Demons Like Myself

Valefar's shoes were clean as a window but they were hard as he went upstairs of the apartment building. His steps on the wooden planks were loud enough to be heard from the front entrance of the apartment. The inside of the building reminded Chance of the one at Penrose Avenue, but this particular building was somehow dirtier and gloomier than the last one.

Walls were teared up on the ground floor, and he could see that the upper floor had better wallpaper, the 2nd floor was cleaner as did the third..

Chance wondered how'd the roof would look like, he hoped it didn't have a hold in it like when he first encountered Graham and his Hellfire Arm, Blade. Speaking of Blade, Chance thought, it's probably safe with the HAST members at the 9th precinct.

"Look at this clown. Living in an apartment room that's literally 123." Valefar spoke by the time he saw the deep brown door with a large plaque with 123 on it, written with black ink. "I've been here before, and I bet you this jackass hasn't cleaned the place up."

"You getting angry over a guy who has a lack of hygiene?"

"Demons like myself, we have standards, including the places we live in. It's funny that human beings can sometimes lose their common sense, and dare I say it again, it's without demon involvement.." He stopped as Chance raised an eyebrow. "Right." Valefar replied, before he slammed his fist onto the door. "Galley! Open up!"

"Alright already." a voice came to the door. Valefar and Chance saw the door open, and revealed a man wearing a wifebeater. The man's hair was messy and black, in addition to him wearing long but old pants. Galley raised his eyebrow upon seeing Valefar. "The heck you want Vale? I thought we agreed I'd paid you in a couple of weeks." he explained. "This Hellfire Arm crisis is really bothering my business, you get me?"

He stopped as he looked at Chance. "Hold up, why's a Haverton here?"

"In case you heard today's announcement, the President of the United States himself asked every citizen to help find the Hellfire Arms."

Galley rolled his eyes. "I doubt I could help Vale.'

"Aren't you the same guy who worked for Angus O'Malley?" Valefar demanded. "Cause obviously you could give help, unless you want to be labeled as a traitor to the nation, just like what the Prez said."

"Do I look like I give a shit? You got money and connections, why don't you do it yourself? People like you sit on your asses while the rest of us actually do something to make our lives better!" Galley retaliated and shoved Valefar, before he felt Valefar's hand grabbing him by the neck, pushing him into the apartment and slamming him against the wall.

Chance saw Valefar choking Galley with one hand, in spite of Galley looking like he needed a crane to lift him up.

"I ain't gonna let some human speak to me like that." Valefar spoke as he brought Galley to his view. Galley felt a strange burn from Valefar's hand, before he saw the pupils in Valefar's eyes were long gone. Red cracks appeared on Valefar's face, starting from his eyes up until his neck.

The same cracks also trailed via his veins and his hands.

"What the fuck." Galley first said. "What the fuck!?"

Valefar's own head did a full turn. His body remained in place, and his head now faced Chance. "You're not gonna do anything? I thought a Haverton should try and keep things under control?"

Chance gave a small breath. "You ain't human Valefar, and I learned from Graham that I shouldn't go head to head with someone not on the same level as me."

"Ha! Smart man." Valefar spoke as he continued to grip Galley's . "Though I have vowed not to interfere with Hellfire Arm contracts, that doesn't limit me from getting into people's heads, like Galley here." The Representative's voice soon disemboweled.

"What are you…" Galley spoke.

"I'm just a Representative of a Gunsmith from Hell." Valefar answered. "And you're gonna help me and Detective Gordon find the Hellfire Arms."

"I never encountered one!" Galley spoke. "Let alone see one in Pembroke!"

"Perhaps your memories will say otherwise." Valefar spoke. "Chance! Take a look around the place. Maybe there's some other lead we can follow. You know this, any information's useful right?"

"The right kind of information." Chance corrected. "Try not to kill him."

"I won't kill him." Valefar spoke. "Like a wise man once said, a dead man's words won't mean anything, cause he ain't speaking at all. Get it?"

Interrogation is one thing, but even I have standards, Chance thought as he made his way to the kitchen, and saw the telephone as well as a note. Galley didn't seem to be the best at hiding stuff.

STONECIPHER AV. HIGH NOON.

Chance teared up the note and placed it into his coat pocket. Next he walked over to the bedroom. The place was messier than a barnhouse. Galley's room made a pig pen look like a reasonable place. It reminded him of that time his grandfather Ulysses brought him to one in Scarburrow. Chance stopped gazing at the wall or the dirty clothes as a bright blue matchbox caught his eye. He looked at the writing imprinted on the side: The Tango Bar.

He lifted his head up as soon as he heard Galley screaming in the background. Chance blitzed back to the living room to see Valefar choking onto Galley.

But Valefar wasn't in his human disguise.

