Drifting along murky sea water was a massive cruise ship, on it's way to the docking harbour of Manhattan. One of the attendants knocked on a cabin door and alerted "Mr. Yatsumaru, sir. We're arriving. You may wish to get your luggage rea-"
The cabin door opened abruptly, startling the young attendant. A tall, muscular man with snow-white, short hair and sky-blue eyes looked down at the young man. He had a strong jaw, and wore a dark, bullet-proof outfit beneath a red Trenchcoat. His hands were covered by black, leather gloves and his dark boots nearly reached up to his knees.
He smiled down at the attendant "Don't worry, I'm covered. Thanks for checking, though."
He reached into the pocket of his Trenchcoat and pulled a five-dollar bill, handing it to the startled attendant, walking past him with a swaying pair of Trenchcoat flaps trailing behind his legs. The attendant merely stood where he was, feeling strange that he had just witnessed a fully-grown man in an outfit so ridiculous.
Sadow stared out at the city he was going to be in. His orders were pretty vague but nothing he couldn't handle. His boss, the enigmatic Gentleman, had sent him to an all-expense-paid trip to New York City to investigate an increase in Occult-styled murders. Despite Sadow protesting that it could just be some punks attempting to look cool, the Gentleman wouldn't listen, as always.
Sadow was what was known as a "Hell-Hunter", a person who's career was fixed on hunting Demons and Cultists to "ensure global stability", as the Gentleman put it. He had a wide-range of skills and weaponry/tech to fight these monsters who, despite popular belief, exist and are fully capable of harming humans as humans are of disbelieving them. The Gentleman warned Sadow not to draw too much attention. His task was a sacred, secretive one. If the public begins learning of Demons, his job may become less easy.
As the ship landed, Sadow was immediately taken back by the gust of stench filling the air. Gasoline, pollution, and things Sadow wouldn't dare like to imagine poisoned the air. He covered his nose with his gloved hand as many eager tourists and immigrants rushed past him, pushing and shoving to get down the ramp. He was surprised at how rude people were here. Bumping past him was a hairy and overweight gentleman speaking in an Italian accent toward another group of bumbling fellows, completely disregarding Sadow and the fact that he had just bumped into him.
On his way to the designated apartment complex that he'd be living in, Sadow noticed a scary abundance of homeless people. Was this what America had been reduced to? He looked with pity at the dirt-covered urchin filling the alleyways. Upon reaching the apartment, the owner didn't bother to greet him despite the bell above the door indicating entry had rung. He continued to reach his newspaper as a cheap fan blew against him, a fuzzy, small Television set above the counter in the corner.
Sadow greeted nervously "Uh... Hello? May I get a room?"
The man looked impatiently at Sadow and eyed him up and down "...The hell you 'supposed to be, some sorta' clown or somethin'?"
Sadow ignored the insulting statement "I'm looking for a room, mister...?"
The man answered with a disgusting snort and spit in the nearby trashcan "Barney... We've got three rooms left. That'll be $16 a night."
Sadow handed him the amount he demanded and was given a key to what he could best describe to be the worst homestead he had ever layed witness to. There was but a mattress, a useless Television like the one downstairs at the end of it, a lamp in the corner with a missing light bulb and hole in the shade, and a bathroom with toilets and sink clogged with things he didn't want to imagine. Not to mention cockroaches crawling in and out of holes in the walls periodically.
Sighing, Sadow set down his bags and immediately stomped on a cockroach trying to get near what it assumed to be food, crunching it and creating a loud banging sound. He heard from below someone shout "Shutup up there!" This would not be an experience he'd enjoy.
Soul Heist Edit
On a subway train, Sadow sat across from a young girl with messy hair. She was reading a small book when she looked up at him and started giggling to herself "Y'know, it's a little early for Halloween."
Sadow looked up at her with a questioning gaze. She was like the hotel manager. "I am aware, child. This isn't a costume. It's my uniform."
She asked "Are you in a movie or something?"
He smirked and announced proudly, forgetting the Gentleman's order for discretion "I happen to be... a Hell-Hunter!"
As he stood with his right hand at his side and his left hand aimed at the ceiling of the train, a proud grin on his face with closed eyes from his relishing the moment, she looked on in embarrassment at his performance "Is that from an Anime or something?"
He frowned from her misunderstanding. "No, I hunt Demons and evil phenomena that threatens humanity."
