A Job fit for a bounty hunter part 2

Emelie opened the door with a plastic bottle filled with lighter fluid, cloth and a small bottle of schnapps along with her.

"Does this work?"

"Well, I would have preferred Baileys but this will do."

"ha-ha, very funny."

Haha, yeah, I was totally joking.

He gave her a calming smile. He then took the bottle of schnapps and opened the little lid, which gave off that satisfying plop sound. As he brought the bottle to his nose, the smell of dill and ethanol hit him. I don't understand how some people like this?

The strong and tongue-hurting taste hit him as he swallowed a mouthful.

"Well, sod off. Go inside, can't have my pay distributor get hurt."

She stayed quiet and looked at him for a few seconds before smiling.

"The answer is no." No? Christopher raised an eyebrow as he didn't follow.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend. Good luck."

Without further explanation, she went inside with the dog Olof who gave away a sad whimpering sound as he had to part away from his newfound friend. Christopher was left with the bottle of schnapps in his hand, alone as he prepared for an unknown encounter. Silence. The autumn wind and his own rassling from making a torch were all that was heard now. Or, well, the only things louder were the thoughts that streamed through his head. Something feels off. He had put the cloth on a stick and then drenched it with lighter fluid. He then looked towards the hill where the barn was planted, like an unbreachable fortress rooted in the ground. The moonlight revealed red-painted wood, which had become darker with the decades that passed. Maybe it's just the romance in the air causing all this drama in my body. He began the short journey upward the hill. He made sure to keep his pace as he walked. The more determined he forced himself to be, the easier the fear and nervous guts would let go. Causing his heartbeat to go faster to convince himself he was just out of breath. He finally reached the big wooden door with a metal gate lock on the outside. He pulled out his sword and threw the hilt on the ground. He then proceeded to light up the torch, making a fire that ignited blue and weak but would soon grow in size and become yellow. He stood before the doors, anxious as he took deep breaths. Like standing knees high in cold water, debating whether you should jump in and get the chock over with. That's it. Now let's kill this definitely-not-a-fox-thing. He unlocked the door, and with both hands equipped, he kicked it open.

Hay flew inside the dark barn from the door swinging open as dry air streamed down his lungs. He stepped in slowly and grasped his surroundings, waving the torch around him to reveal the hidden secrets; meanwhile, the fire ignited strands of hay that flew around. My nose is itching, damn it. Ah, fuck it, forget the itching. The barn floor had dry grass over its wooden planks. The building had two levels: one seemed like half a floor for equipment and an overview, whilst the bottom was purposefully meant for animals during the winter. It was large enough to host twenty or so cows and horses. Speaking of cows, the corpse of what he assumed to be the murdered cow was laid in the middle of the floor. Between the itching from the hay, he could feel the rotten stench of old eggs in his nose. The cow was covered in flies that were on top of it. Not flying, just sitting in the nightlight emitted from the open entrance. Its ribs were clearly visible, and it had begun moulding in a green and fungi manner. Christ be good; my eyes are tearing up. What kind of creatu-

"ACHOOO!"

Christopher interrupted himself with three violent sneezes.

"Gods curse hayfever."

As he pulled up his sleeves to wipe snot away, he looked around in the barn. Creaking sounds from the floor made him uneasy.

"Look, whatever you are in here, whether a hobo or a fox or even a demon, Just reveal yourself and fight me; I will burn down this place otherwise!"

He was met with yet more silence and his own snarky nose. He took some more steps yet further inside the barn. It could still be a boar, or maybe just the plague that got the cow. Why did I choose this profession again? He reached the corpse, and to his horror, he viewed the cow. Its eyes had been plucked out, and its tongue was missing from its gaping dead mouth. Ripped and eaten from its lower belly, the stomach was untouched and bloated like a balloon whilst the intestines were lying on the floor. He had to cover his mouth well not to get too distracted by the smell. It looked like the animal had been dragged as the wooden floor had blood trails on them.

"Well, maybe not a boar." As he uttered the words, the doors flew shut with a bang startling our bounty hunter and making what little light that came from the outside disappear, only leaving his torch as a reliant light source left for him.

