Daemon's Play (1)

The air in Daemon's apartment building had thickened with blood and tension, the walls drenched in the aftermath of the battle. His first opponent, a Beast Killer, had met his end swiftly—less than 20 seconds, a clean kill that sent a cold message to anyone who dared to challenge him. The mercenaries that had been lurking in the shadows fled, scattering in a panicked frenzy toward the lower floors.

Daemon didn't chase. That would've been too easy.

Instead, he stood in the center of the ruined room, feeling the heat in his blood, the battle hunger that only increased with every strike.

Without hesitation, he turned and leaped—straight through the ceiling and over the broken beams, soaring effortlessly, covering nine floors in a single, savage jump. The air screamed as he cut through it, his body a blur of motion, the adrenaline surging through his veins.

When Daemon hit the ground, it was with a thunderous crash. The concrete cracked beneath his boots, dust and debris flying in every direction. He straightened up, looking around.

There were a lot of mercenaries, scattered across the courtyard. But Daemon wasn't focused on them. His eyes locked on the five Beast Killers standing in a tense line, their eyes wide with both curiosity and fear. The others were nowhere to be seen.

Daemon smirked, eyes narrowing.

"Where are the rest of you?" he called, his voice low and mocking.

One of the mercenaries, a man with a scar cutting across his face, sneered. "They ran. They knew who you were."

Daemon raised an eyebrow. "Y'all didn't fucking know you were fighting meeeeee?"

The group of mercenaries shifted uncomfortably, but Daemon's attention was already on the five Beast Killers in front of him. Two of them stepped forward—ruthless killers who had faced countless enemies in their time. They thought they had a chance. But Daemon wasn't just an opponent. He was a goddamn storm.

The two Beast Killers charged, moving fast, but Daemon was already three steps ahead.

With a swift movement, Daemon pulled the revolver from his holster, not even bothering to aim as he squeezed off a shot. The first Beast Killer's face exploded in a burst of blood and bone as the bullet tore through his skull. He didn't even have time to scream, dropping like a ragdoll to the ground with a sickening thud.

The second Beast Killer came in swinging, a long blade aimed for Daemon's throat. But Daemon sidestepped with ease, the movement so fluid it seemed like he was dancing. He grabbed the Beast Killer's arm mid-swing, twisting it behind his back and slamming the guy's face into the pavement. The man let out a sharp cry of pain, but Daemon wasn't done. With a grin that was all teeth, Daemon pulled out his sword, the long, gleaming blade reflecting the dim light.

"Can't even land a hit. Pathetic."

With a swift flick of his wrist, Daemon sliced through the Beast Killer's neck, decapitating him in one clean stroke. The head rolled to the side, eyes wide in shock, before it came to rest in the dirt.

Daemon wiped the blade on the man's torn clothing, his eyes scanning the remaining three Beast Killers and the mercenaries who had gathered in a loose circle around him.

"You three," Daemon growled, "you think you can keep hiding? Come on, then. You want to play? I'm ready."

The remaining Beast Killers looked at each other, hesitant. They knew Daemon was a force unlike anything they had ever faced. But they weren't the kind of men to back down. One of them, a hulking figure with a large scar running across his chest, grunted and charged forward, his claws glinting under the moonlight.

Daemon didn't even flinch. He holstered the revolver and spun his sword effortlessly, cutting the air like a blade of wind. The Beast Killer slashed at Daemon with a roar, but Daemon was already behind him. In an instant, Daemon's sword sank into the Beast Killer's side, the blade tearing through flesh and bone with a sickening sound.

The Beast Killer staggered, eyes wide with disbelief as blood poured from the wound. Daemon didn't give him a chance to recover, slamming his fist into the man's back and sending him crashing into the ground with enough force to crack the pavement beneath him.

"Not even a challenge," Daemon muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Pathetic."

But the other two Beast Killers weren't done. They rushed at him together, one from the left and the other from the right. Daemon's eyes lit up with sadistic delight as he watched them move, grinning as the fight unfolded. He was enjoying himself, savoring every moment of this.

The first Beast Killer came in with a wide swipe of his claws, aiming for Daemon's throat. But Daemon sidestepped with ease, his movements too fast for the Beast Killer to track. In the same motion, Daemon twisted and slammed his elbow into the man's ribcage, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone.

The second Beast Killer, more agile and skilled than his partner, leaped toward Daemon with a blade in hand. But Daemon was already on the move, stepping backward and drawing his revolver in the same fluid motion. He fired twice in quick succession. The first bullet hit the Beast Killer in the shoulder, causing him to falter, but it was the second shot that did the damage—straight through the heart.

The Beast Killer collapsed, blood pouring from the wound as his body hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Daemon wiped the blood off his revolver with a smirk, his chest rising and falling with satisfaction.

The remaining mercenaries and Beast Killers stood frozen, watching the carnage unfold before them. Daemon's bloodlust had risen to a fever pitch. His entire body was humming with energy, with the kind of power that made him feel like he could burn down the world if he wanted to.

He tossed the revolver aside, letting it clatter to the ground, and cracked his knuckles.

"Now," Daemon said, his voice dripping with amusement, "who's next?"

The remaining mercenaries hesitated, none of them eager to be the next victim of Daemon's rage. The last two Beast Killers, realizing they were outmatched, exchanged nervous glances. They had seen what he was capable of, and they weren't sure if they were willing to die for the sake of pride.

"Come on," Daemon taunted, "I thought Beast Killers didn't run from a fight. What's the matter? Too scared to die?"

The two Beast Killers shared a brief moment of uncertainty, but the hunger for battle pushed them forward. They charged together, moving with coordinated precision. They were fast, skilled, and deadly. But Daemon was faster, stronger, and ruthless.

He dodged the first attack, ducking under a swing of the blade, before driving his elbow into the Beast Killer's stomach with enough force to crack ribs. The man gasped for breath, staggering backward.

Before he could recover, Daemon launched himself into the air, delivering a spinning kick that sent the Beast Killer flying into a nearby wall.

The last one tried to strike, but Daemon's sword came down like a hammer, cleaving the man in half before he had time to scream.

With the last of the Beast Killers dead, Daemon stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving with exhilaration. Blood soaked his hands and clothes, but the only thing that mattered to him now was the thrill of the fight.

The remaining mercenaries stood in stunned silence, watching as Daemon surveyed the wreckage. They knew they were outmatched. They knew this was over.

Daemon's gaze shifted to the remaining men.

"Anyone else?"

No one moved.

Daemon grinned, a wicked smile that sent chills through the mercenaries. "That's what I thought."

With a final, satisfied look at the bloodied battlefield, Daemon turned and began walking back toward the building, leaving a trail of death and destruction in his wake. He was only getting started.