As the subway train reached a stop, she stood up while containing laughter "Yeah, whatever... Nice cosplay, Hell-Hunter guy~" At this, she headed off with a few others.
Sadow crossed his arms, thinking to himself "Children..."
Upon reaching school, the girl met with her two of her friends and her day began as usual. One of them greeted "Hey, Pan. What's up?"
She replied casually "I met this really weird guy on the subway today."
The second friend asked, curious "Was it another addict? You really shouldn't ride those trains."
She shook her head "I don't know if he was on drugs but he was saying stuff like how he was a Demon-Hunter and how he protected humanity or something. I think he was a foreigner."
The first friend dismissed "Whatever, let's just get through the day."
Meanwhile, Sadow reached the bank that he was planning on cashing a check at. The Gentlemen had given him enough money to survive for a month until he'd get another paycheck. As he stepped into the building, he bumped past a particularly tall and muscular African-American man wearing round, goggle-like sunglasses and having no hair.
Sadow and the man looked back at each other before dismissing each other and carrying on with their business. Sadow stepped up to the line formed in front of the banker as the man from before met with a group outside, each of them unholstering submachine guns.
Pandora, while in lunch, sits with her two friends and greets "Hey. So, what's on the news today? Another cop get arrested for assaulting his wife?"
They both shake their heads and point up to the TV screen nearest to them. Each screen in the cafeteria showed the same thing: a bank heist. Pandora sighed "Not again..."
"Put your fucking hands on the ground, NOW!" one of the armed robbers commanded.
Several others fired warning shots into the ceiling and the people took to the ground. Sadow, however, stood his ground. One of the hostages in business suits whispered to him "Are you crazy?! Get down!"
He ignored the demand and the shouting robber demanded to him "I said get down, asshole, now get your fucking ass onto that floor before I-"
Sadow had noticed it. A red twinge in the robbers' eyes. That was all the evidence he needed. Without hesitation, he moved his arm and, out from inside his sleeve, came his white gun, Mercy.
Little aim was needed as Sadow took the shot. The blessed bullet, aligned with biblical scripture, flew it's course into the man's brains, splattering them across the marble floor. Many of the hostages screamed in fear as the other robbers looked shocked and took aim with their machine guns.
Sadow proceeded to fire three rounds, killing three of the four that were left. Holes were blown into their bodies the size of baseballs. They crumpled to the floor loudly, blood squirting out of each open wound. The last robber slowly dropped his gun to let Sadow off his guard and pull out a hidden Desert Eagle, but was abruptly shot in the head.
Reloading his gun, Sadow commented aloud "Familiars. Mere puppets to a Demonic threat far more dangerous. And it's close..."He turned but wasn't quick enough. The black man from before swiftly kicked Sadow with enough force to make him fly through the glass entrances.
The Demon greeted "The name's D, playa', and you chose the wrong time to play hero." He took aim with his pump-action Shotgun and fired though the Hell-Hunter rolled out of the way just in time.
Sadow aimed his pistols at the thuggish leader and fired both at the same time, the bullets whizzing through the air but missing by a reflexive Demon. Nearby bystanders retreated to cover or simply ran away, some taking pictures and recording with their digital devices.
Before long, the police were on the scene. The hostages, by now, had evacuated the building through the back exit but the fight continued regardless. Bullets rocked the air, some misfirings hitting cars or unwary police officers.
D fired his shotgun once more, filing shells into it from behind cover of a statue of some self-imposed bank official. The fired rounds neared Sadow's lower half, but as he maneuvered they caught his Trenchcoat flaps, blowing seven clean holes through it as he fired his black gun three times in return, rolling to the side, and sliding his white gun into his coat to be reloaded.
As D turned from around cover to fire another burst of shells, Sadow tossed his empty black gun high into the air, attracting the attention of D and anyone watching. With swift reflexes, Sadow flicked his wrist and out from under his sleeve came a sleek, silver shuriken that he proceeded to toss at a distracted D.
The bladed tip sliced deep into the Demon's shoulder, cutting into his bone. Sadow caught his black gun and fired the white one as the thug retreated behind cover once more, blowing a chunk of limestone ankle from the statue.
Meanwhile, at the girl's school, everyone in the cafeteria was watching the TV's, crowding around them for a better view. Most of them, Pandora included, assumed the event was purely theatrical, but regardless, why was it being broadcast on every News Station on television?
