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chews-erotically · 4 years

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Waxing Gibbous

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Angst/violence/gore/blood/mentions of prostitution/SMUT(eventual)/veryinaccuratesurgicalprocedure

Honestly words have been fermenting in my brain for many moons. I am new to this, so please be gentle. I have written before, however never for a fandom. Special thank you to @yespolkadotkitty and @rzrcst for their support and encouragement, it truly means the world to me.

Summary: You are a nurse on the Green moon contracted to care for a group of prospectors. An act of violence forces you to flee your camp. Ezra finds you.

Words: 2376

PART ONE

The first time Ezra fell, it was with the Saters. You’d been hunched in a cordoned-off section of tent, dust motes waxing and waning against the haze of thick, dank air. At least you could breathe, a small mercy it was to remove your helmets and sit unfettered in the musty inner folds of the makeshift barracks.

The Sater stank. When he sneered at you, his grey lips parted to reveal the jagged tombstones of his teeth. When you had first sat down and dispelled with the perfunctory greetings, choking down the offering of what always reminded you of unsweetened Turkish coffee mixed with engine oil, his eyes made no attempt to hide the way they had raked over you as if you were some shiny toy. Or a bag of meat. You were under no delusions when it came to the fact that you, by nature of being female, were going to be ogled. Still, it left you no less disgusted as you fought to keep your face impassive while his eyes honed in on your chest.

Ezra sat beside you on the narrow bench, hunched forward with forearms balanced on knees that were spread to allow for his head to clear the sunken canvas ceiling. His expression was equally neutral, the only hint of tension showing in the tight bunch of muscle at his jaw. He knew as well as you that if the sater did not accept the barter, things would turn dark.

Ezra had been here longer than you. Stranded with no transport after the crew he’d arrived with turned on each other over dig locations and payload disbursement. The pod they’d arrived in had been burned, irreparably damaged and left no more than a husk in the Green due to the short-sighted fury and bullheaded ire of his hired compatriots. In the fracas, he’d sustained an injury to his right arm from a rogue thrower shot. In retrospect it could have been much worse, but the spores of mold that made the air so toxic had worked its way into his flesh the same way selfishness and suspicion had seeded the demise of his partners.

You were hired as a nurse to tend to your own hired prospecting crew, lured in with promises of adventure and treasures beyond your wildest dreams. You had known there had to be a catch, you were not so naive to believe that consequence could elude you, but you had signed the contract anyway hoping for more than the dreary clinic you’d worked in for the past five years. You were alone, you were lonely, you had no family. Your few friends had steadily drifted away from you as they met their own partners, started their own families. You were left to the ether. So you signed almost without thought when the recruiter came, signed before you had time to think it through, because you were aware that if you thought too much you’d talk yourself out of it. You knew all too well how adept you were at talking yourself out of things.

So, you’d arrived on the Green and things had proceeded as planned, uneventful for the most part. The others on the crew were respectful, if a bit distant. Nothing untoward had happened until a contractor by the name of Jorin began to take a particular interest in you. At first you’d been able to politely deflect his advances. Showing up in your tent unannounced, he feigned all manner of illness and injury to get your attention. Over time he became more aggressive, invading your space until you had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not welcome. It was not until he’d followed you back to your cot and tried to push you down that you’d snapped. You hadn’t meant to kill him, but the scalpel you had hidden in your fist had found its way to his carotid artery nonetheless. So you left, and you were blank and in shock and covered in someone else’s blood when Ezra found you.

He’d stood, imposing and straight-backed, hand on hip while his head followed your shambling approach. Your adrenaline was waning, and you shuffled forth on trembling legs, hands held aloft in supplication. When you reached his clearing in the midst of dense vegetation you noted his mouth moving at light-speed, the hand on his hip twitching toward the thrower he had slung across his back. As you got even closer you noticed his eyes were wide. You were not on the same transmission channel so you could not hear him. Your hands gestured as if underwater, left hand tapping your transceiver while your right held up three trembling fingers. When Ezra understood he switched the channel and immediately his animated drawl was filling your helmet.

“.....cannot fathom how you are standing in my sights looking like you’ve been baptised by Lady Bathory herself, alone? Please do tell this lonely old prospector how in Kevva’s name above you’ve found yourself in such a state of affairs?”

You noticed immediately that he did not seem at all frightened or wary of your appearance, just confused, and….excited? You gazed up into the visor through a constellation of blood spatter and freed your tongue from its bone-dry cavern, swallowing thickly.

“I didn’t mean to kill him. He tried to, to…..he came after me.”

