“Marcel?”
Skot looks over to see that security guard who had been earlier speaking with the janitor has come over, concern laced on his features.
“Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah, Billy. Thanks.” Marcel puts on a weak smile for the other, who is not too many years his senior.
Billy peers, narrowing his eyes as though he does not buy this at all. He looks ready to walk closer, but to Skot’s relief, Marcel goes to him.
“I just thought I ..,” he begins, then looks back, obviously unsure of himself.
“You what?” Billy pushes, though he bears more an aspect of friendly helpfulness than any stern pressure.
“I don’t know. I thought I saw something.”
“Where?”
Just then, the other two creatures turn, seeing their dead fellow, and they go into an aspect of alarm, scuffling over, leaning in close, opening their own versions of sensory organs to try to discern what has happened.
“There.” Marcel points where the demons have just left, and Billy peers, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He meanders over.
“Looks like a book fell is all,” the security guard says, bending down to pick up the one that had been sent to the ground by Skot’s magicks.
“Yeah.” Marcel huffs out a short, embarrassed chuckle, also drawing near. “I guess I’ll take that.”
Billy offers a smile, handing the book over, and Marcel proceeds to reshelf it.
“Skot?”
He moves his head, having been watching with rapt focus as the two demons inspect their fellow’s corpse, snorting and sniffling about, knowing they will eventually take notice of Marcel and Billy. He sees something he had hoped for and something else quite entirely unexpected, adding to the mysterious nature of the evening.
“Lilja!” he all but cries out, recognizing her even with the mask, and he goes to her, giving a quick hug.
She returns it as best she is able, what with all her gear and the current situation.
“You killed one?”
He looks at Anika, then back. “You’re alright?” he asks, and Lilja nods. His eyes go to the Malkuth, his aspect changing, “I’ll need to know why you are here.”
Anika smirks, not giving a centimeter under the scrutiny of the Head of the Felcraft Family.
“But first, we have a situation.”
“You don’t s-,” Anika begins, voice coated in sarcasm, but she is cut off.
“If you are here to help, good, but if not, then leave now,” Skot commands.
She offers no further words, showing her response in how she holds the pistol, looking around to assess the situation, then giving a perk of eyebrows and indication of her head toward the two demons. Lilja notices Marcel and Billy, and she feels the sharp sense of concern rising to a greater peak. She doesn’t want anything bad to happen to these people. She quietly draws her katana.
“I can take out those two,” she whispers.
“There are more.”
She glances at the woman, then to Skot, and he nods.
“She’s right. These are just a vanguard. The fog is thickening. More are here, more are coming.”
“They’re after the Book.”
He nods to Lilja, noting the increased etching of concern on her features.
“I’ve checked,” he informs, “They have not gotten down there yet. Our measures ought to force them through this way.” He indicates the entrance.
“Ought to?” Anika pitches, but it seems they are not inclined to pay much attention to the jab.
Lilja nods to Skot, once, resolute, then she moves.
He and Anika observe as the masked redhead goes to the other two creatures. They fidget, about to make a move of their own, but Lilja acts first.
She swings with a vicious arc, rising up from the shadows, and one of the beasts recoils, a strange-looking spray of its vitae spews out as it is deeply rent, collapsing. The other screeches in its otherworldly voice, and Skot barely hears it. Its mouth gapes nearly as wide as its neckless bulb of a head, teeth crowding around the edges, looking to angle outward with the force of the yell. It goes to attack, but another swipe, as strong and efficient as the first, results in a diagonal cut across its shape, and it falls to the thickening, odiferous pile.
“She is quite good,” Anika admits, the volume of her voice low.
“You knew that already.”
“She’s also the infamous vigilante,” Anika presses, toying, “I suppose that adds to her resume.”
Skot just gives her a look, his eyes slit, then he glances back over. Lilja has left the area, but her strikes resulted in a glint of light and movement, some even showing the hint of that amber sheen, and the two men have walked over. They investigate, though they cannot quite make out what is going on, but the dark energies are mounting. They scratch and annoy at the awareness, coiling in deep, causing potential fractures like vines growing through concrete.
“What’s going on?”
Billy looks up at Marcel on the tail end of those whispered words. He sees confusion and fright there, and he feels some of his own.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to check the entrance. Stay here.”
Skot looks over, and indeed the front of the library has become like a billows, steadily pumping in its effluvia as if a throbbing, pulsating vein were coming straight from the heart of the Infernal. He spies more creatures clamoring forth, some like the thick, low-set beings already slain, others smaller, skittering about like large, grotesque insects, none quite fit for this world, still mostly insubstantial, but they are merely more of the advance. If that wave takes hold, it will allow more of them and more expression of power in this plane.
Anika makes to move that way, but she is halted by a hand on her arm. She gives that touch a pointed look then slips her eyes to Skot.
“Do not harm the innocents,” he iterates.
She fights to not roll her eyes and scoff. Though they are both invested in the protection of the Book, this is officially Felcraft ground, and they are in charge, especially with their Head here. If it were just she and Lilja, which she had hoped on the way over, she’d be able to abuse more leeway. Of course, the man himself is not an ‘innocent’. Mayhap something unfortunate would happen to him during such a concentrated and potentially chaotic attack as this.