The teachers had flipped through the channels and found the gore they were witnessing was quite real. The cops being pulled away with their arms blown off and the black giant with the metal, curved star in his shoulder was real. And the most shocking of all was the theatrical display by the white-haired, red Trenchcoat wearing lunatic the girl met on the subway this morning.As D turned to fire from behind cover once more, Sadow took this opportunity to shoot the second ankle on the statue and let it's weakened support give way and crush the Demon.
Looking up and hearing the grinding of stone, D reacted quickly and fired his shotgun into the limestone statue, sending dust and chunks of rock everywhere, the head of said figure landing perfectly on one of the police cars' hoods.
D noticed a burning sensation in his shoulder and swiftly removed the shuriken, seeing his bloodless wound smoldering and charred. He gritted his teeth and turned toward Sadow, his eyes glowing red and turning slitted behind his round sunglasses.
At the girl's home, her family watched on the News television as these events unfolded, the reporters acting hysterical when giving the updates. The girl, a few years older than the one Sadow met, was brushing her teeth frantically while observing the events, an elderly woman behind her.
The grandmother asked "When is it going to be my turn to see?" Her voice sounded pleading almost.The girl scrubbed her teeth absent-mindedly as her eyes tried to process the quick movements flashing on her screen, thinking to herself "What does everyone feel when watching this? Is everyone going nuts out there or is this just some trick someone's playing?"
Sadow holstered his guns and charged toward the now-angered Demon, who had just gotten a face full of Limestone dust and his sunglasses were covered, blinding him. As he took a moment to crouch behind some fallen debris and remove them, Sadow made his move.
The Hell-Hunter motioned his wrists again and out from under his sleeves came a pair of hidden Machete-like blades which sung a metallic hum when freed. He did a front flip over the hunched Demon and his cover and landed in front of him, slicing away at his upper arm and shoulder.
Clenching his teeth, D slammed his head into Sadow's, knocking him onto the asphalt ground. He proceeded to slam his boot hard into the white-haired warrior's face, pressing down with all of his strength. Sadow retaliated with a harsh and merciless stab into D's leg with his Machete.
Everyone gasped as the large Demon took a few pain-filled steps back, the Machete still buried in his bone and muscle. He gave a loud, deep shriek of pain while clutching the handle and pulling it slowly out. Sadow, in the meanwhile, coughed and choked as blood spouted from his broken nose. He twisted it back into place and jolted from the sharp pain, blinking a bit "Goddammit I hate Demons..."
The burrowed blade seemed to roast the inside of the wound, smoke emitting from it as he pulled it out. When it finally exited his leg with a splatter and a few blood drips, he turned his attention to Sadow. "What the fuck are you, kid?!" he demanded angrily and in shock that this man was so skilled and how his weapons were hurting him.
Sadow raised his fists, ignoring the question, and flipped his wrists once more. Out came a pair of silver knuckledusters that fit perfectly on his hand, an iron grip held firmly in his palm. D attempted to lift his Shotgun but the weapon was brutally kicked in front of him, the barrel shattering from the force of Sadow's boot.
D swung the bloodied Machete at Sadow, who guarded with his new pair of weapons strugglingly. A Demon's strength outmatched his own, but only by a few. Sadow performed a cheap shot by kicking D in his fresh leg wound, causing him to lose his grip on the handle and let out a wail of pain. Sadow took this opportunity to land a few hard punches into the monsters face, the metal burning the first layer of skin from one of his cheeks due to repeated hits.
One of the kids in the girl's school exclaimed "Holy shit!" as the others were cheering Sadow on. D's red eyes were clear in view, making many think it's a TV show or something. Besides, the size ratio between them made some interpret D as the bad guy. Regardless, some kids rooted for the Demon in preference. As the punches connected, even some of the teachers found themselves giving looks of "Oh!" at it.The girl was surprised to find how taken in by this fight people were. They really were into this. Meanwhile, at her home, her elder sister watched on with growing interest, her eyes brightening from Sadow's skill and display. As the shattering blows connected with D's face, the sister raised both of her arms and cheered "Woah! Grams, did you see that?!" The grandmother shook her head "I can't see through your head. I want to see!"
Sadow landed blast after blast into D's gut, knocking the wind from him. The police and local onlookers were in complete awe, not even daring to step into the fight lest they get caught in it or, otherwise, interrupt the adrenaline rush felt by each watcher in the massive city. Thousands watched on with their television sets and listened to the reports with radios.