Ezra stepped forward in what seemed a conspiratory move. You froze. Taking note, he’d immediately stepped back, but his dark eyes fastened to yours with an intensity that made you feel as though he could see through you into your very essence, every shameful childhood memory, every flaw and triumph as readable as prose on paper.

“Intention rarely informs the realities of snuffing out the flame of mortality. Between intention and action there lay an endless array of variables, something I know as well as my own name. In all my time on the Green the one thing that continues to ring true is that people here take. If you have nothing to offer, they will find something to take.”

He straightened before continuing, “Given that you are appreciably female I can imagine what it is he believed himself entitled to. You have none of that to fear from me, little stranger. I am but one lost soul amongst this verdant hellscape.”

You were still processing the events of the past several hours, and it took you some time to accustom your ears to the man’s mellifluous cadence. The people in your previous company had been stilted, blunt, mostly monosyllabic. This man before you spoke as if convinced his words would alight and manifest whatever sacred force or unimagined color the universe deemed fit to spew forth. It was incongruous. You considered your next words carefully before you spoke.

“Do you have a dwelling? A tent? I hate to impose, but this is my only suit and I’d like to get as much blood out of it as I can.”

That was how you’d become acquainted with Ezra. You’d exchanged names as you walked to his tent, and all the while Ezra pontificated. The tent was modest, two cots arranged across from one another. Equipment stacked along one canvas wall, while texts and notebooks spread across a folding table toward the front entrance. Ezra explained where the water source was located as you both disconnected your helmets and stripped your suits. The blood splashed across yours had dried to a dull rust. Almost as if it could be something other than blood. Almost.

You’d set the suit to soak in cold water and truly noticed the man in front of you for the first time. He was tall and broad-shouldered, thick locks jutting chaotically from the dome of his head and curling around the lobes of his ears. A shock of blond colored the seam of his hairline. His brow was lined with years of tension and unrest. Wide, dark eyes below pronounced brows. A prominent aquiline nose. His mouth, still moving. Always moving, as if he were trying to get every thought he had out of his head before the hourglass ran out on him.

Your eyes were next drawn to a dirty bandage circling his arm. You’d been so lost in your head over the strange turn of events that you did not notice the barely perceptible wince as he inventoried what appeared to be dried ration packets.

“What happened? To your arm, I mean?”

Ezra sighed deeply before answering. “Merely a flesh wound from an errant thrower blast while my crew and I were in the midst of parting ways. It was a most unsavory affair, I’m afraid. I don’t believe the weasel wielding the staff even meant to shoot me.”

You stepped closer, eyeing the torn, worried cloth. “You have to be careful. The spores in the air will seep into everything, especially an open wound. Your bandage is filthy. Do you mind if I take a look?”

“You have experience with dressing wounds?”

“I’m a nurse.”

You were wholly unprepared for the brilliant smile that split his face. Suddenly you could see the younger, roguish man that he had undoubtedly once been. You were suddenly overwhelmed, you could not understand how the heart in your chest fluttered as desperately as a bird beating its wings against the cage of your ribs. You felt close to panic as you realized that you were reacting this way to a man you did not know.

Careful.

“Kevva above, I must have done something right in a past life as I’ve done nothing in this one to deserve such a fortuitous gift! A nurse! An angel of mercy, a dove of benevolence!”

You felt heat rush to your face, and you cursed your feeble emotions as you turned quickly away from him. Please, ignore my abject idiocy.

“Med kit?”

“Ah, of course. My apologies, Dove, I forget myself.”

You pointedly ignored the unprompted endearment as any further contemplation on this new development would lead to literal hysteria. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Ezra sat at the table near the entrance, sweeping the array of notebooks and papers to the side. You pulled up a crate once taking the med kit and unwrapped the soiled bandaging. You understood how awkward it had to be to dress a wound with one hand, and so you were able to forgive the haphazard application. He hissed and winced again as you revealed a very red, open and angry wound bed assaulting the meat of his right bicep. Black had begun to settle in around the ragged edges. It did not look good. Your gut sank as you noticed the purplish pucker of skin surrounding a crater that oozed and tunneled, purulent drainage saturating the underlying gauze.

The mold had done a spectacular job of decaying what would have normally been a straight forward traumatic thrower wound. You were shocked that Ezra was not screaming in pain.

You kept your face studiously blank as you set out supplies: a vial of Ancef, sterile saline, bandaging, gauze, antimicrobial foam, hydrogen peroxide, a basin, and the scalpel you’d kept clutched in your fist as you’d fled. There was an injectable narcotic preloaded, you offered this to Ezra and he shook his head, his eyes still and worried. He knew it was bad, and he was scared. A wave of melancholy slammed into you and without thinking, you reached out and laid your fingers gently on his wrist.