She gives him a single nod, her aspect not at all betraying her quick thoughts, and she creeps toward the entryway.
Skot melts back further into the shadows, keeping up the obfuscating magick. He has eyes on Marcel, the young man waiting there near the rapidly disintegrating yet still quite fetid pile of demon corpses. He again wishes the assistant would move, for that very spot reeks with negativity. Once this is done, the library will need to be cleansed. He has already given some thought as to how the Infernal learned of this in the first place, having sent their precious half-breed to his death. They knew such an attack was imminent. Still, such analysis and resultant actions will have to wait.
“Everything looks in order,” Billy comments, having gained the main doors, finding them secured, but his voice trails off at the end.
He feels something, though he is not sure what it is, his forehead wrinkling. He gets closer to the transparent double doors, peering out, expecting to see something. He wonders if perhaps some students are out there, trying to play a prank. He turns around, moving back in.
“Maybe I should go out and see if-,” he begins, but he pauses, blinking, for he has felt something.
Skot sees it, wishing that the security guard would just get out of here. He sees the shape of a demon as it stands right beside Billy, baring its hideous teeth, moving its fingers like the tendrils of an anemone. It is trying to influence the man, trying to generate feelings of unease, negative emotions. He can all but see as the shape takes more form, as though it were an empty vessel filling with substance from the roiling fog. He spies Anika somewhat nearby as she watches. He can tell she wishes to attack the beast, but she is holding bac
k due to his command. Her eyes find his, widening as she pushes her face forward, insistently, though quietly, asking for permission to engage.
Skot exhales through clenched teeth, shaking his head at Anika as the other security guard comes over to check on his colleague.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I … thought I heard something.”
Skot knows the man has amended his words, having rather felt the presence, but he understands why the untried guard would explain it as such. The demons likely are happy to see these mundanes here, hoping to devour them as some sort of snack as they go to acquire their real prize.
“And I thought I saw something.”
Both officers look over to the approach of the assistant, Marcel. Lilja wonders why he is here, but just as with Skot’s analysis of the situation, such concerns will be postponed. She is not as attuned to the hidden world, but she knows enough. She has kept to the shadows, acting very much as she might in her capacity as the vigilante, and though she has not yet seen more of the beastly intruders, she knows they are out there. She has heard the sounds of the cleaning staff, but they are thankfully occupied on a higher floor, the noises of their work travelling down the open stairwell as she moves nearby.
“What did you see?” the other guard asks of Marcel.
“I’m not sure. I actually heard something first,” he elaborates, and this gets a look from the officer to his coworker, “Some books fell off the shelf.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Well, yes,” Marcel admits, “It’s never happened before that I’m aware of. It’s not like they’re loosely or poorly stacked or left near the edge of the shelves.”
The man looks at him, quite interested in the tale despite its potential. Marcel has some trouble reading him, feeling a touch silly all of a sudden, unsure, thinking he is now making a big deal of nothing.
“And then, when … Billy and I were over there. I thought I saw something else.”
“Something else?” the man asks. He again glances to his colleague who is looking around, anxiously. “What was it?”
“I’m not sure, like some motion in the shadows, some weird flashes of light.”
“It sounds like some kids could be playing pranks,” the guard admits, moving his eyes again to his partner, “Hey, Billy, what’s got you spooked?”
“Huh?” Billy snaps out of his scanning. “Nothing,” he says, somewhat defiantly, getting a little grin from his buddy.
“The kids that go to this school are smart, some of them are too smart for their own good, and we’ve had trouble before. Maybe we ought to check-,” he begins to suggest, then he blinks, looking in a slightly different direction, “What the hell?”
“What?” Billy and Marcel ask in unison.
“Now I see something … I think,” he amends, eyes narrowing, face moving forward, then he shakes his head. “Okay, something’s up. Billy, let’s look around, inside and out,” the more experienced guard decides, “Would you check the cleaning crew?”
“Yeah, sure,” Marcel agrees, seeming to be suddenly deputized.
The demonic forces have continued to coalesce throughout, seeping in and gathering strength. The three men are indeed being watched, and not just by those unearthly creatures, but also by the three Hunters. Those eyes see as the monsters linger about the men, already trying to further influence them in their as yet less tangible ways.
“What are we going to do?”
Skot looks over at Anika who has made a quiet return to his position, but he doesn’t say anything.
“You said to not harm the innocents, but if we sit here doing nothing, they are going to be harmed.”
He still does not answer, glancing down at her pistol.
“It’s Lilja’s,” she whispers, noting his gaze.
“She gave you her sidearm?”
“I’m afraid it’s loaded with conventional ammunition, though,” she adds, then lets her eyes travel to his holstered weapon. “I don’t suppose you’d let me borrow-.”