The streets had been blocked off and traffic formed for people to view the fight up close, but police insisted for them to turn away for their own safety. As one of the officers was telling two people in their car this, a loud banging sound was heard and Sadow was seen in the air by all the cars out in the streets, each cheering in awe. One of the guys in the car, a british teen around the sister's age, exclaimed in his Northern British accent "Did you see that bast'rd fly!?"
Sadow landed hard on the concrete as D clutched his burning face in agony, the wind knocked from the Hell-Hunter once again. He coughed rushedly, hoping to get back into the fight. He had never felt like this before, even in training simulations. The adrenaline flowed through his body like blood being pumped in his veins. His alertness and reaction time as well as his newfound strength and determination had never been so heightened in all his days. He shrugged pain off like it was a small sneeze.
He got back up and raised his fists once more, his feet skipping around like a boxer "What? That all ya' got?" D bitterly retorted "I'm gonna rip your spine straight out of your stomach!" Sadow gave a sarcastically worried look and the Demon took the bait, charging directly at him with his fist raised. Sadow moved his head to the side to dodge the jab, moving his fist upwarded and delivering a mind-shattering uppercut into his jaw, sending him a few inches off the ground.
Sadow's fresh hits encouraged D to go into his released form, a Demonic transformation into a more distorted, alien mockery of humanity with enhanced characteristics and new abilities available. As Sadow aimed a right jab, D took hold of his fist and clenched his teeth angrily, his Demonic aura powering up and manifesting as a red cloud of energy around him.
His boots tore apart as hooves grew from where his feet once existed, brown fur covering his legs. His green, bullet-proof jacket was ripped off with one arm as the muscles grew and the skin turned red. The whites in his eyes turned orange and the colouration engulfed his pupils and irises, causing both of his eyes to turn completely orange. His jaw protruded outward into a snout and his nose buried itself in it, forming a pair of bull-like nostrils on the snout, which became sealed by a ring of dark metal.His height grew drastically. Whereas before he was around seven feet, he is now roughly eight and a half. Dark horns grew out of his body, multiple ones on his legs, arms, back, and head. Sadow looked up at his enemies' new form with widened eyes of shock. "Goddammit, I hate Demons..." he thought before D swiftly backhanded him into a nearby Police car.
People were now sure it was a movie or some fake display. How could such a monstrosity truly exist? Besides, it was Manhattan, where anything and everything could happen. Onlookers continued to watch with interest, however, to see how it would play out. Sadow staggered out from the wreckage of the vehicle, dazed but still able to fight. He reached his right arm back and grabbed hold of a black handle, pulling up.
D marched toward him, each step shook the ground and rocked the nearby officers and pedestrians balances. A loud thud accompanied every landing of his hooves to the ground, as well as a crack forming from where his hoof lands. Sadow, in the meantime, continued to pull up on the handle, pulling out a huge, shining, black sword that has yet to fully reveal itself. The guard resembled a horned skull with an opened jaw and a pair of bones sticking out from each place where the ears should be. A piece resembling a wide spine was below the skull, which lead to the blade itself.
When the sword finally was fully out of the back of Sadow's coat, it was revealed to be a sharpened Claymore-sized Longsword. The sun glistened along the black steel, the end slamming against the asphalt ground, crushing it beneath. Sadow murmured beneath his breath as D marched closer "Come on, motherfucker... Come on..." As D raised a fist to slam down upon the Hell-Hunter, Sadow announced loudly "Come on!" and sidestepped the heavy arm, which flattened the already demolished police car behind him. Sadow positioned himself and moved the blade back, holding the handle by his side and, with all of his human strength, forcing the sword forward and into the monster's arm, the black weapon slicing deep into it.
D grunted in pain loudly but as he tried to raise his arm, Sadow climbed atop his shoulder and churned the blade deeper into his muscle. With a few deeper cuts, Sadow turned the blade quickly to the side as D tried to reach him with his other arm. This resulted in the heavily-bloodied arm falling completely off, much to disgust or horror of viewers. D couldn't stand it, and his iron muzzle broke off as his crocodile-like maw gaped wide to roar in pain. With a quick turn, he slammed his palm into Sadow and knocked him far back and into a wall on the bank. He slammed into it hard, nearly knocking him unconscious. D, in the meantime, sped fast toward a nearby Sewage drain, covered by a circular lid. He tore off the lid and transformed back into his human form, wearing only a pair of torn-up briefs. He hopped into the hole before the police could make a move, but they quickly picked up slack and began setting up a perimeter.
