Demon Hunter

A gleam catches Emory's eye and she finds his sword shattered to pieces on the bloody cement floor

Her attention shifts back to the strange man. He still has the beast of a demon pinned up against the basement wall, the only one that hasn't been cracked into from bodies being slammed around, and his arm shakes as he chokes the life out of it. The demon falters, teeth baring at them in threat even in the woes of it's death, and then his red eyes dim to darkness.

First the man pulls his fist out of the beasts chest. His cuff links come back soaked in thick black blood, and he shakes his hand out to get rid of most of it as it hits the floor. He makes a disgusted sound and let's go of the demons neck so it falls with a heavy thud, then proceeds to wipe his black blooded hand against his black slacks.

He turns to face Emory, green eyes glaring, "Why didn't you run?"

"Who are you?" The question leaves her in a whisper full of awe. The amount of strength he must hold has to be amazing.

"I'm Rome, a demon hunter."

Emory faulters, her eyes widening as Mrs. Marlene's voice echoes in her head. She doesn't even register his name.

You invited a demon hunter?

Is he the one Priestess Promilia invited?

"My friend-" Emory starts, her hands going straight for the wound the goo seeped into only to stop last second from touching it. It looks bad compared to the other two wounds on Walkers chest. It's red and festering, and the severed skin curls away from his twitching body.

"Is he dead?" The blonde man asks as he gently nudges Walker's seizing leg with his polished leather shoe. Her hand strikes his calf before she knows it and she glares back at him through tearful eyes.

There's a swirl of emotions ripping through her, horror at the slaughter of her coven, devastation at what happened to Walker, disgusted that it's all her fault and while it all lingers in the back of her mind to process later, this asshole isn't being considerate in the slightest.

"No! He's not dead!" She snaps at him. She can feel her silver hair glued to her cheek with what she has no doubt is blood. Who's it is could be any number of guesses, seeing as everyone but Emory of her coven is dead.

"Then what's wrong with him?" He asks.

Emory doesn't hesitate, the words rushing out of her, because he's a demon hunter, so he must know what it is that entered Walkers body. "There was this black slime thing a-and it climbed, well, it more like slid like a snail? Into his wound and now he's not waking up!" Emory knows she sounds crazy right now, what she's saying doesn't make any sense. She almost shakes her hands at him to show him the black goo that coated her skin when she tried to move it, only it's not their anymore and she doesn't want to know where it went.

Before the blonde man with forest green eyes can say anything, Walker stops convulsing. Emory pauses, waiting for him to start shaking again. When he doesn't, she gently nudges his shoulders, "Walker?" Her voice is small and unsure.

His eyes flash open, and he goes through a transition in a matter of seconds. The red of his scales darken to charcoal black, his eyes cloud with darkness until it encompasses all of his whites, including his ruby red irises. He grins up at her, the smile cutting as he brandishes sharp teeth.

Emory is shoved back, but she doesn't know who did it, was it Walker? No, arms hold her from behind as they fly through the air. Her body twists, so she lands on top of the person holding her.

The demon hunter blinks up at her, strands of silver hair falling onto his face, before he rolls them away. Walker lands where they were moments before, his new black claws cracking the cement floor. They're a lot longer now, and sharp.

"What's wrong with him?" Emory pants as they both shove up to their feet, her slipping and sliding in the blood. At this point, with the large number of bodies, the entire basement floor is covered in a layer of blood or smear.

"He's been possessed." The hunter growls out, head tilting back as he regards Walker with a deadly eye.

"Possessed?!" Emory screeches as demon-possessed Walker palms his neck. She remembers the demon crushing his neck in his huge palm, and she worries it may be broken. "You mean the slime thing? That was a demon?!"

The green eyed hunter gives a firm nod.

"You're a hunter! You can exorcise him!" She gasps. He narrows his green eyes at her, lips pressed tight as he scrutinizes her.

"Well, not exactly." He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, green eyes squinting.

