take the leap.”

“It’s a rewarding job.” I answered. “It’s nice knowing that you do good in the world. I have to admit traveling gets lonely though—never staying in one place.”

“Don’t most travel with partners?”

“People think that. In the cities, the Vanators all work together. But out here in the rest of the world, it’s tougher. There’s too much evil spread across the country, and not enough good to fight it. I think clearer on my own anyway.”

“Yeah.” Nick stared off into the distance. After a moment of contemplation, he commented. “It can’t be easy.”

“If everything were easy, do you think there would still be evil?” I didn’t mean to say it in that way. It was something I thought about a lot—why the demons and monsters are able to come into our world. The truth is, I think we invite them. We take shortcuts that we know we shouldn’t and then are shocked to find ourselves lost in the shadows. Nick was silent for the rest of walk. I wondered what he was thinking.

“This is where I saw the lights.” Nick announced our arrival.

The ritual had taken place on the very edge of a farm’s field. It was an area that had once been fenced in, but the fence was long broken down.  I could see a new fence about 500 yards further, most likely marking the new edge of the nearest farm. The wildlife around where we were standing had overgrown, but as I walked a little further, I could see a circle that had been maintained and mowed. As I looked closer I could see extremely subtle burn marks, just the tiniest hints of charred brown, at the tips of the plant life surrounding the circle.

“Whose farm are we next to?” I asked Nick, already suspecting the answer.

“Xav—I mean, Mr. Porter’s.” Nick answered instantly.

“Do you think he’s in right now?” I inquired. “I’d like to talk to him.”

“He most likely is. He hasn’t been going out much lately.”

“Why not?”

“Well, his daughter was badly sick for a while. I think she’s starting to do better lately, though”

“He has a daughter?” I looked at Nick. “Any other family?”

“Just his wife. They’ve been happily married for almost five years now.”

I looked down, hiding my expression. This job became much worse when the suspects had family. How was I supposed to inform these people, who believed so sincerely that they had found someone to love, that they had been lied to all this time? I often even find myself going so far as to hope that those closest to the demon have already been consumed by evil—then at least I can condemn them instead of cursing them.

“Here we are.” Nick spoke up as we arrived at the door of a small ranch house with light blue walls. I knocked on the door.

“Hello, who is it?” Mr. Porter was already opening the door, not bothering to check who had knocked.

 “Nick!” He exclaimed, before noticing me. “And who is this?”

“Mr. Porter, I presume?” I offered my hand. “The name’s James. I’m a Vanator, and I was hoping I could talk to you.”

“Please, call me Xavier.” Mr. Porter took on a serious tone as he shook my hand firmly. “And do come in.”

It was clear from the way the man’s blue eyes shifted as I identified my job that he had something to hide. Still, he did not seem intimidated by my unexpected presence; if anything, he seemed to welcome the company openly. He was a man who appeared at first glance to be perfectly normal—perhaps a little more attractive and social than most. Despite all that, I had little doubt that this was the man we were searching for; that the kind man and loving father who stood before me had made a deal with the devil; that this man was a sorcerer, a practitioner of the dark arts. I could only hope that my instincts were wrong.

“So, Xavier,” I began, now sitting on a couch in the living room. “It appears somebody has been participating in a devil’s ritual just off the edge of your property. Would you know anything about that?”

His reaction to my question made it clear that he did. I let him answer anyway.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Mr. Porter spoke shakily. “I’m afraid I haven’t gotten around to paying much attention to the farm lately. I don’t know if Nick’s told you, but my daughter’s been sick, you see.”

“You haven’t been getting out?” I changed my tone to be more accusatory. Mr. Porter did not seem like he would be able to lie to me for long. “But aren’t you the one who found Nick’s cat? Wouldn’t that require a long time away from your daughter to search?”

“Wait a sec!” Nick intervened aggressively, apparently just now realizing what was going on. “Are you accusing Xavier of something here? Xavier’s the nicest man I know. He found my cat quickly, and his daughter had already started getting better anyway.”

“And,” I continued without acknowledging Nick’s protests, “Would you mind explaining how you found the cat, Xavier?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” Xavier could barely talk at this point. Lucky for him, we were distracted by his wife’s arrival at just that moment.

“Xavier, honey,” His wife noticed me and Nick as soon as she walked in the door. “Who’s this? I don’t recognize him.”

“This is James.” The man answered with a smile. “He’s a Vanator, isn’t that something?”

“Why, yes,” Xavier’s wife was suddenly turning quite pale. “Excuse for a moment, please? I really do need to use the bathroom.”