He shakes his head slowly, giving a clear, resolute answer. Anika shrugs, looking back over at the mounting scene. Marcel has left to check upstairs on the janitorial staff, and Billy heads over to unlock the front doors in order to investigate outside. Skot stares, trying to will the security guard in leaving. He’d prefer they all exit, but at least getting some of them out of this vicinity would be a great improvement.
But it doesn’t happen.
Billy pauses, doors unlocked, one of them partially opened, his eyes wide, frozen in place by whatever it is he sees. Skot notices this, but he doesn’t have the proper angle to tell what suddenly has the security guard’s attention. He creeps forward, and just then, he feels it. Where the arrival of the Infernal vanguard is like a subtly seeping fog, this is a storm.
Billy also sees it, like an approaching current, but the confusion it brings is evident. He also thinks he sees something there, something dark and low to the ground, moving fast. He blinks, shaking his head as though unwilling to accept the reports of his eyes.
“Ow!”
He looks back inside the library to see his colleague standing there, holding his right arm.
“What happened?” Billy rushes over, though he spares a quick glance back to the open door.
“I must have ran into something,” the other security guard says, moving his hand away to reveal a rather nasty cut on his forearm, the sleeve of his uniform torn, blood seeping from the fresh wound.
“Shit. That doesn’t look good. What’d you run into?”
He looks down, searching for the corner or piece of metal or whatever it may have been. “I … don’t know.”
The Hunters know, and the demon that has managed to infiltrate the corporeal world enough to have caused this wound is now veritably tittering and slavering, wanting more. Skot rises up from his crouched position.
“What are you doing to do?” Anika bids, her voice sounding more laden with challenge than curiosity or concern.
“Protect them,” he says to her, making ready to approach.
“Alright,” Billy continues, unaware of the others, “Let’s just get you back to the station and get this cleaned up.” He pauses, looking up, noticing the fixed stare of his partner. “What?”
“Someone … someone’s there.”
Billy looks over, and he also notes the outline of a human shape in the shadows, but before he may say anything, the double doors of the library crash fully open.
A flood of powerful wind gushes forth and into the foyer, barely preceded by the shapes of the loping beasts, three large wolves rushing in, claws clicking noisily on the floor. They seem to almost be riding the storm. The security guards blanch, gripped by sudden fright. They both fumble for their deterrents, mace and stunners being pulled and readied.
Anika has moved further back, fully aware of what is now happening and wanting to not be in the middle of it. Lilja’s position still holds unknown to the others, but Skot approaches the fray as the lupine animals move with a sure agility, growling, biting, bodies shifting with the close of the hunt. To the eyes of the untrained, they appear to carry on a ferocious battle with empty air.
“Stop!” calls out a commanding voice, and the two guards look over. “They are not here to harm you.”
Neither recognize the man, and both feel ready questions on their lips. But the feeling of danger is great. Skot steps closer, hands held out, palms displayed within splayed fingers, trying to show that he is no threat even as he attempts to ease the feeling of such from the animals.
The wolves continue to growl and gyrate, moving in their predatory purpose of attacking the demons. They are able to see the beasts, and their actions bring results, the insubstantial creatures now going on the defensive as some are caught and ripped asunder.
These animals are specially bred and trained, the main pack living on the grounds of Felcraft manor, though these had been brought here temporarily once certain activities on the
part of the Infernal had been discerned. To those with some sight, a luminescence may be seen along their healthy coats, gleaming in their eyes and flashing from their fangs. They exist simultaneously on both planes, drawing from a similar ability possessed by cats and other animals, though these benefit from their breeding, training, and the presence of their nearby master.
The winds howl in, coiling about and becoming like a funnel within the library. Most of that magick is also unseen by the guards, but the fierce currents cause upset in the physical world. The main brunt of the force crushes many of the monsters, corralling them within, keeping them from fleeing even as the barrage begins to rip the odious flesh from their unnatural bones.
Billy fires his conducted electrical weapon, striking one of the wolves in its hindquarters. The animal unleashes a sharp yelp, trying to flee the hit. Its prey takes the moment to scamper free.
“No!” Skot calls out.
“Don’t come any closer!” the other guard demands, now angling his spray.
Skot pauses, hands still held out. “They are not here to harm you!” he tries again, the noise of the forces rising up, now even affecting the ears of all those present.
“He’s armed,” the one says, finally spying the holstered weapon.
“Drop your weapon!” Billy commands, turning, having dispelled the cartridge from his first shot, readying the CEW for another fire as he steadies his aim.
The winds seem to crack the barrier of worlds, but in truth, they are revealing what is hidden, and larger, more grotesque and dangerous looking demons peel forth, as though having always been there, lurking invisibly. They yet remain unseen by the guards, but the wolves go to quick work, though their task is much more difficult with these. More yowling and cries rise forth.
“Wh-what,” Billy says, eyes darting about, “What’s going on!”
“Back away from the area,” Skot says, trying to maintain some control, “Just calm down.”
Billy realizes he has just heard something that he is supposed to say, and he steels himself, even as he hears those horripilating sounds, feels the rising pressure of that outré wind. None of this should be happening, but he at least has training in how to deal with threats. He holds steady, his finger readying to pull the trigger.
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