Requiem of the Damned Edit
It was finally over. Sadow was apprehended and all his weapons and armaments, equipment, as well as D's arm were brought in as evidence. Sadow had attempted to pursue D but was arrested immediately, despite pleads of innocence. Now he wait, in a quiet, sterile interrogation room. An officer had entered wearing a casual undervest and tie. He was flipping through a file examiningly as Sadow waited patiently at the table. The officer offered "Coffee?" Sadow gave a casual nod "Sure." and accepted the rather bland brew. He offered again "Cig?", holding up a cigarette from its pack. Sadow shook his head "No, I'm good."
The interrogation began with "Who, exactly, are you?" Sadow answered truthfully "Sadow Yatsumaru, Hell-Hunter." The man raised a brow curiously "A... what-hunter?" Sadow sighed in reluctance to tell him "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, sir." The officer set the file down on the table and took a seat across from Sadow, folding his hands together casually "Alright, Sadow... We've got Bill Trenek from the Transit Station on Yellow Boulevard. Got his shoulder blown clean off by your stray bullet. Jimmy Folstine, accounting. Has two sons and a daughter, pretty good in Baseball. Either a stray bullet from you or that other guy got him in the eye. He's lucky to be alive but he'll never see again. The other eye had to be cut out because it was far too damaged to work again. I can name three more. I knew these men. I've worked with them, drove some of their kids to school somedays, had Thanksgiving dinner at one's house once. They were good people, just doing their jobs." Sadow stated with weakness "They have my condolences... as do you."
The officer went on "Now I think you owe them an explanation for why they're in so much pain but not just them, oh no. Their families, friends, people who cared about 'em, like me. We wanna know just what the fuck did you think you were doing out there!?" Sadow admitted with a dry voice "My job." He took a sip of the coffee to clear his throat. Guilt over these innocent people's misery was choking his insides like an iron grip in his gut. The officer asked coldly "And just what would that be?" Sadow asked in return "You want the truth?" The officer nodded "Yeah." Sadow went on "I am a Hell-Hunter, a slayer of Demons and cleanser of unnatural phenomena. Who I work for I cannot say but make no mistake, my friend; Demons are real, and you just witnessed one." The officer sighed in disbelief "Y'know, my wife is catholic and, when I say catholic, I mean her ass is so tight if you stuck a lump of coal up it, in a week you'd have a Diamond. If she were here, she might buy what you're sayin'. But I don't. From what I've seen in this world: No, there is no God. And what you're tellin' me is bullshit. It's an insult to those who lost so much for your show- I should just crack your fuckin' neck in for breathing that ridiculous horse crap in my presence."
Meanwhile, at the girl's home that night, the family of had gathered around for dinner; the girl, her sister, her grandmother, and their younger brothers. Their dog and cat have lined up at the tables to receive any unwanted scraps. The eldest sister went on "I mean, I can't believe what I saw! He shot the statue's ankle and it started to fall on the black guy, but he turned like a freakin' rocket and fired his shotgun into it! I've never seen anyone move so fast before! But that white-haired guy's moves were so awesome! He took out this bright, ninja-star thing and threw it-" The younger sister cut in "Shuriken." The eldest turned to her with a questioning look "Huh?" The younger sister corrected fully "The ninja star is called a Shuriken." The elder sister waved it off ignoringly "Whatever. Anyway, it stuck right in the guy's shoulder! And I could even see him take it out! It was amazing!" The grandmother hushed her "Not at the dinner table, Tanya, honestly!" The two boys beside her were disappointed by the sudden silence, though Tanya promised "Don't worry guys, I'll tell ya' after dinner." Pandora couldn't understand why they were all so taken in by their so-called "hero". It was, obviously, some sort of hoax or something. That guy was just a skilled actor or stuntman. Nothing more.The officer that had had been interrogating Sadow was a little frustrated by this point. Nothing out of the white-haired madman other than nonsense about religion. He entered the break room to get a cup of coffee because, clearly, he was going to be here for a while. As he was heading through the reception room to catch a quick conversation with the receptionist, Ms. Daniels, he heard a faint thudding sound but dismissed it as someone dropping something heavy outside. He greeted "Still doing the Jones-Brown case?" She nodded with a sarcastically enthusiastic smile "Yep. How about you? The nut crackin'?" He shook his head "Keeps insisting on some sort of religious bullcrap. He'll fess up eventually, don't worry." In the interrogation room, Sadow heard the