3 | Busse Woods

Chicago, IL

December 9th, 1978

Venuch had not seen Azzozas in two full days. The snake demon had suddenly grown sullen after he finished speaking to him and disappeared into the shadows soon afterward. Those two days gave him the time he needed to mull over his new life. He was now under the protection of Azzozas…the demon he'd spent decades trying to avoid. This new acquaintanceship had opened plenty of new doors for him and meant he could do so much more for himself without worrying about death.

But that brought him back to his previous thoughts: why had Azzozas not made another appearance in two days?

He and Azzozas both were busy men, but Azzozas was a man with many people who wanted him dead or worse. The only thing that had let him know the man was still alive was Ray had mentioned in passing that Nikita (Azzozas's human disguise) had taken a sick leave for an entire two weeks. Then, shortly afterward, he'd been looking through his desk drawers for a pen when he noticed a bag of money and a letter carefully tucked beside it. He knew it had been from Azzozas upon seeing it.

"What do you have there?" Ray questioned, coming up to Venuch's desk and scaring the absolute shit out of him. "Is it a love letter from a secret partner?"

Venuch gave the shorter man an unamused look. "Do I look like the type to have secret admirers?" That shut Ray right up. He felt somewhat bad for getting snippy with the man considering he'd only been trying to make friendly chat, but he was in no mood to entertain any small talk. This was especially true considering the mounting unease he had from Azzozas's sudden disappearance. What could've made him of all demons take such a long time off of work? Had something suddenly come up? He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. Was there something you needed?" He shoved the money back into his desk drawer.

Ray brushed his apology off and simply smiled at him. "It's perfectly fine. I just wanted to check on you because you seemed rather out of it today. Are you feeling okay, John?"

He stared at Ray, unsure of how to word any of the thoughts in his head. They were too numerous and too tangled within each other to ever hope to be understood. Venuch pursed his lips. Was he okay? Did he feel okay? The main thing was, why did he care? Well of course he'd care, if Azzozas up and died there's no telling who or what would come after Venuch. "I'm fine, just having an off day," he said simply, turning back to his papers. "So, no need to worry yourself with me."

"I see…well there's something else I need to—"

A voice abruptly cut him off, "Mister John Kristiansen! Is there a Mr. Kristiansen here?"

Ray and Venuch shared looks. The blond stood, carefully brushing past the brown-haired men. "Aye, 'tis I you are looking for," he called out to a strange-looking man with round glasses that seemed about ready to fall off the tip of his nose. He was a mousy-looking fellow, wind-tossed bleached hair falling in blue eyes as pale as the moon. Though he was frail, his voice was like that of someone twice his size. Strong and sturdy as the stones within Busse woods. Venuch was confused by who this man was and how he knew his name.

Mouse-man walked toward him; a suitcase tucked beneath his frail arms. "Come with me, there is something urgent I must discuss with you in private," the man whispered. "It concerns him."

Venuch frowned at the man. "And what makes you think I will go willingly with a person I do not know?"

Mouse-man grimaced and readjusted his glasses. "Ah, yes, my apologies. My name is Danka Szalay, I am one of Mr. Petrov's higher-ups, the CHO — Chief Human Resources Officer," He explained quietly enough that it made Venuch have to strain his ears so could hear him (and that was saying something). "I was told I'd find you here. Now, please, there is something urgent I must discuss with you."

Venuch looked over his shoulder at Ray who appeared to be trying to act like he wasn't listening in on the conversation. What could the CHO possibly want from him? "Fine, wait for me in your office and I'll be there shortly."

Danka nodded and disappeared as quickly as he'd come.

"That was the CHO?" Ray questioned incredulously. "He looked like the wind could snap him in half!"

He got the feeling there was something Danka was hiding, for some reason. Deciding not to mention this suspicion to Ray, Venuch sighed and grabbed his bag. "I'll go see what he wants," on instinct he reached out and ruffled Ray's hair. "Keep my desk warm for me, won't you?"