Valefar's mouth was the first thing Chance noticed. A large gaping mouth consisting of toothpick style white teeth, tens of them on the bottom row, while the same thing could be said about the upper row. His skin in general was a swampy green, his eyes bursting in blood red. As Galley's neck was still held by Valefar, the man was shaking.

"So this is what you really look like?" Chance asked Valefar who turned his head.

"Ha! This isn't even the last one." Valefar replied.

"You mean-"

"I'll leave that to your imagination. You find anything useful?"

Chance pulled out the note he found. "Alright shithead, start talking." Valefar spoke. "Who's so important for you to meet in the evening?"

Galley shuddered in fear as his eyes were still looking at Valefar's form; one of them anyway.

"I could do worse than kill you." Valefar said.

"I'm meeting a guy from Drip Work Inc." Galley said. "A Dripper."

"You picked a really bad time for getting someone killed." Chance spoke as he looked at the note before he sat on a chair across Valefar and Galley.

"I wasn't trying to get someone killed." Galley reasoned.

"Then what's the meeting about?" Valefar spoke angrily.

"Angus wanted me to grab connections with Drip Work Incorporated, form an alliance, but that was before he got himself caught at the freaking Midnight Owl!" exclaimed Galley.

"When you meeting the guy? Today?"

"Tomorrow, at high noon he wants it."

"Give us his name. Now." Valefar spoke loudly as Galley simply stared, before the demon bit one of his fingers off. Galley screamed in pain as Valefar spat out his ring finger.

"We could go all day cause you got 9 more." Valefar spoke.

"Earl Wayne Johnson! Earl Wayne Johnson!" Galley said before he felt his head smacked by Valefar's demonic head. Galley's eyes closed quicker than a slammed door, as Valefar morphed back into his human cover as George Vale.

"Next time, try not to bite off someone's finger." Chance spoke sternly.

"Some people learn the hard way Chance, I was just reminding Galley of that." Valefar spoke. "But thankfully for you, I do remember the man: Earl Wayne Johnson. Man of the South, enjoys freedom, a lot of it. That man's behaviour was hard NOT to notice."

"Any advice on tackling this Johnson?"

"You're gonna need firepower." Valefar scratched his head. "A lot of it."

***

Matthew King felt the blood spew out from his rat body as he ventured through the sewers. Strangely today the waters were flowing faster than they would before, as they splashed his fur. He knocked out a sewer lid as he went back up onto the surface.

He panted as he slowly reverted back to his human-rat form. Most of the bullets that detective Chance Gordon shot at were quite close to his heart. Some of the bullets even managed to hit him where blood normally flows from the heart.

He looked up to see a man wearing crimson. The Rat King fiddled and maintained his posture as Bright was in front of him.

"Mr. Bright, I-" The Rat King spoke, just as the remainder of his army began to appear on the surface level as well. Nobody else was around but him and Bright. That was the thing about alleyways in the deeper parts of eastern side of the city. Buildings were closer to each other than only a few wide areas were available.

The one The Rat King was in right now wasn't full of witnesses.

"You failed to kill that Haverton detective." Bright started. "And he was a human."

"He had help! He had an army."

"So did you."

"A Hellfire Arm user literally helped him! It's not my fault that cop with the All-American could give out guns to allies, and not get affected by the contract!"

"You also killed a cop on spot, that's going to motivate the MPD more into searching the entire city."

"That cop." The Rat King spoke about Jim Rollins. "Killed me, shot me in the back until I fell into the sewage water. You know what it's like to be dead!?" The Rat King screamed but he soon felt something forced through his stomach. He looked down to see Bright's Crimson '45 puncturing his stomach like a knife.

Crimson liquid started to spew out of The Rat King's mouth. At the corner of his eye, the other rats began to shriek and reek of crimson aura as well.

"No.." The Rat King begged. "I was already dead once.."

"Nobody likes rats, especially if they don't serve any purpose anymore." Bright said as he swung his Crimson '45, swiping The Rat King's upper body away from his legs and hitting the wall. The Rat King fell down with his upper body, as he felt his eyes burn and saw his lower body fall like a tower. Next, Bright crouched down, holstering his Hellfire Arm before he shoved his index finger into The Rat King's. The Rat King screamed in agony as smoke appeared from his neck.

The Rat King's Adam's apple disappeared, before his head turned to the side. A dead rat, and a dead rat king at that.

Bright saw The Rat King, the Hellfire Arm, placed near the dead body.

Bright picked up the Rat King's Hellfire Arm. It didn't affect him as he already had the Crimson '45.

"Can't let those cops or the Havertons get a hold of this." Bright said of the Rat King Hellfire Arm. As he placed it in his pocket, he pulled out another Hellfire Arm.

This particular Hellfire Arm was a medium sized revolver with a sturdy barrel. It's grippings were black, while a red lining was on the barrel itself. "I know just the right person for this." Bright spoke of the particular Hellfire Arm.

Next stop, he thought, Ryder's Island.