“Hey.” He met your eyes, and they were old. Ancient, and filled with what was akin to an existential weariness. You had to dig the toe of your boot into your calf to keep your eyes from filling with tears. You cleared your throat. It did not sound like a noise you’d make. You wondered who you were, really, before speaking.

“I’m going to do the best that I can. It won’t be pretty. Your wound is badly infected. The black bits are necrotic, and if I don’t debride your wound it will spread. I’m going to try my hardest to save your arm. This is going to hurt, so I really think you should take the injection.”

Ezra’s solemn gaze swung to fasten on yours. After a pause of internal debate, he simply nodded. You filled the basin with hydrogen peroxide and placed the scalpel in. You picked up the preloaded syringe and sterile gauze and quickly discharged the narcotic serum into Ezra’s left deltoid. His eyes soon took on a haze of detachment, pupils constricting to pinpoints.

You picked up the scalpel and got to work, and Ezra finally screamed.

He kept his arm impressively still while sweat cut rivulets down the planes of his face. His jaw clenched so tightly you feared his teeth would crack and splinter- you’d finally and wordlessly paused your work to place a length of spare leather strapping between his teeth, which he clamped onto like a feral dog.

You worked quickly and wordlessly, cutting ribbons of spoiled flesh from the blessedly granulating bed of tissue and muscle beneath. Your mind worked in circular prayer, asking forgiveness from the universe for killing, for hurting. Ezra’s flesh was a sacred scroll and you were inscribing your texts upon it, begging for deliverance. It was not lost on you that the same scalpel you’d used to snuff one life was carving death out of another.

When the deed was done, you reconstituted the Ancef and injected it into the meat of his buttock. You did it quickly, too wrung out and disturbed to feel impure. There was nothing prurient about what had just happened, nothing sexy in his agony. For all of its intimacy it was brutal and ugly and traumatic. At that moment you were inextricably bound to one another.

#Ezra Ezra Prospect

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downtowns-universe · 7 years

Text

The Job

Part 3

Characters: Chris, Dai

Words: 5791

Chris took a last glance at the piece of paper. This had got to be it. Here’s where he’d have the biggest chance of spotting a fairy. He knew that they were very hard to find in the forest, which was their home, and therefore well-protected. But in the city their presence was a lot easier to track down. He’d only have to wait outside one of their usual meeting spots until one of them would venture out. Maybe he’d even be lucky, and it’d be his target showing up. In that case he wouldn’t even have to enter the forest at all, and avoid the traps and other magical dangers hidden there. His instruction file briefly mentioned how to enter a Fae portal, but not how to get to one, or what he’d find on the other side. So his only option was to wait out here for someone to show themselves.

It had taken him a while to be able to read what exactly was in the file. When he and Jack had taken their first look at it, it’d been but an empty sheet of paper. He’d taken it home and stared at it while anxiously pacing around the house. Eventually he’d gone to bed, leaving the file out on the table, his bag on the floor where he’d dropped it. Normally he’d clean and put away all of his weapons, but he hadn’t even used any of them yet. Jack had been right after all about not needing them.

The next morning he’d walked in with the intention to put them away, still half asleep, when he noticed the page had words on it now. They seemed to have appeared overnight, perhaps as some kind of safety measure against prying eyes. Dai did say not to show it to anyone.

The file told him some details on who he had to take out, picture included, and where most likely to find them. It said a Fae item was needed to successfully enter a portal, and more importantly, to leave again after. Then it went on about protocol and how to report a successful mission, which took up more than half of the actual document. He had to admit, he was used to receiving longer files, even on way less important jobs than this one. It might be part of the test, it might also just be the way things were done Downtown. Either way, it’d have to do.

So now he was waiting outside, across the street from an old warehouse, hiding behind a truck parked there for the night. There must be a group of fairies inside, since he could see dim light shining through the windows, and silhouettes moving behind the curtains. He wasn’t sure how many, or when they’d come out, but he needed to be ready when they did. Luckily it was a full moon, so there’d be light wherever he’d have to follow them. He knew a fairy would have the advantage in the dark, for they could detect the energy of lifeforms around them, so they’d see him even if he couldn’t see them. He sure hoped they wouldn’t discover him in his hiding place before he could even make a move.

He checked his phone to see if Jack had responded yet, but there were no new messages. He’d texted him earlier that night to ask whether the full moon would have an effect on Fae magic, but it seemed like he’d just have to learn from experience. He sure hoped they wouldn’t be at their strongest right now, but with the luck he’d had lately they probably were. Not to mention all of the other creatures he could run into tonight, like werewolves. Did they really have to meet at a full moon?