The embarrassment of what he'd just done swiftly kicked him square in his chest. He walked away before Ray could question why he'd done such a thing. Perhaps it would be best to avoid work for a solid week and pretend he didn't know any of his coworkers. How could he ever hope to recover from something like that? As far as Ray knew, he was simply a forty-five-year-old unmarried man. Perhaps he'll have his child come over, so he'll stop accidentally doing such things to people younger than him.

Danka was waiting for him when he entered his office. The silver-haired man sat in a black, office chair with a rather large stack of paper sitting off to the side of him. The bags under his eyes told Venuch all he needed to know about the man's lifestyle. "Thank you for coming as quickly as you could," the shorter man said, taking the stacks of paper and setting them on the floor to be signed later. "This concerns Azzozas as you know."

Venuch's eyebrows furrowed. "Who?"

Exasperated, Danka bit out a rather aggressive reply, "Don't play dumb with me. I know roughly how many demons are in this building and can sense when one I don't know walks in. That is exactly why Azzozas made me the CHO."

Annoyed at the aggression Danka showed him, Venuch glared at him. "My sincerest apologies then, Mr. Szalay. It was not my intention to offend you if I did, I just could not tell you were one of our kind."

Danka replied bluntly, "If you cannot sense another demon, it's a wonder you're even still alive."

A silent 'Go fuck yourself' sat silently in Venuch's head, but he knew when to pick his battles. He was sure Danka was a Wrath Demon but there was something else to him that seemed feline-like despite his delicate constitution and mousy look. He felt vaguely like he was staring into the mouth of a predator once more. Which was ironic considering he was certainly much taller and definitely much sturdier than Danka.

It was something about his eyes.

"Regardless, today is Azzozas's birthday," Danka continued, cleaning off his glasses and squinting at Venuch to properly see him. "A rather important day aside from it being the day of his birth."

Venuch questioned, "What do you mean?"

"I cannot tell you the specifics, but I need you to locate and find him before he does something stupid and provokes an angel again."

This…was confusing him. "Why me? And is he not an angel?"

The flat look Danka gave him only served to annoy Venuch further.

"If he could still freely access his angelic abilities, do you think I would be asking you to find him?" Danka asked, raising a single silver brow. "Regardless, I'm asking you because nobody else he knows wants to do this and you're greedy enough to do it if I promise to give you an angel's weapon."

Affronted, Venuch protested, "That's not true—"

"Archangel-grade short sword with oddly more enchantments than usual. It appears to have a fire-based spell upon it, one only angels would know," Danka snapped, and the short sword appeared on his desk. "Perhaps you could get Azzozas himself to check the validity of such a thing."

He stared at the glistening white metal, hand itching to hold the hilt of it. Take it…take the job. Do you know how long you've been itching for something with fire-based spells? Thoughts of how much more powerful this was than more than half of the archangel weapons in his stash were whispered in his mind. "...Fine. I'll take the job." And something within smiled in content at the thought of owning the weapon.

Danka's eyebrows rose. "I did not believe you'd actually break so quickly. He was right to say your greed precedes you."

"Damn that bastard," Venuch sighed.

The weapon disappeared at Venuch's confirmation and Danka nodded. "You should look for him near churches or other places considered Holy or "close to god." If you cannot find him there, he is no doubt in Busse Woods. Pay close attention to the gossip that circles around the county," Danka advised, handing Venuch a map of all the churches within Cook County. "Whatever you do, do not, under any circumstance, get too close to him for roughly twenty minutes upon finding him. He will be undoubtedly truculent. Unless you wish to die a painful death by the venom of his fangs." The man was nonchalant throughout the explanation, sifting through papers as if he hadn't just informed Venuch he'd more than likely be killed if he did one thing wrong.

"You couldn't have told me this— never mind, never mind," Venuch sighed, folding the map, and tucking it away in his breast pocket.

Danka gave him a wry smile. "Not even Greed can outweigh a death at his hands."

He decided to leave before he tried talking himself out of this.

▬

6:20pm

Why was he even doing this for a man he did not know? Why was he even doing this for a man that hardly deserved his precious time? So many questions and not enough answers to justify the constitution of his situation. His main question, however, was: Why would Azzozas be in any area steeped in the light of god? Sure, he was one of the alarmingly bigger than-expected percentages of angel-blood demons, but he did not appear like the others who desperately raved and cried to be let back into the "Sanctuary of Heaven." No, he was more akin to a true demon than the others, or so he thought.

