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Sorry about the absence. I hope to be back by September 15 October 6, with a full explanation. Or, at least, a decent excuse.
Antonio looked up at the big human-looking bouncer.
The bar, off a side street in downtown Boston, wasn't so much seedy as boring. There were better places. Whether you wanted music (of virtually any type), or good company (or not-so-good company), or to meet that special someone (whatever your particular...peccadilloes), or to watch the Sox lose again (a favorite pastime in Boston), or even if you just wanted to get drunk, there were better places. In walking distance. Nobody came here.
Except for demons. And demon trackers.
Antonio had walked though the front door, looking cool in his new trench coat. Too bad men didn't wear hats anymore, this trench was perfect for a hat. And too bad it wasn't raining, it was pushing 80, and Antonio was sweltering. Oh, and too bad he didn't smoke, but he was willing to sacrifice the 'cool factor' of a cigarette for 'non-smoker smugness'. And a jazz sax solo in the background would have been great. Antonio had had one on a cd, and would have brought it, but the player was smashed in a fight outside Fenway.
But Antonio knew he was still cool, even if the bouncer in the small hall didn't.
Said bouncer could play the lead role if they ever remake King Kong. He was 6' 7", and hairy. Not so much muscular, but big!
He was a demon. A demon using his human form. There was no special symbol, no giveaway, but Antonio had been hunting demons long enough he could usually recognize them. He just know them when he saw them.
One demon. Alone. The worst kind of fight, even in human form. Antonio had to avoid a stand-up match with him. In some inversion, or perversion, of nature, demons were most dangerous in small numbers. In large groups they got in each other's way, pulled each other back to get the best pieces, even fought each other instead of the tracker. Antonio tried to put a stop to such fights; it was rude to fight a fellow demon when there was a perfectly good tracker ready to take you both.
Antonio had a few scars, but none from a fight involving five or more demons at once. Of course, none of the scars were disfiguring; they merely added to his macho appearance.
"Go away! We're full up!" the bouncer grunted. One more bit of proof! No bar could possibly turn away Antonio. No matter how full they were, they would risk a few health code violations for the privilege of having The World's Greatest Demon Tracker at one of their stools.
Antonio couldn't walk down the streets of Boston with a longsword, but he was not unarmed. He pulled out a silenced gold-plated .38 and shot the bouncer between the eyes. Demons are like Night Of The Living Dead zombies; you had to destroy the brain, or they weren't really dead. The bouncer melted into nauseating demon-slime. Well, even a solo demon can be easy, if he's in human form and you surprise him. Especially if you're Antonio.
The third proof! Antonio liked to have at least three proofs, just in case. It occurred to the dark tracker that he didn't get the third proof until after the bouncer was dead. But that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that he was right yet again.
Antonio replaced the bullet, used a cloth to remove the still-hot silencer (it had a deleterious effect on both range and accuracy). He waited until the bouncer had dissolved completely (he had just bought these boots a week ago), then walked to the door and listened.
A full house, it sounded like. Good. He opened the door a crack. At least the bouncer hadn't been lying; the place was full. Of demons. Just demons, of course. Monster-types did not mix. Monsters could teach humans a thing or two about prejudice. Most of them were in base demon form, looking like a perverse cross between human and leopard. Demons ruined Antonio's 'cat-girl' fantasies, and for that he would never forgive them! They mostly controlled their poison-claw flow, but the floor was still bad. Antonio shuddered at the thought of his beautiful footwear on that surface. Which brought up the unhappy thought of what the fight could do to his trench. And maybe the rest of his clothes!
Unfortunately, the only alternative was to wear clothing and shoes in less-than-absolutely-I-mean-perfect condition. And obviously that was not an option. Maybe naked-fighting? Give the ladies a thrill? And a few of the men?
There were a handful of demons in human form. Men and women of varying looks, ages, backgrounds, and so on. It takes a few hours and a hell of a lot of to work to change to human, and almost as much time and effort to change back, so once a demon is in one form it typically stays. And, unlike incubi/succubi or doppelgangers, each demon only has one form. Of course, it was possible some of the humans were humans, but they were probably demon-sympathizers, anyway. Just as bad!
There must be at least a hundred in there! I could probably sleep through the first part of this fight, until I get the numbers down! Pulling out a beautiful jagged knife with his left hand and hold his gun in his right, Antonio kicked open the door and burst in.
Then things went very bad very fast.
Go to Chapter 17: What Could Possibly Go Wrong On Friday The Thirteenth?
Go to Chapter 19: The Decision
Bring your friends into the Gonspiracy! Tell them about
Banny
And
Lissa
and get their eternal gratitude, and a chance to win $10,000 and a Sony DVD Player, because using your friends for your own personal enrichment, and having them owe you for it, is the gonner way!
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Dave Lerner Stories (note that to use the mailto you'll need to edit it in your 'send to' window. I apologize, but I've already lost one address to spam, and if I get inundated again, I won't have time to read your letters.) - All Rights Reserved. Note that this includes images of the Tricryptogon, and the name "Tricryptogon".