Dream Demons

The battle's on

            Breathing deeply he centered himself and calm his arousal. Trying to justify pleasing her more than himself although he had no regrets. It was only the beginning and she was worth the wait. 

            Pulling out his cell as he closed the bedroom door, he called Courmier, as he walked into the spartanly furnished living room. There were no personal touches, as if she could leave at a moments notice. Just a small TV, dusty from disuse, tucked onto a shelf in the bookcase, and a second hand couch in then corner. It was very clean and smelled feminine. Like the sleeping flower in the other room. 

            "Hey, boss. We're doing alright. We got four out of the six but the last two pulled the spider trick before we could follow. " reported his second in command. 

            The sounds of yelling in the background, ticked Dar off. Seriously?

            "If they don't keep it down they'll never catch the last two and every human for ten blocks will wake up and call the police. Where are you? I'll meet you."

            "We chased them about two blocks east, down a a dead end on 21st Street."

            "I'll see you in five." Sighing, Dar hung up. Locating a piece of paper and pen he left a note in case Marita should wake. 

            Transporting himself back to the shadows near the portal opening he witnessed earlier took no thought. Younger immortals require more concentration and it took years to achieve pinpoint accuracy. He remembered the first time he learned he could do it. 

            He'd only been turned about twenty years and was still fighting the bloodlust. Having no choice he found himself hunting during a festival. The streets overrun with warm bodies. He'd never been around so many humans as a vampire and the smell of their blood and the sound of all those heartbeats were too much. He tried fighting it, tried focusing on a single target. But his vision turned red and his logic began slipping away. He panicked, afraid of a m******e and revealing himself. His survival instinct kicked in and all he wanted was to escape to the one safe place he knew. Then suddenly he was back in his lair, hidden in a cave, miles from civilization. The shock made him forget his hunger. And he simply wanted to practice this new skill until he had complete control. 

            The streets were completely deserted. Even the alleys seem to be devoid of any homeless or streetwalkers. It's possible the demons got to them first. The lost souls of the city were easy pickings. He recognized them as a particularly nasty demon that not only consumed the flesh of its prey but the lifeforce, as well. If they were lucky enough to consume one with supernatural or psychic abilities their energy level amped up. 

            "Damn." A crash the next street over drew him from his ruminations. Running towards the sound he saw one of his hunter thrown into a brick wall. Running towards the downed guardian, he recognized him as a Were, new to his group. He couldn't remember his name for the life of him. But he was okay, Were's were sturdy creatures with shapeshifting and rapid healing abilities but they were still mortal. 

            "Are you alright?"

            "Yeah, just knocked the air out of me."

            Dar noticed Cour fighting a demon nearby and keeping it on the run. At least distracted. Normally they weren't this hard to kill. Assuming his fighting stance, he produced two curved blades, razor sharp and custom fit to his hands and blessed by the Dark Goddess herself and forged in Black Fire. 

            "This is going to be fun. Com on, Ugly, let's dance." 

            The demon turned towards Dar, sensing the power emanating from him, foaming at the mouth anticipating its next meal. It was uglier than most, its face was scarred and pitted, its horns pointed forward like a bull and its eyes glowed red with Hell fire. Dar's sensitive sniffer couldn't mistake the smell of sulfur and brimstone that covered this bugger. There was also the underlying metallic smell from the blood caked on its body. This demon wasn't very bright but they were quick and merciless and the older they were the stronger they became. Dar jumped over the demon, flipping around behind him, slashing it across the back. Two tears appeared in the rags it wore and its black blood, oozed quickly. The mystical properties of Dar's blades prevented the wounds from rapid healing. Unfortunately they only slowed the innate healing properties of the demon. 

            It howled in pain and anger. It turned, lunging at Dar again, this time raking its razor sharp claws down his chest. Tearing through his black tee shirt and leaving four deep gouges in his chest. He felt the warm thick liquid begin to trickle down his skin. Without taking his eyes off the monster, Dar growled low in his throat, his eyes glowing. His canines extended as he prepared to finish it. Normally, he liked playing with it more but he wasn't in the mood. He wanted to get back to Marita and discover her secrets before she distracted him more. 

            "So that's how you want to play? That was my favorite shirt." Leaping at the demon with the blades still clutched in his hands, the demon leaped to meet him. Dar expected the move and crossed his blades, decapitating the creature in one blow. The nasty thing was no match for his impatience.

            As he landed, smoke began to steam from the body, circling around Dar looking for a new host. Cour was there with the suction tube ready to suck up the evil energy before it claimed an innocent soul. 

            "Still sore?" Dar walked over to the downed Were, still clutching his ribs. 

            "Yeah, a couple of cracked ribs. They'll heal by next sunset. Just need a little protein." Grimacing he sat up and started to stand, supported by the wall behind him.

            "Dar, I don't think you've been formally introduced to Thomas here. He's a Were-Leopard that transferred in."

            "Ah, well I don't feel so bad not knowing your name. Glad to have you on the team. Don't get yourself killed."Sighing, he looked down at the tears in his shirt. "I tell you, Cour, this plays havoc on my wardrobe."