He looked at his map. The closest church was on Oakton Street, so he figured he'd go check that area first. Brick walls glared down at him despite the warm welcome of the red, wooden double doors. A shiver crept up his spine the closer he grew to touching the door. A part of him did not want to dare even touch the cursed church. He paused with a hand on one of the knobs, glancing around before he forced the door open and stepped inside. "The things I do for my own gain," Venuch sighed.

The inside was ice cold…or at least it felt that way to him. Holy places were hostile to those of demonic energy, and it sapped the mental strength of demons to go to places such as these. He could already feel the heavy weight of his mind pressing in on him as he glanced around in the dark.

He explored the area, looking for signs of Azzozas, and found none. Sighing deeply to himself, he realized this wouldn't be as quick as he'd been hoping.

Venuch spent the next few hours searching every church he could, and, yet he still could not find a trace of Azzozas. He was beyond exhausted from visiting so many holy places in such short amounts of time. He rubbed at his temples as he entered the random bar he'd come across. A drink sounded, ironically, like heaven.

It seemed many mortals had the same idea as he, he noted when he entered the noisy atmosphere, slightly cringing at the volume. He supposed he'd have to deal with it. He should've known the bar would be lively on a Saturday night. He settled himself at the bar, taking a moment to listen to all the chatter happening around him. Danka told him to pay close attention to any and all gossip that happened around, so he ordered nothing but sparkling water and focused.

A gruff voice said, "That howling sound has started up in Busse Woods again."

Another voice, softer and possibly belonging to someone younger, replied, "Really? How do you know?"

"You know my mother lives around there, yeah? She called me at seven talking 'bout she could hear it from her house," the gruff voice explained. "It started two days ago but it got louder tonight. Everyone's convinced it's a ghost haunting the forest, but I think it must be a sick elk."

"What sick elk can recreate that sound, Mike, you chump."

The gruff voice, now recognized as Mike, bit back, "Oh, sit on it, Louis, nobody knows what the fuck's happening in there anyway."

"What? I'm not even upset!"

Deciding to leave Mike and Louis to their arguing, Venuch downed his sparkling water, paid the bartender, then stood and left. Seems Busse Woods was his next area to search.

11:30 pm

The woods were oddly silent at this moment. Stiller than even a statute could ever hope to be. Rather unnerving in Venuch's opinion. That man, Mike or whatever his name was, had mentioned there'd been "howling" here, but he heard nothing but the sound of his shoes crushing the underbrush. Really, he couldn't understand the appeal of prancing around in a forest at nearly midnight. If he was so upset he could've locked himself in his house and holed up in there. He kept his focus on any sounds that would be out of place for a forest.

The grass was still dewy as evident by how quickly his shoes started glistening. He made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat—he should've worn something besides dress shoes. Crickets quietly chirped in the darkness of night, singing alongside the other noises that graced the leaves of the many trees within the reserve. Venuch's skin, however, began to crawl as the noises suddenly dropped off and the woods silenced itself once more. He swallowed any of the nerves that threatened to make themselves known as he headed further into the woods.

This was stupid. Why did he agree to this?

The snap of a twig nearby made him jump, his heart seemingly deciding to vacation in his throat—the hair on his arms rose sharply as he wet his lips. Every muscle in his body wound itself tightly the longer the stillness continued on in the dark. "Azzozas?" He called out to unwavering silence. "If that was you, that was by no mean funny!"

Nothing.

There was swift movement to his left, and in seconds he's stumbling through the underbrush and took hold of the nearest tree as if it would ground him. Whatever had made the noise was no doubt a hulking creature if he had to go off the sound of its steps. His breathing was uneven, and he recognized the shaking in his own limbs; and he felt like the world had shrunk beyond recognition as his eyes darted around the darkness—

Venuch chokes on his air, his breathing stopping.

Three pairs of eyes, blinding white and lacking the human qualities of pupils and irises, burn into his body. Then they rose.

His throat clenched painfully, a strangled noise leaving him as it stepped forward.

