THE ONLY WAY IN
Most of the stars were absent from the sky due to an abundance of street lights and dilapidated brick buildings, warehouses and storefronts lined an otherwise barren street which remained moist from a late afternoon shower that had done nothing to clean them. Although it had just rained there were no longer any signs of future precipitation in the sky. As a matter of fact a half moon shining just enough light to make the dark corners of the city glow slightly was the only thing visible in the night sky.
Below the sky, in the decrepit city, a woman moved briskly along the sidewalk. A slight breeze picked up and blew her long blonde hair, whipping it around her face covering her pale blue eyes. Pushing it to the side she made it possible to see again. Her red sequined dress enhanced the fact that she has a small frame and the matching purse makes her stand out among the local homeless crowd that line the sidewalks. Her heart beat at a slightly elevated pace but she felt little danger from them as their bodies lay resting against the abandoned buildings, if half were alive surely no one could tell.
Her heart sped rapidly in an instant as the sound of a muffled huffing, similar to a flop-eared bloodhound sniffing the ground for a scent, rose in the air behind her. The woman whipped her head around but only saw wet pavement and dirty bums who still laid seemingly lifeless on their cold concrete beds.
I have to get out of here, she thought to herself. I can’t believe that bastard kicked me out of the car.
She lowered her head in an attempt to leave the frightening scene behind her. She tried hard to remain focused on one thing only, willing herself to remember she had to get home safely. She pulled her purse in close and reached inside, fumbling for the something. It has to be in here, DAMNIT, finally pulling out a cell phone.
The click clack of her high heels on the wet concrete reverberated through the quite street, bouncing off the surrounding buildings like she were yelling ‘hello’ into the Grand Canyon.
Her long bony fingers touched the tiny keys as she heard the sound of tires on the wet pavement. She raised her arm high in the air as bright yellow taxi sped by her, leaving her as alone on the street as the bums were in the world, ‘no’ she thought ‘at least they have each other’ and in the passing of the yellowness she noticed something that made the pit of her stomach turn and do flip flops, barreling around and turn in on itself.
His red flannel shirt and tattered blue jeans didn’t seem fit in with the local crowd either. He looked as though he should be a lumberjack or truck-driver, not walking down the city streets. His size was immense, he must have stood nearly seven feet tall and weighed three hundred pounds of what looked like pure muscle.
She glanced down at her phone and realized that she had already dialed the number nine.
“Thank god, Only two more numbers,” she mumbled under her breath.
In a loud whisper, as if coming just outside her ear, she heard the man with a deep baritone and foreboding voice. She didn’t know him or his voice, but somehow she knew it was him. “I wouldn’t be thanking him if I were you.” The mans voice sent shockwaves through her body and her fingers betrayed her as she dropped her phone. Sending it tumbling, end over end to the hard concrete below. Her eyes fixed on it as the faint light extinguished as it shattered into a tiny pieces on the sidewalk below her feet.
Why had she walked out of the restaurant and refused a ride from Martins driver? Did it matter that Martin was a creep and all he wanted from her was sex? At this point, no. She couldn’t help but wonder how much worse the night would have been if she had gone to the Ritz with that scum-bag instead of walking down these mucky streets.
Shit! Now what am I going to do, she thought as she bent over to pick up the shattered remnants of her five hundred dollar phone. And as she did, she got the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach again, she knew something bad was about to happen.
She glanced over her slender shoulder to see the hairy man standing, hovering over her. She could look deep into his eyes, into the soul of the man.
And she didn’t like what she saw. There was a want there, but not a sexual want. No, this was something else. A bloodlust. His long hair covered jaw line led to his salivating mouth. To her wonderment clear saliva actually dripped from his long K-9 like teeth.
“Please, mister, I don’t have anything,” she stammered to get it out and when she did it was barely audible.
“Oh, but you do have something. You have all that I need.”
Without a thought her legs began to move under her, she was running like she was being chased by a monster. Hell for all she knew, she was. After about four steps she had lost her purse and her high heels, leaving them scattered about the sidewalk. Fair game for the homeless men and women who laid by, sleeping. The shoes alone would bring them several hot meals.
From around the seedy brick building I could see everything as it unfolded. The man harassing the pretty blonde, the bums laying up on the sidewalk. I studied the scene and weighed my options carefully. The problem was that I didn’t have many of them to weigh. The woman was being chased by what I could only assume to be a nephilim, a creature created by the cross breeding of fallen angels or demons and mortal humans. This one appeared to have lycan characteristics, probably a werewolf.
I could feel the cold steel of the pure silver blade on my back and the weight of the stainless steel 9mm pistols that hung at my waist. I stood in the shadows watching as it all take place. Frightened.
Admittedly this was my first attempt and I was probably overcompensating for the lack of experience hunting demons and nephilims with all the comic book type equipment that I carried.
I stood in the shadows as the man continued to follow the woman. He wasn’t my intended target. The man that she left at the restaurant had been on my radar for some time as a demon that had become somewhat of an annoyance.
As the footrace approached me, I stepped out of the shadows and into the faint light of the street. With my sword drawn I watched as the beauty ran past me, sprinting for her life.
The werewolf skidded to a stop and looked me in the eyes and, I knew in that moment, that he was indeed a werewolf.
What should I do, I thought. Martin was my hired target. Not this man. This guy was nothing in the scheme of things. He wouldn’t know the difference between Gorgonzola and Grigori.
“I’m assuming silver will do the trick, nephilim,” I said as an insult. Although, from the smirk that appeared on his face, showing his saliva dripping fangs, I thought he probably didn’t take it as such.
“What is this? A Demon working for the man? Martin will love to here about this.” The werewolf’s eyes glowed red. “I can’t wait to tell him.”
He jumped at me and without thinking, almost instinct, the sword swung taking the lumberjacks head off, slicing through it like a carving knife taking the breast from the thanksgiving turkey. With one solid swoop the beasts head rolled into the street.
I looked around to see if anyone was watching, If any of the bums had seen what I had just done. I had killed a man in the street. With a sword. I took his head off and wasn’t done. I had to finish the job. I had to go to the Ritz, find Mr. Martin and take his head off as well. I had to kill two people, two people that the rest of the world had no idea were monsters. What I saw in people no one else could see.
I had to take the lives of demons and anyone else that “he” saw unfit.
I had to, doing His work would be the only way I was getting into heaven. Or should I say back into heaven.