thudding sounds and knew immediately what they were. He yelled to the ones watching him through the glass pane "Get me out of here! They're here!" The ones behind the glass merely sat in their chairs, smoking and drinking beer "What a loon. Better get done with this quick, my wife's making spaghetti at home." Another thud, which made the receptionist look at the interrogator in fear. He scoffed in disbelief and looked out the glass front door at the dark streets outside "See? Nothin-" Before he could finish his sentence, he was pounced upon by a black, feral shadow with red eyes and a frothing maw. The receptionist, Ms. Daniels of Detroit, screamed for her life as she witnessed the man's face be mauled by this monster. It looked up and roared at her in fury, leaping upon her desk to take a chomp at her screaming mouth. Mozart's Dies Irae Requiem played loudly throughout the Police Station as an entire Pack of these Demonic dogs tore the station apart, ripping officer after officer to shreds, knocking over equipment, and howling a deathly cry of delight. Sadow, in the meantime, managed to kick the door keeping him locked in down, scrambling to the evidence room to retrieve his equipment. As he entered, however, he saw a Hell-Hound gnawing on the entrails of a human torso in Police uniform. It looked up at him and snarled angrily, blood covering it's muzzle. It barked several times before charging toward him, to which he knocked it to the side and slammed a locker door on its head, angering it further. As it jerked the locker door off of its hinges to free itself, Sadow scrambled to the door leading to the second storage room, having not located what he needed in the few seconds he had to search. It rushed over as he was closing it, trying to chomp at the Hell-Hunter's arm. Sadow reacted with haste in slamming the door on the creature's head, though it ignored the attempt and continued to struggle against his weight in a hunger-fueled frenzy. Sadow reared his leg back and slammed it hard into the door. With a crack, the creature yelped in pain and retreated to regenerate. He locked it and barred the handle with a chair, for good measure. He turned and smirked at the collection of weapons and gear he had to combat this new threat.
Crackling sounds were heard in the lobby as one of the surviving officers looked up from the floor, his attempt at playing opossum halted. At first, he was inclined to think it was backup. But when he noticed the black suit, the Trenchcoat flaps, and the wide hat, he knew he was mistaken. Was this the person who unleashed these... things on them?! The symphony continued to play as the stranger waved his hands in the air like a conductor in an opera. It was an opera of death he was conducting! An opera of horror! He smelt something... felt a warm, stench-ridden death behind him. Turning his head, his eyes widened in horror to see a snarling maw awaiting him.
The Hell-Hound outside the door to the storage room chomped a few times, testing its re-attached jaws, before proceeding to growl and take a few steps toward the door, ready to tackle Sadow and tear his throat out when he opened the door. However, to its shock, a bullet shot out from the wooden door, blowing a splintered hole the size of a baseball through it, and traced through the monster's eye and through its body, igniting it into flames. It howled and groaned in agony as it clumsily wobbled from side to side, trying to orient itself after having a hole blown straight through its body. Sadow, in the meantime, kicked the door down and held his pair of guns at the ready, remarking "Down, boy."As the Hell-Hunter entered the halls, he was horrified to see several, bloody bodies strewn about, being devoured by these hideous abominations. Each one looked up and snarled threateningly at him. He merely took aim with his guns and gave two sharp whistles, like that between an owner and his pets. They barked furiously and charged at him, only to be gunned down with ease. Sadow heard skittering sounds and turned to see another jump toward him. Before he could properly take aim, the beast had lunged onto and was snapping away at his face. His arm was pushing the monster away by its chest but it was strong. Blood from its recent meal drizzled out of its mouth and onto Sadow's cheek. The corpses of the muts took to flame as Sadow struggled with his target. It snapped its jaws repeatedly at him, trying desperately to sink its fanged canines into his flesh. Taking steady aim with his black gun, he positioned the barrel alongside the monster's rib cage and fired. It yelped in pain and fell on its side, unnable to move before Sadow stood up and took proper aim with his white gun, firing a single round into its head. Hearing a low growl behind him, he turned to see the first Hell-Hound he "killed" exiting the room, covered in a cloud of fire. It's black, ashen bones were revealed to be spikier than regular canine bones. Sadow smirked and cracked a pun before cocking his guns "Hot dog." It gave a