The being had pale, white glow that clung to slumped shoulders, filthy white curls cascaded down them. Its face—or lack thereof—lay hidden behind its hair, its pupiless eyes regarded him in silence.

Venuch whispered, voice quaking, "…Azzozas?"

Whatever he was staring at made a low noise, one he couldn't decipher. It was inhuman and beyond his comprehension as a demon. Then it made growled something—something he couldn't quite understand.

"I don't know what you're saying, I don't speak the tongue of the angels," Venuch said slowly, uncomfortably aware of power imbalance that had risen in this very moment. "But whatever this is needs to stop. Danka asked me nicely to locate you…so I'm going to let him know where you are."

It stared at him. Then its demeanor changed entirely. Its eyes narrowed and its hackles raised, and it shrieked as swung a clawed hand at him. The strength behind the hand sent shoved him into the tree harshly. It continued wailing at him in some foreign language. The pitch of the noise tore into his eardrums. Venuch slapped his hands on his ears and collapsed to his knees with a scream of pain, the irony smell of his own blood forcing its way into his nose.

The being bolted into the woods, the sound of breaking wood following it well into the night.

Venuch panted heavily, clawing at the dirt as he struggled to get back to his feet. He silently cured Danka to hell and back for putting him through this.

Danka looked up when Venuch limped into the office. The stack of papers that were once beside his desk were long gone and now he had a table lamp pointed toward what appeared to be an embroidery project. The colors were a beautiful assortment of blues, reds, and purples.

"He attacked you didn't he," Danka said, readjusting his glasses upon his nose. "I advised you not to get too close and, yet, here you are, sporting a claw shaped gash on your arm no less."

Venuch's nose flared as he gave the snarky man a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Szalay. I found him in the Busse Woods, but he disappeared before I could do much."

The man said nothing for a solid five minutes, simply embroidering away to his heart's content. Venuch contemplated sighing as loud and obnoxiously as possible just to spite the other man. Finally, Danka set his embroidery to the side and set his needles atop the hoop. "I forgot to mention this earlier, but you are to keep a close eye over Busse Woods for the next thirteen days," Danka explained, "I would ask someone, but you know…everyone who knows this man is terrified of him."

"It's like you're trying to get me disemboweled," Venuch muttered bitterly. "Regardless, whatever th-that thing was—it wasn't entirely Azzozas."

"I see…so it's that bad this time," The silver haired man muttered, placing his embroidery carefully within his suitcase. He stood up and paused for a moment, face softly illuminated by the light of his lamp. He beckoned Venuch to follow him. The room was bathed in darkness save for the light of the moon after Danka clicked the lamp off. "Let's take care of that wound on your arm and evidently the bruising on your back as well." Venuch (not questioning how the doctor knew about the injury on his back) followed him into a door that was nestled behind his desk between two bookshelves. He wouldn't have even noticed it if it had not been for Danka leading him into it. The silence was heavy between them. It filled the area like another person walking along them.

Venuch, honestly, hadn't even expected Azzozas to harm him, or look like that. He supposed adrenaline was like a true savior in that moment because had it been any other time, he'd be complaining like no other. He pulled his torn coat sleeve, pulling the strings out of the gash, grimacing at the stinging pain that followed afterward. The edges of his skin were turning a sickening black color and then he began to wonder if that had something do with why he hadn't originally felt any pain form the gash. Danka opened another door, ushering the injured man in and closing it behind him.

The lights flickered on.

How many hidden areas did this building have to offer? Venuch began to wonder.

The room was twice the size of Danka's office with walls painted the color of a freshly bloomed Petunia. A large ovular table with multiple chairs surrounding it was situated in the middle of the room, shelves upon shelves of books were fitted snugly into the save for the one with the door and the one to Venuch's left, and on the wall to the left was what appeared to be medical supplies.

"I graduated from the University of Chicago as well as the University of the Circle of Wrath with MD-PhDs so I'm more than qualified to take care of your injury," Danka said, gesturing toward the medical examination table. "Sit. I need to fix it before it gets worse."

"What do you mean by worse—and should I call you Dr. Szalay?" Venuch questioned, though he sat down regardless and pulled off his overcoat.