            "Wouldn't be such a big deal if you didn't spend $200 on a tee shirt." Cour teased elbowing him lightly. 

            "It's not $200...only $85, smart ass." Dar tried to hide the smile his friend brought out in him. His expensive wardrobe was always a source of friendly teasing. Cour, his closest friend and second in command, stood about six foot six and a formidable warrior in his own right. He preferred the easy maintenance of a fully shaved head and an intimidating dragon tattoo covering the right side of his head front to back. It made quite a scary sight no matter the circumstances but he was also the most caring and sensitive immortal he ever met.

        "Whatever. Want to grab a bite?" Courmier flashed a bit of fang, showing he wanted to hunt for fun now that the work was done. 

         "Not tonight, man. I have to get going. See you tomorrow night at the Loft. Oh, have you seen Michael?" Michael was hard to pin down, always searching for the elusive missing piece of his soul. Dar doubted he even knew what the missing piece was, besides some obscure reference from an ancient oracle. 

            He needed to check on Marita. No one ever got to him this quickly. She was under his skin and all he wanted to do was be with her. There was something about her. She was hurting and he didn't know the real  reason why. There was something deeper than the loss of her family. She looked lost. 

            "No, man. His veritable angelic-ness missed the festivities. See ya, dude."Cour shrugged, he was used to Dar's aloofness after a fight. He spent most of his time alone. They were tight but he still kept him at a distance. Cour loaded the equipment in a large black van parked around the corner. Thomas limping behind after tossing a match on the demon remains. Cleanup was always easy.

            Stepping into the shadows he teleported himself back to Marita's apartment. Removing his torn shirt, the gouges in his skin already disappeared. Dar quietly popped into her room so as not to wake her. She rested peacefully curled up under the large quilt. Her pale face almost glowing in the dark. He moved closer for just one touch of her soft skin. As he settled onto the bed he realized she was glowing! Glowing in her sleep? What the hell? 

        Dawn approached quickly and he should hurry to his resting place but he was drawn to the sleeping beauty. Her serene expression turned troubled, laying a hand on her forehead he joined her in her dream.

        Marita entered the large bedroom as if walking through quicksand. Dar stayed close behind her so as not to distract her from her destination. Seeing everything as she saw from the deep shadows creeping along the long hall to the mist swirling around their legs. The walls splattered heavily with dark red blood distorting the lovely light peach walls. The white curtains billowing softly in the unnatural breeze were also streaked with the thick substance. No sound escaped except for a slow drip coming from the attached bathroom. 

         The Queen size bed was so thickly coated with blood and gore there was no way to discern the bedding. The substance was still glossy but beginning to congeal. Marita silently stepped around the bed, starting to shake. Her mouth opening to scream but no noise came out. Looking over her shoulder he spied the mutilated bodies. There was no way to tell how many were actually there the pieces were to torn to tell. There was no way to discern the identity of the victims, however he knew who they must be. Then he heard a shrill scream from somewhere else in the home. He rushed out past Marita hoping to spare her from reliving the horror, forgetting for a moment that it was in the past, just a dream. 

            Then he saw the creature. Not with his eyes so much as he felt it. A little girl, not more than four, in a white nightgown and brown curls, flew across the room like Peter Pan. Hitting the wall with a loud thump,  she fell to the floor leaving blood smear from her impact. Unseen hands picked her up tossing her back on the bed where dozens of bite marks appeared from unseen teeth and chunks of flesh disappeared  into nothingness. Blood flowed freely over the fluffy Tinker Bell comforter. The little body didn't move and it was obvious she was dead. 

            Dar smelled the overwhelming scent of blood as Marita's memory knew it. The scent was a bit off from reality. Not the familiar metallic sweetness, so his beast remained dormant. Turning from the horror he found Marita cowering in the corner, shocked and terrified, her hands covering her ears. His heart broke as she relived this hell. No wonder she couldn't sleep. She wouldn't sleep. Crouching beside her, he stroked her hair. 

           "Marita, baby, it's okay. It'll be okay." Gathering her petite body against his, he stood with her cradled in his arms. "Let's get out of here."

            She rested her head against his chest, seeking the protection he offered.   

        Pulling her out of the dream he held her in his lap, stroking her back until she woke and nestled closer. It took her a moment of consciousness before confusion set in.

        Leaping out of his arms, she flew across the room. What happened? Where did he come from?

        "What are you? How..how did you do that?"

        Slowly getting to his knees, he held his hands out in front of him trying to calm her. "Baby, its okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

        She watched warily as he edges towards her. He was a magnificent looking man. Or whatever he was. He couldn't be human and get into her mind like that. Could he? Her head was throbbing. Another migraine. Her fascination was overriding her fear. He was graceful. His muscles flexed deliciously under his skin, not an ounce of fat to be seen. He was close enough to touch. She felt safe with him but terrified by his proximity.

        "S..stay right there. Don't come any closer." She pulled her legs tighter to her chest, realizing she was naked and a chill had crept across her bare skin. Goosebumps sprang across her skin.