low, raspy growl of intimidation before charging toward him. Sadow held his smirk and fired a single round through the beast's head. It flew toward him, the bullet seemingly having no effect, until it made contact with the Hell-Hunter. Upon touch, it disintegrated into a charred, smoking pile of ashes. The man in the black suit had exited out into a nearby alleyway that was now cutoff by police, who had encircled the area. Three young officers noticed him and aimed their pistols at him "Freeze! Put your hands in the air!" The man smirked at their empty demands and raised his white gloved hands, throwing a volley of small, glowing red knives at them. It sizzled their flesh upon impalement. The middle officer now stood, next to his fallen comrades, shaking and frightened out of his wits. This had to be a dream or a prank or... something! The man in the suit commented, his eyes hidden by his hat "I bet you think this is some sort of dream you're having. But unfortunately, officer... this is a nightmare you won't wakeup from." Before the novice of a cop knew it, the man was now standing directly behind him with his back facing him. He was holding some sort of red, energy-based Katana. "Please..." he thought "...wake me up..." At this, his face slowly had a line drawn across it, blood drizzling from this fresh clearing. In only a second, the top half of his face, by the bridge of his nose, fell off, followed by him collapsing to the ground. The red Katana dissipated with a hum and the suit-wearing man adjusted his hat, a cut in it revealing his grey, calm eye.
Sadow burst into his apartment room, several cockroaches scattering every which direction as he set a pallet of his weapons on the ground to plan his next move. As he considered where to look find out where to find these Demons, he heard on his static-drenched television the word "massacre" and immediately slammed his fist atop it to fix its apparent deficiency. A News reporter explained "There is substantial evidence that earlier todays' white-haired assailant was responsible as he was detained and transported to this very facility earlier today. Local authorities are in hot pursuit of this dangerous vigilante-" Sadow slammed his fist down on the TV, permanently shutting it off as neighboring rooms yelled at him to be quiet. He clenched his canined teeth angrily "Clever bastards, using me as a scapegoat..." He would hunt them down, regardless of this new problematic addition. He picked up a number of grenades, firearms, blades, and other weapons and holstered them within his coat. He was a soldier, and it was a time for war. Time to earn his name.
Pandora was the only one in her family not surprised or disappointed by the TV results. She knew he was a murderer, a psycho. This came to no surprise to her. A bit eerie, however, that she would meet a man on her way to school who would turn out to be such a freak. As they ate at dinner, one of her brothers offered the possibility "Maybe he was actually one of the robbers, but they got into a disagreement during the robbery and fought over it?" Pandora could believe that. Criminals weren't always so competent. Tanya grimaced down at her food as she pushed it around with a fork, her cheek resting on her fist and her elbow on the table. Pandora looked at her with a raised brow, wondering what her problem was. "She probably has a crush on the weirdo. She always goes for the strange, bad boys..."
"His name is C." answered one of the homeless in a back alleyway. Sadow was questioning those with "street smarts" as to the whereabouts of this local gang. He continued "The guy is a shadow, I tell ya'. Stalks the streets like a gliding ph-ph-phantom... He's a Head-Honcho in the Alpha Crime Syndicate, a drug-running group. The police don't do nothin' about 'em 'cause they's just another gang in this city, ripping off the poor and destitute..." Sadow grimaced at them. The night was still young, and these homeless were spending it huddled around a trash can filled with burning papers and refuse. He asked "One more question: Where can I find them?" They all looked startled at his request and then turned back to their fire, hoping what he asked wasn't truly what was asked. Sadow grew irritated and impatient at these hobos' lack of cooperation, grabbing one by the scruff of his dirty sweater and hoisting him up to Sadow's face "Those bastards made me look like a psychopathic killer! And, if what you say is true, you all would be better off if they were dead! So tell me where they are before I beat some sense into that hairy, stench-ridden head of yours!" The old man immediately cowered before the comparatively towering Hell-Hunter, submissively answering "Th-They can be found in the old sewer tunnels underground... But... You won't be able to beat them. They've got guns, muscle, and plenty of dogs... Vicious, monstrous dogs... You'll die if you go down there!" Sadow let the man go and he scrambled to huddle by his friends, the white-haired warrior smirking in confidence "We'll see."