Danka shed the heavy, winter coat he'd been wearing and rolled up the sleeves of his button up, washing his hands in the nearby sink and pulling on some blue, latex gloves. "I'd prefer if you simply called me Szalay or Danka. The gang calls me Lion's Mane. That aside, I'm sure you've noticed the skin on the edges of your wound has blackened, yes? You have eyes."

"Of course, I have, but why is it so urgent?"

The man sighed deeply as if Venuch's very presence was testing his patience. "Because you were attacked by Azzozas while he was in Incomplete Angelic Form. His angelic blood is most potent when he's extremely stressed and, as you know, we, as non-angelic demons, are weak to many of the abilities Angels wield. So, unless you want to lose an arm, let me see it."

Venuch laid down on the examination table, mocking Danka under his breath.

"I can hear you, Venuch, my senses are just as heightened as yours are and put that stethoscope down, what would you even use that for?"

He set the stethoscope back on the tray it had been sitting on. The doctor came back with a bottle of what appeared to be local anesthetic, sticking a needle in it, and pulling some from the bottle. Venuch eyed the man, shrinking away from rather big needle. "What's that for?"

"To numb the area so you don't feel the stitches, of course, "Danka said simply. "What else would I be doing? Sticking it in your butt?"

Venuch grimaced. "Do you have to do that?"

Danka stared at him.

"Oh right, I'd lose my arm otherwise…anywhere but my ass."

The doctor gave him a weird look. "It's…a local anesthetic for a reason. It would not work if I put it anywhere but where your injury is."

Venuch said no more after that, preferring to not embarrass himself any further than he already had. The two of them settled into silence as Danka took the needle and carefully stuck it into Venuch's shoulder after practically having to force the blond to take his shirt off so he could avoid having to cut it. "It should take around thirty minutes for the anesthesia to take full effect," Danka explained, setting the needle and bottle to the side. "If you want something to snack on, I do keep food in the refrigerator here."

Confused by why all of this was here, Venuch finally asked, "What is this room used for?"

"It's the gang meeting room. Did Azzozas neglect to tell you you'd be joining a gang?" Inquired Danka, pulling out a random assortment of snacks.

"A gang?" Venuch echoed.

Danka pulled off his gloves, opening a honey bun and eating it. "Yes. A gang. Organized crime, killing people, stealing, the works."

"A gang?" Venuch said once again.

Danka eyed him. "I see he did not mention that to you. That boneheaded man…"

What if he just crawled under this examination table and died. That being said, what else could Azzozas have meant when he said Venuch was going to work under him? "This much stress is not good for an eight-hundred-year-old," he sighed wearily.

"I thought you were Azzozas's age," Danka said, cleaning up his mess of honey bun wrappers—how did he eat that five that fast? "You seem young to me at least."

Just how old was Danka to think Venuch was young. Even his own coworkers who were unaware of his true age called him the "Old Man" of the office building. He supposed he deserved to be called old, but at least he wasn't graying like the humans who were barely a day over forty-five. He'd be blond until he died, so he hoped. "How old are you?" Venuch asked, noting his shoulder was going numb.

"I turned nine hundred fifty-five this year."

"Damn."

Danka stared at him.

"I'm sorry."

The silver haired man gave him a flat look. "No, you're not, but I'll let this go."

"I also have a somewhat important question to ask," Venuch said before Danka could resume tending to his injury. "Why do you need me to watch Azzozas so bad? Why does it matter if he disappears?"

Danka threw away his trash. "What a stupid question, "he said bluntly. "You know full well why. Azzozas is one of the most powerful demons in this gang. He has promised many of us protection and has done well to prove he is capable of providing it. Though all of us need him, many of them are too afraid to approach him and risk dying while he's in his current state. You, for some strange reason, don't seem particularly afraid of dying. Ergo, you're perfect for this."

Venuch said, clearly bemused, "Of course I'm afraid of dying by him. I'm just clearly better at avoiding doing so, apparently."

Danka's eyebrows rose slightly. "Well, you certainly are better at getting into situations that could've been easily avoided."

"Mellow out — there's no need to be so snooty with me," Venuch retorted.

The other man rolled his eyes. "Let's get started on your arm before it gets worse."