"Fucking hell, what kind of messed up animal does that?!" A whisper could be heard from all directions, a slight rustle from the above floor. He had a hard time interpreting the faint whisper. He began facing all directions with the sword always pointing forward and the torch on his left side. Not a demon, not a demon, not a demon! It could just be the wind. Facing left, facing right, looking up, looking down and yet there was no clear direction of any whereabouts.

Clear laughter could be heard, raspy and harsh, like the vocal cords had been damaged, as the rusty strings on a guitar.

"Little man-thing, you wander here alone into the devil's den. what are you hoping to achieve?" The anonymous voice said. Definitely a demon, definitely a demon, definitely a demon. Okay, calm the fuck down. Play it cool.

"You are intruding on private land, I have been contracted to remove you. Sir? You don't happen to be homeless?"

"Someone's land? Foolish humans think they can own dirt and stone. This land do not belong to Kûflags."

This is really fucking bad. It's a demon and a smart one too. They don't speak normally.

"Woah, woah, woah! Now listen here, I don't wanna waste my holy water on you, as I could be using it on stronger Demons. So. We can resolve this peacefully." I didn't even bring the schnapps as protection, let alone holy water.

A spine-chilling laughter could be heard echoing through the barn. But as Christopher sharpened his ears, he could tell it came from above.

"Stronger Demons? Seven sins, thirteen misfortunes and ninety-one nightmares. If you ever meet something stronger than me, you would not be breathing."

Oh, I did hurt it. It's ego. Now keep talking… Christopher began taking slow steps around the rotting cow. Further down the hall, he believed he saw stairs from when the door was open.

"You really think that a man-thing can defeat a mare, let alone with holy water? It's just water Kûflag ape. Such insolence, such filthy demeanour, it must be punished. Punished. PUNISHED."

The last word, "punished," echoed from all directions. Each time sharper, like air blowing in a concentrated manner through a tunnel until the last echo whistled like a poorly tuned flute. Where did the voice come from this time? Fuck it. Continue forward.

"I don't know why you are counting, but you surely sound interesting. Now tell me, fiend. Should I spike your head on a wall or lock you in a cage like a pet?"

No!? Why did I say that?!?! I have never spoken to a demon. They are supposed to be dauntingly braindead and screamy.

"Brave words, don't you think I can tell lies from truth?"

He reached the wooden staircase. A creepy and revealing creaking could be heard when he placed his foot on the stairs.

"Don't you think I can tell what you are trying to do?"

Oh balls, keep his mouth running, just need him to talk a little longer.

Although the voice came from a direction, not knowing whether he was chasing or being chased only indicated the former. The creaks echoed loud as he walked up the stairs, a horrifying thing as he could only see two metres ahead and one meter behind with the torch blossoming in his hand. Only seeing the wooden stairs reveal themselves individually whilst the path behind him drowned in the darkness.

"Do you know what happens when you enter a demon's domain bounty hunter?" The whisper suddenly stopped, like a loyal hound standing down to let its owner speak.

"Nope, but continue talking."

Demons are easily bored creatures. If it is of the more potent sorts? Why has it not attacked me yet? The hallway downstairs started creaking from every corner, causing him to stop. As he froze and looked down, it almost sounded like the creaking began walking up the same stairs he was on. Startled by the sound, Christopher hurled himself through the last few steppes onto the barn's second deck.

"When a demon creates a domain, he warps the wandering wind, creating a sphere of influence to fit into his advantage…." Christopher could feel dust falling down on him as the fabricated creaking sounds continued.

This is a first time for talking demons, but fuck, does it talk. I'm not scared, just on edge. Something is definitely of. Could it be a trap? Is it trying to scare me away? Is it still talking? What the fuck is it jabbering on about?

"…Like a small replica of Gehenna, causing your feeble man mind to feel disorientated."

Wait? Where did the voice come from?

"Didn't you listen? Bounty Hunter."

His eyes opened wide like the night sky, his hair rose like an aggravated cat's, and his spine spasmed in terror. The last sentence was heard loud and clear in which direction it came from. The wet sound of a crooked tongue forming every syllable of that meaning was heard in Christopher's right ear. Disgusted, repulsed even as he turned around with the sword tip, not choosing flight. It was not an option. Yet there was only an empty dark room on the barn's top floor.

"AHAGHAGHGAHGA, little man thing. Already trapped in my cage, perhaps I shall hang your head on a wall? Nourish and posses your headless corpse?"