The stench of New York City's underbelly was as true as stories told. It smelled of rotting, dead things. Sadow covered his nose with a rag to keep from fainting from the unspeakable smell in front of him as he scaled the walls, walking alongside the elevated standing platforms made to keep people from stepping in whatever New York's residents decided was indecent enough to be flushed down their drain. He could feel them, though... the presence of Demons... Of Demonic creatures... Yes, it filled the halls of these underground sewers like the smell of freshly-made cookies in a home. It is, at this point, that Sadow notices that he nearly triggered a paper-made Demonic trap. Several parchments with pentagram designs on them have been tapered around the area to protect the hornet's nest. He grimaces in contemplation, scratching his chin as he kneels down to examine the traps more thoroughly. It seems that if someone crosses the invisible barrier connecting each parchment to the next, some sort of alarm will sound and the Syndicate will be aware of his presence. Carefully, he staked a few silver spikes into the center of each parchment, stabbing directly into the stone it was taped to. The ink glowed red and hummed for a moment before dying down, becoming inactive. Sadow smirked in triump over his success in this endeavor. His training has paid off. "Bingo." he exclaimed quietly.
"One thousand, four hundred, twenty-nine... One thousand, four hundred, thirty! That's all of it~!" exclaimed a young, perky, childish voice, her delight showcasing a squeaking pitch. The owner of the voice was a small girl with red-auburn hair and small, yellow, cat-like eyes. A tiny fang hung from her mouth like that of a playful kitten, ignorant of the world around her. Nearby, a group of thugs in sweatshirts and hoodies stacked bags of contraband on top of each other, each with little effort and satisfied grins on their faces, greed written all over their expressions. The bags were filled with a white, powdery substance many found themselves addicted to in the past, but lately the prevalence of this drug has slowly dwindled over the years. This shipment hopes to remedy that. "Excellent. Most excellent, Dime." The young girl smiles back as the suit-wearing man from before stands next to a pile of bags. "Regardless of the bank incident, we should be right on schedule." D, nearby, still looked sore from his encounter with the Hell-Hunter "Are you sure you didn't meet him there, C?" The dark figure nodded with a cheeky grin "I'm afraid not. Don't worry, if the fool has any sense he'll be long gone. If not, well... I'm sure we can deal with him when the time arises." What C chose not to inform D about, however, was the fact that ashes were found in the precinct. Ashes from Hell-Hounds. This man was there, he just managed to fight his way to escape. No matter. D is haughty and arrogant... slow, even. It came to no surprise that this red-trenchcoat-wearing fool beat him in combat so handily.
"Don't disregard this threat so hastily, C." explained a voice that seemed to come from the air itself. Dime looked a bit startled to hear it and turned her head, noticing a busty woman looking in her mid twenties-early thirties, with long, flowing blue hair and a dark robe-like dress. C smiled cheerfully upon hearing her enter "Ah, B... So nice of you to join us. Dime just got finished ensuring our investments have managed to pay off. Those extorted businesses have been paying up, our drugs are in, and we are on schedule, despite our misshap." B nodded in acknowledgement "Regardless, that was a very careless move on your part, D. The world now knows your face." D gruffed in aggravation "Whatever. All I care about is getting that white-haired bastard back for burning half my face..." The left half of the Demon's face, confirmingly, was revealing a wound as if he had been seared by a hot flame. He also lacked one of his arms from his previous engagement, using his remaining one to run a rather large hunting knife through his fingers in anticipation for a fight.
Sadow had been hunched for a fair amount of time and his back was beginning to tire out. "Where the hell are they?" he wondered, slipping around a concrete wall. His eyes widened from the sudden lamp light down the dark passageway. He found it. Withdrawing his pistols from his coat, he silently inched his way into the corridor that lead into a small room illuminated by some old age oil lamps. But what he found was rather odd: stacks of bags filled with a white powder. It looked like a shipping or processing plant... but for what, he wasn't certain. Perhaps greed was these Demons' objectives. He noticed a gangster heading his way and backed up to hide behind one of the stacks but managed to bump into one, tipping it over and causing the bags to fall over and burst, scattering the powder all over the floor. Now everyone was alerted to his presence. As several of the gangsters started to pull firearms and knives or blunt objects from any which direction, Sadow dispatched them quickly with a quick unleashing of his guns' rounds. The few smart enough to duck behind cover began returning fire as he did the same.
D looked eager to see the Hell-Hunter once again, though Dime looked comically frantic "No! The shipment! Now how are we going to pay those Cubans back!?"