●●05:41 A.M. - Burger Joint●●●
"Anybody need hot sauce?"
"Here. Dick, what happens if one or, in most case, all of us fucks up our missions?"
"You idjits better not fuck up, then."
"Bobby's right. Do it like it's your life on the line or, better yet, do it because there is an unborn child right in the middle of this fucked up scenario and she doesn't deserve to be possessed by a bitch. If not, then use that weapons I gave you and go out with fucking dignity."
●●Irwin Bellios●●●
The creature bounced off the floor, a blackened gash left scorched upon its abdomen. It halted the force by stabbing its spiked arm into the ground before billowing forward like a gust of wind, not at all worrying about the wound on its lower torso.
Irwin wasn't frustrated by the lack of pain response from the creature, the wound being an initial attack to gauge its combat prowess. By the looks of its humongous form that was inching ever so close to him, that attack had merely given it a superficial wound.
He gave the gray-skinned giant a wide berth as he rolled to the side and stuck to the wall, causing it to miss its mark and for its spiked hand to go through the floor. It was stuck for a moment, one that Irwin used to lash at the creature's right leg and wrap his thorny whip around its thighs.
He tightened his grip on the Flaming Whip as he lept towards the back of the creature, hooking his free arm around its bony and metal-braced neck. The creature bellowed in frustration, its body reverberating from the sheer loudness of its voice.
Irwin resisted the urge to cover his ears as an Angel Blade appeared on his right hand and tried to stab the blade into its neck. The creature, however, was wildly thrashing about, causing the blade to miss and hit its shoulder.
Black smoke crackled from the wound, sizzling with green smoke and the smell of sulfur. The once featureless face now bore two black dots that grew to the size of ping-pong balls, which undulated to the tune of the creature's screams.
"Gallu… hurt… die!" The creature suddenly stopped its thrashing before its spiked hand began to fray and dissolve into itself, forming another shape. The transformation lasted no more than one second and, in that second, its forearm had taken the form of a hairy, gray-skinned pickaxe.
Irwin dodged the first strike, letting the creature its back with its own weapon. He then jumped away from the second attack, letting the creature swing around its back with futility.
He pulled the Flaming Whip towards him and seized up the creature's movements. Bending his knees after another leap into the air, Irwin smashed his shin into the creature's head.
There was an audible crack in the air as the creature–dazed and disoriented from the force of the blow–stumbled forward, slumped into the wall, and slid back into the ground. Its head had turned into its back like a more monstrous and hideous owl, a fatal blow to normal monsters but merely a time-consuming mistake to the creature.
It continued to mewl and gargle in its own black blood as its limbs tried to stand from its position, but the current alteration to its limb was unable to find enough purchase without damaging the soft concrete and brittle drywall.
Irwin was not one to waste opportunity–not usually–and rushed forward, jumping into the creature's back and tearing off the Angel Blade away from its shoulder.
"Can't say that I miss dealing with demons like you." He remarked, stabbing the Angel Blade right into its head. "Although killing you brighten my day."
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Before he could rejoice in the trade, an explosion rocked the building that shattered his concentration. Fierce wind blasted Irwin in his place as he recoiled from the overwhelming sensation in his ears and center of gravity, causing him to stumble back a few steps.
He gritted his teeth, contemplating on whether to check up on the status of his allies up above him. He acted on instinct and rushed forward, calming himself by thinking of the positives.
'They still haven't activated their Provocation Talisman,' He reasoned to himself, 'And they each have an Angel Blade. I'm sure they can handle or, at the very least, survive the encounter.'
Just as he reached for the master bedroom, Irwin slowed down to a halt. He straightened his mustard blazer and taut his navy-blue tie, making sure to not show a blemish of destruction or blood in his body.
It was a good thing that Ella always packed him four pieces of suit–always ordering new tailored ones every week–or else he would be weaning a turtleneck and jeans right about now. It was the only visible thing Richard, and he had in common–their sense of style; Although his sense was honed by years of walking down Wall Street and seeing clown men in ludicrous outfits that were worth his yearly salary.
He breathed out, easing his fraying nerves before rapping his knuckles on the wooden door. As if it was expecting him, the door opened upon the third knock with just enough space that he could see a strange blue light inside of the room.
He entered the room and saw five figures, four of which were familiarized to him within the last twelve hours.
"Good morning, pagan goddesses." He greeted them, bowing his head lightly and affording them the only respect he would give before killing them.
"Good morning, Greythorne." Suzianna greeted in turn, sitting atop a gilded throne in the middle of the large room. Like her other dead sisters, she now wore battle armor that doubles as a gorgeous ceremonial dress.
Even from afar, Irwin could passively sense the sheer magik held within the battle artifacts. In fact, all three other goddesses within the room exude such magical energy that Irwin unconsciously clenched his fist.
"You have met my sisters, I believe. Still, it's high time I introduce them to you." Sh spread his hands as three goddesses stepped forward.
"The Butcher of Ekur, Ninšar." A rather short woman–compared to her sisters, that was–glared dutifully at Irwin. Her bob-cut dirty brown hair had a smattering of blood, as well as her battle regalia. A bandoleer full of knives was strewn across her torso, with a butcher's knife in each of her hands.
"Utu of Dreams, Mamu." An androgynous, dark-skinned human smiled warmly at Irwin, which made the latter's blood go cold in fear. There was nothing behind Mamu's golden eye, merely a facade of a positive emotion that bore utter apathy.
Mamu and Suzianna were the only supernatural creatures in the room without weapons, with Mamu wearing nothing but comfortable clothes and holding a crystal ball that surged with undeniable power.
"Good to see you all again and, uh, I don't believe we've met yet." Irwin turned towards the old woman next to a sleeping Linda Brown. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses that made her look like an even more decrepit version of Anna Wintour.
"You don't need to know my name. Only that I hold your life in my hands." She said, sipping her glass of red wine.
Irwin resisted the urge to snort, keeping his eyes entirely on the pagan goddesses. "Fair enough. So… as you might have guessed, my people are already wreaking havoc downstairs and upstairs. We already have Joseff and we're currently looking for Anthony, of whom we're going to extract. I know you only need Linda Brown to resurrect your mother, so I'm thinking that you could tell the rest of your people to let my men do their jobs. Is that clear?"
Suzianna giggled softly before locking a derisive eye on Irwin's form. "You dare order us? We have you by the fucking balls, little man!"
"Sister!" Hushed Mamu with a gentle smile. "Language. You are in the presence of the Great Matron's vessel."
Suzianna rolled her eyes since all of them were looking at Irwin but continued on, "Apologies. Where was I? Oh, right. Since you're all here and our guests are coming… Why don't you stay for dinner–Oh, that's wrong. Why don't you stay and BE dinner?"