The laughter was as awful as the demon was cruel. The creaking had stopped suddenly. His heart was racing, and the drumming chest would either explode from Christopher or be the war drum out. Think, think, think, damn it. The demon would have killed me by now. It's bluffing.

"Tell me, hunter. What is thy name?"

Should I tell him? No?Yes? He's been playing games with me all night.

"Christopher Anders, get to the point."

Whispers, threats, creaking, it's all toying; he is not bluffing. He's fucking bored! Can't burn the barn down; he locked us in. Shit

"Christopher Anders, I will not confront you. Instead I will starve you and take your body as my own, to keep you as a slave to my biding."

Wait… I could locate the creaking… it came from downstairs… Yet it could be a trick…

"I would prefer you dead, but I will keep you alive to harnesh your memories."

… It can't be a trick… for wooden planks to creak, they must be elevated… There must be a cellar in the barn which I have not seen… Otherwise, how could the floor creak if the floor was pressed to solid ground?

"Now, we can do this easily for ourselves. Christopher. Give me the information I need, and I will grant you a quick death. No lies now. A deal with the devil?"

So if there is a potential cellar, that's where it would be? But the entrance? ….It's blocked by the fucking cow. Holy shit, I might have cracked it.

"I'm looking for a girl, a foul breed of demon, she carries something valuable…"

He weighed the torch in his hand as it was flickering and hissing like a snake. He moved towards the ledge of the top floor, trying to remember the whereabouts of the dead cow. It seems that the stars might be aligning here, the cow's swollen belly, If I can just hit that, it might be enough to surprise the demon…wait, is it still talking?

"…What do you say, hunter?"

Here goes nothing.

"I'm dragging you out of the basement."

"What?"

With the remaining brain cells working in Christopher Anders's head, he threw the torch downwards without a second to lose towards the cow's carcass; as the falling wind almost extinguished the falling fire while only hoping that he was hitting, his heart skipped a beat. The torch reignited again as it hit the mass with a thump on the corpse. The flies lifted into the air before it combusted in a small explosion from built-up methane gas that had gathered in the cow's stomach. The cow set fire from the aggressive reaction, causing the flies on it to scatter. And downstairs, he could hear the hissing like someone being burnt. Christopher looked intensely around the corpse to see what hidden clues it could reveal. The fire had spread to some of the hay, causing a fire that indeed lit up the barn. Yet what he also noticed were the gaps between the floor planks.

I got the fucker! I'M A FUCKING GENIUS!

"TREASURE AND BOOTY; HERE I COME DEMON!" As the words left his mouth, a sudden urge of adrenaline hit him, knowing that he had outplayed a demon. Without thinking, he jumped down from the second floor. No time could be lost; he was on the devil's tail and planned to pull it.

As he landed next to the flaming dead cow, he regretted it instantly from the sudden chock as the floor crumbled and caved in, revealing another level in the barn. The carcass followed him down as they landed on yet another haystack.

The moment's rush nullified the pain of landing on the floor from a three-meter jump and then crashing through to the bottom.

He quickly rose up again with the sword ready. He swiftly got up on his legs again, coughing up the smoke from the cow spreading its fire. So I finally found you, demon.

Yes indeed, on the other side of the burning cow cadaver spreading its mayhem to the nearby hay, was the demon itself. It was a bearded-looking man in his fifties. Or that's maybe what he used to be. His left eyesocket was gone, and his other functioning eye was bloated with blood. His skin was mouldy and green. The face had begun rotting, and his lips were utterly gone revealing his naked, rotting black and yellow teeth. His left arm was missing, like it had been decapitated. His ribs were visible as the thing had no shirt on, and a clear yellow leaking intestine was hanging out. The head was bald on top, with long stringy hair on the sides. Using a once-free man as a vessel for its own twisted ambitions. It's a pox demon if we are to go by looks, yet no plague is roaming down south. What is it doing here?

"So now you found me, hunter!" The demon was staring at him with his bloated eyes, with only the ignited cow keeping them away from an inevitable crash.

"Poetic, how you have nose dived into the bottoms of hell to figh-"

"Shut it fuckface! No more magic tricks, no more talking and no more blueballing."

Blueballing? That sounded gay.