Chris impatiently shifted from one leg to the other. What if they’d be in there all night? He had no idea how long the meeting would take, or what they were even doing in there. He wasn’t planning on freezing out here all night. Not that he had any other option. Missing this chance would mean he’d either have to wait until the next meeting or attempt to find other Fae hideouts all by himself. Both options would slow him down, and he wasn’t sure what the timeframe for this mission was, anyway.

After what felt like an hour, he heard the sound of footsteps and voices coming from across the street. He jumped up, stretching his legs after sitting on the cold concrete for so long. Carefully glancing around his hiding place, he saw a group of seemingly normal people leave the building, heading in different directions. He quickly tried to scan the crowd for a familiar face, but those walking away didn’t match the photo in his file. Too bad, this would’ve made things easier. Now he’d have to follow one of them to a Fae portal and hope to find his target there. He had no clue how to go about this, but he’d just have to improvise.

Just when the people had moved away far enough and he was about to come out and follow, the door opened again. Chris quickly dove behind the truck again to avoid being spotted. A tall, dark-haired person stepped out and locked the door behind them. They must have been closing up after the others had left. They looked an awful lot like his photo, and when they turned around to leave Chris was sure of it: this was his target. It seemed like he’d gotten a bit of luck after all.

He followed the fairy down a couple of blocks. They’d moved out of the industrial area and into a residential one. He wondered if his target would live here; he thought fairies mostly lived in the forest, or at least close to one. The city didn’t seem like a pleasant environment for a creature so connected to nature. Not that he really cared about the fairies’ happiness. He was about to kill one, after all. If that had to take place in the city, perhaps he’d have the advantage.

The moon appeared from behind a cloud and bathed the street in her eerie light. Chris waited a little longer at the corner before moving in, as there weren’t many hiding places ahead. He used this extra time to grab a gun out of his backpack. When he peered around the corner, the fairy was nowhere to be seen. He stepped out. This wasn’t possible: they couldn’t have left the street already, it was way too long for that. Perhaps they’d entered a house, or were hidden, knowing they were being followed.

Chris slowly started walking the street, alert for any kind of movement. Most of the houses had dark windows, their inhabitants having long gone to bed. The only sound he could hear was the rustling of leaves in the wind and the bark of a dog a few blocks away. A light above a garage door surprised him when he got detected by its motion sensor. It hadn’t been on before, so Chris figured either the fairy hadn’t gone down the street this far, or they’d been on the other side of the road. He decided to go with the latter, as he’d found no trace of them yet.

Having crossed the road and passed a couple of houses, Chris felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He glanced at it, checking whether Jack had responded. It turned out to be his scanner: there was something nearby. He must be getting closer. He studied the houses in front of him, but nothing pointed to someone having entered there recently. Of course, if the fairy knew he’d been following them, they’d made sure there were no signs of them. One of the houses obviously belonged to a family with young children, with toys spread out across the front yard. The one next to it had an impressive garden with colourful plants, appearing wild and untamed even though the garden was well-maintained. It seemed a suitable place for a fairy. Chris decided to take a closer look and walk around it, his scanner still buzzing.

There had to be something here, he thought while pushing a branch aside. Even though there was a path leading through the garden, it was tough to get through the vegetation. It could be his imagination, but it was almost as if the plants were trying to hold him back, grasping at his legs as he passed by. Could the Fae control plants? He should probably have done more research about them. But if he wanted reliable information – rather than googling – it required seeing other hunters. They had an extensive collection of books on the supernatural that would be of much help, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to face them again. Not when he was well on his way to betraying them.

Still, he’d been able to find some things to arm himself against the Fae without their help. According to his sources iron helped to deter them and weaken their powers, although it wouldn’t do actual damage, like for instance silver would to werewolves. If he wanted to hurt them, there were several plants that’d do the trick, some of which he already had in his possession, like St. John’s wort. Before he left he’d taken the time to lace his blades and bullets with it. And even if his sources were wrong, the Fae weren’t bulletproof. On top of that, his energy based weapons could hurt just about anything.

Having made his way through the plants, he saw the source of the power his scanner had detected. Although seeing was perhaps too much of a description. The portal was nearly unnoticeable, were it not that someone had recently crossed it and its surface slightly vibrated, like the air above a road on a hot day. So this is where the fairy had run off to.