With that, she ran off, hiding her face. It appeared that she knew as well as me and Xavier what was going on. I smiled. That would make things easier. 

“Xavier,” I looked deep into the man’s eyes as I spoke. “Are you sure you don’t want to share how you found the cat?”

“I don’t know.” The man suddenly had found confidence. If I did not believe his soul to already be overtaken by a demon, I would have believed that his wife had reminded him that he had something to live for. Instead, I chose to believe that the demon had already surrendered, accepted that I had identified it, and was now attempting to manipulate me—to appeal to my human emotions. “I just got lucky, I suppose.”

“Then, can you tell me how your daughter got better?” I asked. “It sounds like she was quite sick?”

“Me and Haylee—that’s my wife—we did everything we could to make her better. I guess we just found the right combination of medicine.” Xavier was now looking me straight in the eyes. I could see the demon inside him feigning fear, appealing to my guilt. 

“Are you sure about that?” I stared straight back at him. “All of this was just luck?”

“Yes,” He answered with sudden admirable confidence. “Or fate, or chance. Whatever you choose to believe.”

“Do you mind if I talk to your daughter?” I decided to change my approach to the matter.

“I’m afraid she’s sleeping.”  The voice that answered was soft and feminine. “I’d rather we didn’t wake her, if we can help it.”

I looked up to see Xavier’s wife standing in the doorway. She had flowing black hair, and beautiful brown eyes. It was not shocking to me that a man like Xavier had such a beautiful wife. Beyond his natural attractiveness, I found that there were certain elements of a personality that even a devil couldn’t suppress. It was clear to me that Xavier had been a bold and loving man, that he was the type of person who would have gladly died for his family. 

I had already, at that point, developed a fairly straightforward theory.  I believed that Xavier’s daughter had fallen sick, deathly so. To a man like Xavier, there is nothing more important than his daughter; to say he would sacrifice the world for her would be an understatement. It seemed likely that Xavier had learned, through whatever means, that he had been born with the ability to communicate with the devil. Seeing no other choice, Xavier must have called upon the demons around him to save his daughter. 

It is at this point that my job becomes the most painful—when evil is not born from evil, but from love. It is easier to condemn actions you do not understand, but quite difficult to criticize someone for a sin that you yourself may, should the situation be right, be tempted to commit. As I thought about how to proceed, I had to remind himself that in choosing to use magic Xavier had knowingly taken a father from a daughter, a husband from a wife; he was no longer the man he had been. He was now a demon. I took a deep breath.

“Can I see your daughter, to confirm she is asleep?” I asked Haylee softly.

“Of course.” She forced a smile. “Just  this way.”

Haylee led me up the stairs and creaked open the door to the daughter’s room, allowing me plenty of room to peek inside. I saw a young girl, perhaps seven years old, with her eyes closed. She had blond hair, much like her father, and was cuddling with a brown stuffed bunny. Her pajamas were pink and fuzzy, covered in bunny drawings. She was smiling in her sleep, a look of peace and contentment that can only ever be found on the face of a child. I took a breath as I watched her. It would break my heart to tell this child what I thought to be the truth—to tell her that the daddy who had raised her has given himself over to evil. I turned away, closing the door as quietly as I could manage.

“Alright,” I spoke softly. “I’ll leave now, but I’ll have to come back to talk to her tomorrow. Nick, would you mind staying with me for a little longer.?”

“Of course.” The red-headed man agreed. “How could I refuse?”

“Please, Mr. Porter,” I continued. “Make sure your daughter is available to talk tomorrow. I’m afraid I won’t be able to let her sleep for two days in a row. I need to figure out the truth, for your family’s sake.”

“She’ll be ready.” Xavier stared at me coldly as he spoke. “But I beg that you understand, she’s been very sick lately. It’s not easy for me to do anything to disturb her.”

“I do understand that.” I said. I looked deeply into his eyes. Trying to speak past the demons I believed to be there, I spoke to his soul, “Xavier, you’re a great father and a brave man. If you did give into the devils’ temptations, I truly am sorry.”

I saw the surprise glitter in the man’s eyes, as well as his wife’s. Even Nick could not help but react for a brief moment to my words. 

In my experience, people think of Vanators like me as cold hearted, as if we have surrendered our own humanity to fight the evil around us. In that, they are not completely wrong. Still, while I may have no choice but to condemn this man to death, I did not see him as evil himself. When some people commit acts of great evil, they have been cursed from the day they were born and that is a tragedy; however, a man born good who commits a great act of evil is a travesty much more sorrowful. I did not say another word as I walked out the door, nor did anyone else. After a brief moment, Nick followed me.