"Well then, shall we see how this dance ends, hunter?"

Without a further answer awaited, the demon launched at him across the fires with his one and only working right arm swinging at him as if it was a weapon itself. The response from Christopher was swift as he jumped backwards, evading the arm, which left a whooshing sound behind it. What the fuck was that?! The demon wasted no time as the arm slowed down and changed course upwards in an equally violent swing, moving its working legs closer to him. This time, he could only raise the sword in defence to block the hit. As metal and corrupted flesh clashed, surprise did as well, feeling the sword shaking in his hands, like hitting a rock. The recoil made him step further backwards as yet another swing aimed towards him. Did it hurt its hand?!?!?

Another swing came towards him, which he had to block, the chock as daunting as before. It went for yet another swing which he narrowly dodged, hitting a wall beam behind him. The shaft was left with horrible scratch marks, centimetres deep into the wood. But it didn't stop as he continued to chase Christopher around the room, as if it was playing tango with him. If I can just make it follow me in a blind rage, I might be able to get an opening. From the scratch marks, As he continued to dodge the one-armed demon effectively, he made his way toward yet another wall. Although the attacks were rapid and fast, he only needed to track a foul creature with just one arm, pushed the movements predictably as its centre always was revealed, along with a poor posture for fighting. As he reached the wall, he made sure to stall a little for the fiend to build up power for the punch. As the demon chose to spearhead him this time, he quickly slid to the side. Causing it to hit the wall with its rotting and left-remaining claws, to get stuck. Let's end this.

With a sudden rush of energy, Christopher put his core towards the seconds available to the stuck arm, served to him on a golden plate. The sword went up behind his head before taking one last deep breath and swinging for his life at the exposed limb. The hit landed and cut deep into an almost gummy thick arm. The fiend screeched in pain as the sword was buried almost halfway through. That's it. With ecstatic excitement over beating a full-fledged demon, he gripped the handle of the blade from underneath and pulled upwards to release it from the damaged arm. Ho-ho, the kill my career needed. He raised the sword again as black blood splashed from the demon, placing the weapon behind his head as he swung it with full force towards the fiend's neck. Clink. The sword stopped abruptly. Huh? He couldn't believe his eyes. The demon had caught the blade between its yellow and black teeth mid-swing. Panicked, he tried to wriggle the sword out of the foul beasts frothing mouth. But to no avail, the arteries popped in the neck of the demon that kept the resistance going. At least the arm is dealt with. With the sword in its ferocious mouth, the devil put on a taunting smile.

"What's so funny?"

The demon kept eye contact with Christopher as it slowly began raising its twitching arm that squirted black blood.

Touche' that is funny. Before he could do anything to respond, the arm launched itself towards him, grabbing his neck and taking control of the situation. The demon released the bite on the sword and began running with Christopher in its grip by the throat. Lifting him above the ground and rushing at full speed towards another wall further behind. Slamming Christopher to the wall, still in a chokehold. The demon began its triumphing laugh as he dropped the sword to the floor. If not for the slice earlier, the devil could have easily popped his throat like a ballon in its hand.

"Now, wouldn't like to damage your body, hunter. A new vessel is needed after injuring this one. Don't you thin-"

Slash. The demon shrieked in pain as it had gotten stabbed. Thank God for hidden knives. Now buried in the demon's right leg. In pain, the monster released him from its grip. Out of breath, he slumped to the ground like a ragdoll, heaving in the air. Fucking hell. The fiend gurgled as it pulled out the knife from its leg and raised the foot in anger above Christopher's head. The discoloured skin and sharp black nails on its foot came down like a sledgehammer as he narrowly rolled to the right to avoid its slam.

Without waiting for him to answer, the demon launched at him. He could only take the hit as he landed on the floor with a monster above him. He quickly got up, on his legs face to face again with the horror. He glanced towards the ground where the sword was lying before looking at the devil. Its arm was hanging low as it lost potency as more blood leaked. If I can stay alive long enough, surely it must bleed out? The foe began cackling, sinister, never telling of what it found so funny. The air was thick, warm and filled with smoke as the flames from the dead cow spread to nearby debris.