A quick glance around him told Chris that he couldn’t be seen from outside of the garden. Good. He rummaged in his bag and pulled out the item needed to pass through the portal. It seemed like just a bunch of twigs with a ribbon around it, but according to his contact branches from the rowan tree were what he needed. It was amazing what you could buy online if you knew the right place to look.

Holding the twigs in one hand, gun in the other, Chris took a deep breath and stepped through the portal. It was different from the portals the demons used, he noticed. Those weren’t actually that bad to go through, like something soft brushing against his skin, only lasting about a second. This portal pulled on him from all sides, like it was trying to tear him apart, but something held it back. He suddenly wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t had the branches with him. His understanding had been that the portal simply wouldn’t work, and he’d pass through it like it wasn’t there. But what if it did work, only it’d tear him to shreds? What would happen to people unsuspectedly walking into them?

He had no time to think about this further, as he’d reached the other side of the portal. As the world slowly appeared around him, he looked around, gun at the ready. His mouth fell open when he took in the place he’d ended up in. Around him were dark, tall buildings, casting long shadows on the ground that was covered in grass and small plants. Vines grew on the buildings, climbing all the way to the top and sometimes even forming connections between them, like hanging bridges. Plants and trees were growing wherever there was space for them, sometimes this was inside of a building, with branches sticking out of the holes that served as windows. The place seemed to be abandoned for as far as he could see, but he didn’t know whether anything would be hiding in or behind the buildings.

He carefully moved around a building to find out it had no door or any other kind of reachable entrance. From what he could see through the high windows there was nothing inside, just plain stone walls. It was as if someone had tried to create the look of a building, without paying any attention to detail or functionality. This weird landscape of fake buildings lasted for as far as he could see – which wasn’t very far, with everything blocking his view.

The place was deadly silent and the Fae were nowhere to be seen. Not that he knew what to look out for, but he assumed he’d know when he saw one. Carefully he moved further into the concrete jungle, making sure to remember the way back to the portal. He tried to not step onto any plants, as he felt the Fae would not appreciate this. The one he’d followed in here couldn’t have gone very far, but there were plenty of hiding spaces. If they’d gotten into one of the buildings it would take him a very long time to find them. Not to mention he had no clue how to get inside. Having Jack with him would be handy right now, Chris thought. He could just phase through the wall, or fly up for a better vantage point.

The thought automatically made him look up, scanning the rooftops. For just a second, he thought to see something move from the corner of his eye and aimed his gun. There was nothing there. Lowering his gun, he took a step backwards. He heard a crunch and something grabbed a hold of his ankle, making him lose his balance. Chris scrambled up and looked at his foot. A vine had wrapped around it, its thorns pricking his skin. While he tried to pull it off, a sudden breeze rustled the leaves around him.

“It was a mistake to come here,” a voice sounded behind him.

It took Chris less than a second to aim his gun in the direction the voice had come from. A tall creature loomed over him, somewhat human in shape, but with long, thin limbs. Vine-like shadows moved over its grey skin and into the ground it was standing on. Horns – or antlers, he wasn’t sure – grew out of its head, making it appear even taller. A pair of piercing eyes, as black as coal, looked at him from a face he recognised. This was the fairy he was after.

Chris didn’t hesitate and fired his gun into the creature’s chest. When it stumbled backwards, he grabbed his knife and cut through the vines pinning him to the ground. He managed to crawl backwards just in time to escape the shadow vines the fairy sent towards him as soon as they’d recovered. The shadows turned out to have a mean sting – as he found out when one brushed against his leg – but only a small range. When they could no longer reach him they retracted and curled around the fairy’s body again.

His shot had left a gaping hole, Chris saw as he got up. The wound sizzled, probably from the herbs he’d laced the bullet with. So it’d worked, but hadn’t been enough to take the fairy down. He promptly fired another bullet, right next to the first. This time, the fairy didn’t seem to budge. It just stood there silently as the bullet sizzled in their chest. Slightly confused, Chris decided to aim for the head this time. If his target was going to stay still, this would be a very easy fight indeed. When he’d pulled the trigger, his first assumption was that he’d missed. He couldn’t see a scratch anywhere on the fairy, who was still standing perfectly still.

Just when he’d realised what was wrong about this picture, something slammed into him from the side. The fairy he’d been looking at vanished into smoke when the shadows wrapped around him like tentacles. He’d been tricked with an illusion to allow the real fairy to sneak up on him like this. He tried to wriggle free to be able to get a clear shot, but couldn’t move the hand his gun was in. The shadow vines burned his skin, even through his clothes. It was as if they leeched off his energy, trying to weaken him. Chris managed to get a grip on his knife and swung it at the shadows. Although the blade was going straight through them as if they weren’t there, it still seemed to have effect. With the fairy’s grip loosened he managed to lift his gun, and again fired at it. The shadows briefly flickered at the moment of impact, allowing Chris to pull himself free and put some distance between him and his opponent.

