009 - From the ashes

Suddenly, the sleeping man opened his eyes with a fierce coldness like a demon jumping out of hell, and clamped down on the hand that was a few inches away from him.

He pulled the owner of the hand forward to make the intruder lose his balance, and used his other hand to strike at his throat, but the intruding man proved himself to be capable, as he was fast enough with his reactions to block the blow.

Daemon didn't mind. He turned the hand knife strike into a hold that kept the other hand of the intruder locked, and used his leg to knee the side of the exposed abdomen. Not letting the intruder recover, much less try to retaliate, he spread his legs and put his opponent in a chokehold, using enough force to immobilize him.

But the intruder also had it in him, as he didn't surrender. He struggled, and used his leg to hit the lever of the bed and destabilize it, making it go down while he cashed on the opportunity to use his other foot to aim a strike at Daemon's face.

The latter frowned and let go of the man, but not before delivering a fast and heavy punch to his diaphragm.

The intruder lost his breath and hit the wall with his back. Relentless, Daemon stood up to follow him.

He gave him an uppercut to add to his troubles, and took advantage of his disoriented state to put him in another chokehold from behind, with his hands this time, while keeping him immobilized against his chest.

As the intruder's face was alternating between different mixes of color, and not due to any feeling of excitement, he made one last effort while trying to use his arms to free himself:

"Ins… Ins… pec… tion…"

Daemon frowned, but decided to take no risk.

*Crack*

Darkness took over the mind of the intruder after his neck was made to produce that noise.

_ _ _

_ _ _

'Alive.'

That was the first thought that came to the mind of the intruder, before he blinked discreetly a few times to better shake off the grogginess.

While welcoming waves of pain from different parts of his body, he found that he was sitting on a chair. He winced at the fierce pain from his neck that he knew would take quite a while to go away.

With more light in the room now, his appearance became clear.

He was a man that was not too old, less than thirty, well groomed, with no beard nor mustache, and he was wearing a dark suit. His appearance was quite banal, with nothing to help him distinguish himself in a crowd.

When the person in question remembered what had happened before he lost consciousness, he didn't dare to hold any resentment. He could only lament in his mind:

'Why was I chosen for this errand? Even after months in a coma that should have left him weak, he remained a monster.'

He looked around and ascertained that he was still in the hospital room. If he had not been lucky and smart at the end, he might have still been at the hospital, but not sitting on a seat, instead lying in a cold drawer, and even then, only if the cleaners had not come to take him away yet.

He looked at the empty bed where everything that had been in his pockets was placed casually. Then he looked at Daemon, who was standing before the window, with his back to him, looking at the morning light that was coming after the night.

"You are awake. It has been almost an hour."

The intruder winced in pain as he tried to move, but also because of the information Daemon gave him. One hour without consciousness, at the mercy of anyone and anything. Less than that was needed to cost dearly in his line of work.

"I'm really from the "Inspection". I only came to deliver something to you."

He didn't want to be manhandled again, so he wanted to clear any possible misunderstanding while he had the opportunity, and his losses were still manageable.

"I know. If not, why do you think you are still alive?"

Daemon replied indifferently, his sight still focused outside. But the intruder felt relieved more than anything else. At least, now his life would not be in jeopardy anymore.

"Take your things and go"

"Cough, sir Daemon, there is a protocol-"

Daemon cut him off:

"I am only keeping what they sent you to deliver because I want peace. The rest, I don't care."

The intruder who didn't even get to introduce himself looked at the things on the bed, then at Daemon who had not given him a look since he woke up, and could only resign himself to obey.

He swallowed the pain from his aching body and went to take his identification document first. It was just a magnetic card with his photo and a string of numbers following a few letters. It was the simplest, so he started with that.

His phone was in pieces, so he picked the pieces up and put them in another pocket. As for the gun he had been issued, it was also in pieces, looking even cleaner than when he cleaned it the previous morning.

He was certain that even if he were to send it to the lab, no trace of Daemon would be found on it. That was the minimum standard to become feared as the best at the job he was retiring from.

Even the bullets were out of the magazines, one of which had been in the gun, and the spare one that he was used to keeping in his belt.

He didn't dare to put the gun together in the room, to avoid looking like a threat, and like his phone, he picked up everything before turning to Daemon:

"I… I'm leaving. Welcome back, and good luck."

Daemon knew that the good luck was because he was among the few that had left his old job alive, and in one piece at that.

So he loosened up a bit and showed a small smile:

"Next time, try not to sneak up on people of the "D Section" to avoid shortening your lifespan."