"None of us are getting out, you will die here in flames while I will be bannished." That's it. That's my cue to leave. Without further warning, he took a leap with both legs in the air as he kicked the demon in the chest, pushing it to the floor whilst falling down himself. The demon fell into a burning corner in the room whilst Christopher landed nearby the sword to pick it up. He grabbed it and got up, hurrying to escape the demon, whose fate was already decided. With his back turned to the mare, he looked toward a ledge in the damaged basement that could bring him up. Breathe in, breathe out. With the thoughts in focus, he took a leap towards a ridge. With aching success, he managed to grip the ledge, beginning to heave himself up, trying his hardest whilst the smoke made his eyes tear up. With the upper body almost through, he could feel a warm hand grab his leg dangling in the basement. As he turned his head, he saw the demon with that filthy smile, but its face looked burned.

"I have a feeling we will meet again, human."

The cooked hand grabbing his leg suddenly felt cold, as if all energy was being sucked.

"You claim victory this day."

Christopher's eyes widened as he could feel the hand gripping harder into his leg, beginning to dig with its black, claw-like nails into his flesh.

"But this will be remembered in Gehenna."

Blood began streaming, but it was not the pain that made him scream. It was the ice-cold hand, the sudden realization of helplessness and despair. The demon stretched his head closer and laid out a verdict with his calm and raspy voice.

"Christopher Anders, from this day forward, I curse you to be my nemesis. I curse you for defeating me. I curse you for stalling my divine mission. I curse you for standing in the way of the dark god's will.

The grip tightened around the leg as he saw white worms slug their way from the demon's rotten body into the open wound that was in his leg.

"Because you dared look down on me, the Mare Demon of Pox, servant of Belzeebub. I am Moloch. I declare your absolute death."

The trembling feeling of disgust, pain, and anxiety was all that spiralled through his nervous system as the worms dug deep into his leg; as they entered fully inside the leg, he felt how they ignited and sealed the wounds. He suddenly felt how the grip loosened, and without further thought, he kicked his way free from the demon's reign. As he climbed his way free, he collapsed on the floor, exhausted a couple of meters away from the edge. He was still in shock, shaking and breathing heavily, not daring to look down at his leg. Trying to calm down while the demon's laughter was heard in the burning fire pit spreading in the basement with cascading smoke clouds launching in the air. After a while, the burning smell of wood was replaced with the one of rotten meat being burned. Eventually, the laughter died out. Most fucked up job so far.

He closed his eyes, trying to gather himself whilst holding tightly onto the sword. Trying to wash away the pictures that were flashing through his head. I have never encountered a sentient Demon. I know the worse kind lures up north, but how did it end here? The frontline was held steady in Mora.

He closed his eyes harder. I need to check up on the leg with a doctor; it feels alright for now. It doesn't hurt any longer, but who knows what diseases it carries? A little fire crackled in the background while a creak could be heard. Amongst the things that Christopher could also hear was his beating heart. It had slowed down in speed, but the pumps felt loud. He almost felt ready to die as sloth and fear gripped him. He couldn't, for the sake of his life, dare open his eyes. He wasn't ready yet to return to the cruel world. What did it mean by cursing me? I could talk to a priest abo-. In the middle of his thoughts, he froze. The terror returned to him. He could feel something large and heavy breath over him and a sudden smack of a jaw closing. A hovering presence of an ominous shadow, letting out its warm wet breath on his stern face. It felt like a fever dream, where the root of all problems kept returning. Without wasting another second, he grabbed his sword in a last-second effort to get the beast breathing over his face. Never opening his eyes, too afraid to see the foul demon devour him, refusing it to be the last face to see before dying. As the pointy end of the sword flew in the direction he had heard the sound come from. He felt a hit. I'm taking you down with me, demon! A whimpering howl followed the sound of the sword piercing deep into its victim. Wait… He finally opened his eyes whilst letting go of the blade. Oh no. As he looked around, he saw that it was brighter than before.

The creature began shaking as it fell down on the ground, making squeaking sounds of pain being silenced by the sound of gurgling. "Oh no. no, no, I really can't have?!".

As a new panic struck him, he completely let off the grip on the sword planted in the creature. He ran over to the barn entrance, which had an open spring. He opened the door and was met with moonlight and external coldness. He looked over to the beast he had slain. What have I done?!

The moonlight lit up the barn to reveal Olaf, with a sword sticking out of its neck.