Chris turned a corner and leaned against the building’s wall, gasping for breath. His ribs hurt as if something was still trying to crush them, even though the shadows were gone. His skin was a fiery red in the places they’d touched him. Close combat was definitely not the way to go about this. He needed to stay away from the shadowy vines and not be caught off guard again. Who knew what else the Fae would be capable of. Perhaps it was time for a different strategy, Chris thought while rummaging in his bag. His gun didn’t seem to have much of an effect, and using the knife was way too dangerous. Perhaps one of his energy weapons would be of more use. He took out his energy gun and a weapon that could create powerful pulses, in case the fairy would get close again.

He peered around the corner and of course the fairy was gone. Chris looked around him warily, they could be anywhere. They’d most likely stay hidden until they’d see an opportunity to get up close and wrap him again. He’d heard stories about the Fae luring in unsuspecting humans to steal away their souls, and this was probably the way they did it. Whatever it was, he wasn’t very keen on experiencing it a second time.

He slowly walked the street, staying close to the buildings on one side for cover, but making sure to stay far away from any vines. This was easier said than done as there were vines everywhere, slithering across the ground, clinging to buildings and trees. When he’d just crossed the open space between two buildings, the vines close to him came alive and whipped at him. The energy beam Chris shot at them caused them to blacken and shrivel. This worked even better than he’d expected. Now if he could only get the fairy to show itself again…

On a whim, he decided to shoot more plants. Perhaps pissing the fairy off would cause it to make a stupid move. Chris aimed at vines, trees, strangely oversized flowers, just anything sticking out above the grass. After hitting a tree covered in red berries he heard a sound somewhere between a screech and a growl. From the direction of the sound something dark came rushing at him, nothing but a shadow. He fired a beam in its direction, directly followed by a pulse from his other weapon. The fairy was being thrown back against the wall, its body now fully visible again. It slumped down, its shadows limp like plants that needed watering. They dug into the ground, most likely to collect energy. Chris fired another shot, at the creature’s feet this time. It screeched when its supply was being cut off, leaving it unable to use any of its tricks. Although, that’s what he was hoping for.

The energy gun didn’t seem to hurt the fairy directly, just its shadows. Its body was still intact, even after Chris had aimed a beam right at its chest. This called for different measures. Now that he’d pinned it down he’d have a chance. He took the knife off his belt again, and in the meantime sent another pulse towards the fairy, who was trying to get up. It wasn’t a knife he used often, as it was made of iron, which wasn’t a material he preferred to work with. It required a lot of care or it’d start to rust. But in this situation it came in handy. Combined with the lacing of herbs it’d be a great weapon against a fairy.

Before he approached he made sure to fire another energy beam at the creature’s feet to stop it from rooting. He couldn’t allow it to use its shadows on him again. Chris slowly came closer, watching where he put his feet. When he’d gotten within the fairy’s reach he leapt forward, aiming straight for the creature’s eye. He felt the vines grasp at him in a futile attempt to stop what was happening. The creature let out a deafening screech, then silently fell back against the wall. The vines vanished like smoke now that their host couldn’t support them anymore.

Chris sat down in the grass next to it, exhausted. All he could hear was the wind and the soft crackle of the red berry tree that’d caught fire because of his shot. He only now realised this was a rowan tree, the branches of which he’d used to get here. They must mean something special to the Fae to make them lash out like that at its destruction. Chris quickly felt if his own bunch of twigs was still in its place, before the tree would be burned and he’d be stuck here without a means to get home.

When he’d made sure he didn’t lose them, he pulled himself up and approached the fairy’s body. His file instructed he was to take its horns as proof he’d done his job. He wondered if he’d be allowed to keep them; they were worth a lot on the black market. Perhaps he could give them one horn and keep the other for himself. …Or perhaps he shouldn’t try to aggravate them before he’d even won their trust.

After the unsavoury task of removing the horns, he wrapped them in a piece of cloth and stored them in his bag. Now he’d only have to find his way back to the portal and make sure not to anger any more Fae along the way. So far the place appeared to be deserted, but he couldn’t know whether his fight had attracted anything. He still wouldn’t dare get close to any of the vines climbing the walls, in case there would be more traps waiting for him. Before he arrived at the portal, he took a last glance at his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t being followed. If any of the Fae decided to follow him to the other side he wouldn’t be able to see through their human disguises.