"What?!" Emory glowers. "What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

Mrs. Marlene specifically said that Priestess Promilia invited a demon hunter. Is this guy not him then? Or it is him, and he was deceiving her the entire time.

She scowls at him.

"I'm technically not a hunter." He shrugs loosely, his eyebrows slightly raised as he regards her.

"Then what are you?" Emory asks.

"Now's not the time to be having this conversation." He sighs as he gestures at demon - possessed Walker, who just seems to be standing there, glancing between them.

"Well, I won't let you kill him!" Emory shouts, her chest squeezing with panic. She already lost everything no less than ten minutes ago, the thought will haunt her when she gets the chance to focus on it, but Walker is now the last thing she holds precious. He was there for her when she first arrived at this coven of witches, when Mavis stopped talking to her, and even now, for something as insignificant as a familiar when he's a dragon shifter. And he saved her life, even when he knew he might not make it out alive.

"Nows not the time for sympathetics, either." The hunter snaps, "Look around you! You're entire coven has been slaughtered. All I see is a possessed dragon boy, and one sad excuse of a witch. You'll be sentenced to death for something you didn't do."

Only I did.

The demon hunter glares at her, grabs her arm and shoves her back. Emory lands on her ass with a wet splat, the air thick with the scent of copper and death.

"Now either he dies, or we -" He's cut off as he flies back. Walker is feral, he's foaming black at the mouth, the veins of his skin has darkened, webbing across his face and neck, down his arms to his legs.

Fear grips Emory's throat, her best friend is gone, taken over by something evil.

Only walker doesn't hurt her. He faces the hunter, - the not-hunter if his words are to be trusted- his back to Emory. Horns rip through the scaled skin of his elbows, the color darkened like the rest of him.

The hunter - she'll just stick with that until she remembers his name - leaps at Walker and she screams in fright when Walker does the same. They collide into each other, scaled claws and steel of a pair of daggers clashing. She assumes the hunter had them hidden beneath his sleeves.

Emory doesn't understand how Walker, uh demon possessed Walker, does it, how he can angle his claws just right to block the sharp blades. How one slight slip could cut him, could cause him to lose a finger.

Emory gasps when the hunter feints a right, but is quick to strike with the dagger in his left. Steel slides into flesh, and then drags all the way through with little resistance. Blood spurts from the wound on Walker's neck as the hunter pulls his large dagger back.

"No!" Emory screams when the hunter goes to cut the rest of his head off. She leaps in front of Walker, body tense, eyes closed as she expects to get cut. Only demon Walker is fast, fast enough to wrap his arms around her waist and whirl them around. Sharp steel cuts into scaly flesh, for the nth time, blood splatters across her face, and Walker's head rolls across the floor.

Emorys legs give out, eyes wide as she stares at Walker, at his severed head, at his bleeding body. "What have you done," Her voice is hollow and wobbly to her own ears. With shaky hands she stretches them out towards Walkers' head, his strange black eyes staring at her. His hair darkens as blood thickens it, but then rough hands grab Emory by the wrists.

"No, no," she sobs, trying to get out of his hold.

"I had too," The man growls as he ties rope around her hands.

"No!" She screams, the sound shrill. She fights against him, "He was protecting me," She sobs.

The memory plays in her head, the way he held her, the way he spun them so she wouldn't get hurt. "He was protecting me!" She tries to turn in his grip, rage and grief fueling her. It's all to much, all at once.

The hunter stares at her with pity, as if she was delusional, trying to protect her friend's image.

Emory hates him then. Hates the way he looks at her like she's stupid, like a little simple minded witch who needed to believe her friend was good even when it was impossible because he was possessed by the purest form of evil.

She screams, a sound full of her anger and anguish. The air warms against her blood stained skin, and she knows what he's going to do.

"I know you're angry, but this is for your own good."

And then his magic races through her, a soft warm buzz that spreads through her veins. Her vision blurs and she falls into darkness.