Going through the portal again gave him that weird sensation of something pulling on him, but at least he’d arrived back on familiar terrain. On the other side the garden was just as quiet, its leaves softly rustling in the wind. Making his way through the bushes was a lot scarier now that he’d seen what the Fae were capable of, but there was no one waiting to surprise him. He knew what the next step would be, but checked his file again just to be sure he’d gotten it right. He was supposed to text a certain number and he’d get a meeting location in return.

Since it took a while for them to respond, Chris went on a stroll towards an area more populated at this time of night. He realised he looked like he’d been in a fight – which he had – but the nightclub-goers probably wouldn’t notice. He did make sure to hide his weapons, even though it made him uncomfortable not to be able to defend himself. It wasn’t very likely the Fae would try anything with so many onlookers, though. As long as he stayed around people he’d be safe. On the other hand, if they would try something, he’d put all of them in danger.

He thought it was ironic how every sound made him jump, and still he chose to be in such a noisy environment. At this point he estimated the odds of being killed by a demon or the Fae as of equal size. Perhaps after reporting his work this would shift a bit in his favour. If he’d proven to be useful, surely Dai wouldn’t send any demons to kill him. Although… they were still demons. He couldn’t just assume to know how they’d act.

His heart skipped a beat when his phone buzzed, giving him a location not far from here. This part of the city had older, impressive looking houses, without a doubt inhabited by the upper class. Having arrived at the street he wasn’t sure where to be. He didn’t have to think about this for long since one of the heavy wooden doors swung open all by itself, the sudden movement almost causing Chris to draw his gun. He stopped himself, but decided to draw it anyway while going inside. After all, he wouldn’t know what he’d find there. The hallway was dark, but he saw light coming out from under a door. He tried to open it as quietly as possible and stepped inside, gun at the ready. Inside, he found Dai sitting on the couch, enjoying a glass of whiskey. This was unexpected, Chris had assumed he’d be reporting to one of his minions instead.

“Put that thing away,” Dai said, not bothering to look up from his phone.

Chris did as he asked and hesitatingly came closer, but didn’t dare to sit down. He glanced around the room, which was decorated in a very modern fashion, most of the furniture being black and white, or made of glass.

“Is this… your place?” he asked, since Dai had kept on pretending he wasn’t there.

“It’s not. The people who live here are upstairs, in bed.”

“And you’re just chilling in their house while they’re asleep?”

Dai looked up and grinned. “Oh, they won’t be waking up.”

Chris tried not to show what he thought about that. He’d have to teach himself not to be phased by any of this if he wanted to have a chance at surviving working with demons.

Meanwhile Dai studied him from head to toe.

“I told you to kill it, not hug it,” he said, pointing at the red marks the shadows had left on his skin.

“Why not do both?” Chris shrugged, trying to act casual by putting his shaking hands in his pockets.

“Whatever you prefer.” He set his glass down on a side table. “Did you get the horns?”

“Yes, of course. …sir,” he quickly added while rummaging in his bag.

Chris put the package down on the table.

“That’s them alright,” Dai said when he’d folded back the fabric, making sure not to touch what was inside.

“You can recognise a fairy by the horns,” he explained. “I made you take them to be sure you’d gotten the right one.”

He covered the horns again.

“Now get them out of my sight.”

Chris hastily picked up the package.

“So, you don’t want to… keep them?”

“Nope. Unless it’s specifically stated in the files, you can keep whatever you find. Sell them if you want. But if you’re looking to make friends, I’d suggest giving them to Tharryn. Would make him very happy.”

This didn’t surprise Chris in the slightest. Tharryn was exactly the type of person to like creepy stuff like that. It would be smart to stay on his good side. On the other hand, how much money would he walk out on by doing so? He’d need the money to keep his arsenal in order: he needed new ammo, a replacement for the gun Jack had broken, and he’d been saving up for a new Endryn capsule as it was almost empty. He really needed all the extras he could get.

Then another thought came to mind. If the horns really were unique, putting them up for sale basically meant telling the world he’d been the killer. Even though it’d been Dai’s intention to make it appear as if a hunter did it, he didn’t really feel like making himself known to the Fae like that. His life had been stressful enough over the past months.

“Will you please stop pacing and sit down?” Dai asked, irritated.

Chris, who hadn’t even realised he’d been moving, quickly took a seat across from him and resorted to fumbling with his hoodie cords. Dai poured himself another glass of whiskey and, to his surprise, also got one for Chris.

“Does that mean I… passed your test?”

“You did,” Dai said while sliding the glass across the table. “I hadn’t really expected otherwise, or I wouldn’t have given it to you in the first place.”

“Fair enough. So, what now?”

“Now we’ll get to discuss our second deal.”

“You mean the one where you want me to betray my friends?”

Dai raised an eyebrow.

“The way I’d understood, they weren’t really your friends to begin with.”

“But that doesn’t mean I want them dead!” Chris protested.

“I never mentioned killing them.”

“It was implied.”

Dai shrugged.

“Perhaps it was. But not right away. For now, having someone on the inside will be enough. I want to know everything you know, and perhaps even more. Who is involved, who do they answer to, what are they planning? I want to know their every move, every correspondence, every thought. You’ll be telling me everything I ask, without holding anything back, you understand that?”

“I do,” Chris said, his voice less stable than he’d like. “…Sir.”

He cleared his throat.

“Although if you want to know their thoughts, asking Jack might be a safer bet.”

“Can’t think of anything involving Jack that would be a safe bet.”

“Something involving trouble and using that big mouth of his, I’d imagine,” Chris sighed.

Dai chuckled. “Speaking from experience?”

“I’ve known him since we were thirteen, that’s more than enough experience. Always talks when he’d not supposed to – he used to out me to people all the time back then. Honestly, I’m amazed he managed to hide his powers from me for this long.”

“He might be stupid, but not stupid enough to tell a hunter about his powers.”

“I wasn’t a hunter back then. I had no idea all of that even existed.”

“Still. Things like this, you’re supposed to keep them a secret. Humanity is better off not knowing of things that don’t concern them. I believe the hunters keep a similar code as well.”

“They do. I had to stalk them for days before they’d let me in on it.”

“You had to gain their trust. Hope you still got it, otherwise it’ll be hard to do your job.”

“So, what exactly do you want me to report on? And by what means?”

“I’ll assign you a contact soon, who will tell you exactly how to handle things. From then, all correspondence will go through them. We won’t be meeting like this anymore.”

Chris was relieved to hear this, and on the other hand nervous about having to work with a stranger.

“But even before they contact you,” Dai continued. “You can already start working on mapping the part of the network you know. How is it set up, how many people are there and how well are they connected? Do they work together or alone? Where do they get their supplies and how do they find their targets? Basically, write down everything that seems important to you. Will save you some work later.”

“Alright, I’ll make a list and wait for the person to contact me. Anything else I should know?”

“No, that’s about it for now,” Dai said.

“Well then,” Chris said while getting up – a little bit too quickly, causing him to see stars for a second. “I’d hate to waste any more of your time, sir.”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on walking out of here without your payment?” Dai said with a smirk.

“My… payment?”

“You didn’t think I’d have you work for nothing, did you?”

“You never mentioned a payment back when we made the deal. Apart from, you know, my life.”

“You’re right, kid. I should just rip up this cheque, then. Gotta stick to the deal.”

Chris glanced at the piece of paper between Dai’s fingers, as he lit a flame under it.

“Wait! You don’t have to?”

He probably sounded a little too eager there, Chris realised.

“I mean, paying me wouldn’t invalidate the deal or anything,” he added, calmer.

“I’m just messing with you,” Dai grinned, and he called back the fire.

“Jobs like this are always paid. I know you can’t buy loyalty, but a little bit of money certainly helps the matter.”

He held the paper out to Chris, who cautiously took it.

“You’ll be hearing from me,” Dai said, clearly disallowing another word on the matter.

“Yes, sir,” Chris said, before turning around to leave, almost bumping into a chair.

Outside, he made sure to be well around the corner and out of sight of anyone before daring to look at the paper. His jaw dropped. This certainly wasn’t “a little bit of money”! He didn’t think he’d ever been paid this much for a job. Hell, most time he didn’t even get paid at all. Hunting wasn’t a very lucrative business, at least not if he wanted to retain any kind of moral standard. He knew some of his colleagues kept to different working methods, and were in fact nothing more than hitmen or bounty hunters with a little extra knowledge of the world. He wouldn’t have any problem giving them up to the Downtown agents. Their goal should always be to keep humans safe, not sell out to the highest bidder.

Look at me, already making up excuses for what I’m expected to do, before having even started on it, Chris thought. He probably wasn’t thinking clearly. He decided he really needed some rest now, and perhaps a shower to take care of the red markings all over his body. The sun was already coming up, so it’d be best to be home before people would spot him out on the street at this hour, covered in blood and dirt, carrying a bag filled with weapons. Looking back one last time to make sure he wasn’t being followed, he picked up the pace and headed home.

#story #chris #dai

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