I wiped the sweat off my brow as I balanced a tray of steaming dishes, skillfully weaving through the bustling crowd at my grandfather's restaurant.
"Excuse me, coming through," I called out politely, careful not to spill a drop of the piping-hot soup.
As I set the dishes at the customer's table, a middle-aged man with a kind smile nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Adrian. You're a hard worker, just like your grandfather."
I offered him a small smile, grateful for the compliment. "No problem, Sir. Can I get you anything else?"
"No that will be all, you have been working here quite a while, and if I remember right. Your grandpa started you out as a dishwasher at age?"
"Age 12, Sir." I answered.
"Now look at you, you have become a real hard working man." He drank some of his soup. "So what are your plans after?"
"I do not know, I might go to college or stay here and run the restaurant."
"Well you are the co-owner of 'The Eclipse'. I am glad your grandfather decided to sign a partnership with you. The food has never tasted better."
I couldn't help but to laugh. "Don't let my grandfather hear you say that.
"The man laughed and we talked for a few more minutes, before I excused myself and headed to the back office where Dylan was working on some paperwork.
"Hey, any luck?" I asked,as he shook his head as I looked at what he was doing. "Did you call the bakery to see if they had any of that Honey White bread?"
"Ah, no. I haven't gotten to it yet." Dylan answered. "Just let me finish getting the payment details for this month's payroll done and I'll do it."
"Don't sweat it, Alex just arrived so she can manage the restaurant." I said as I grabbed the phone dialing the bakery. "Anything else we need from them?"
"We are also out of pita bread, rye bread, and those muffins." Dylan replied. "Did you get the shift's for the next two months set up, we had several employees ask for days off?"
"Yeah it is all ready, it just needs to be uploaded on Sunday, and those approved for their days off have already been written down on the calendar."
He nodded as I started talking to the Richard's Bakery giving them our order for the month.
☉☉☉
I step out of the restaurant into the crisp air, grateful for the break. The city's quiet hum replaces the buzz of conversation inside. I sit down, take a sip of my iced lavender coffee—odd but comforting—and scroll through my phone, letting the world fade away.
A tingling unease creeps in, growing stronger with each passing second. I glance up and freeze.
A soccer ball hangs in the air in front of me, suspended mid-bounce. A kid, mid-run, is frozen in time, his eyes locked on the ball. Everything around me—birds, cars, people—has stopped.
My heart pounds, the only sound in the oppressive silence. I try to move, but the air feels thick, heavy. Panic sets in.
Then, from the horizon, a golden light rises, expanding until it covers the entire sky. The air pulses with waves of energy, each one hitting me harder than the last. Pain rips through me as if my body is being torn apart. I double over, coughing up blood, my scream swallowed by the relentless light.
Amid the pain, I see a figure walking toward me. He moves effortlessly through the chaos, his presence powerful and surreal. He stops in front of me, his face calm, almost serene. I can't make out his words, but they're filled with a weight I can't grasp.
He reaches out, touches my forehead, and cold rushes through me, silencing the pain. The world holds its breath.
And then, everything goes dark.
Suddenly I shot up as I started gasping for air. I slowly looked around to see that everything was normal, I must have dozed off a bit. I looked at the time to see that not even a minute had passed since I had taken my break. That's when I heard screaming as I saw customers running out the restaurant. I ran inside and what I saw made my blood run cold.
The restaurant was a mess of overturned chairs, shattered plates, and the metallic scent of blood hanging thick in the air, this was something out of a horror movie.
I didn't see them at first, but there they were—three of them. Two hulking, dog-like creatures with matted, black fur and glowing red eyes, and a man… if you could call him that. He was tall, overly muscular with skin pale and gray. His teeth were like those of a shark, his eyes red and bloodshot, a wild glint in them. He had what looked to be the pelt of some lion over his shoulder, a leather necklace with teeth of some beast tied to it. Though the two curved ram horns on his head really made him look like some kind of demon from the depths of hell.
And the dogs, or whatever they were, were just as terrifying. Their fur was pitch black, like it absorbed all the light around them, and their eyes burned with the same red glow as the man's. Their mouths were filled with sharp, yellowed teeth, and their claws scraped the floor as they moved, leaving deep gouges in the wood.
Blood was everywhere. It was splattered across the walls, pooling on the floor, dripping from the torn bodies of the customers who had been too slow to escape. The dogs were relentless, tearing through anyone in their path, ripping flesh from bone with terrifying ease. The man stood in the center of it all, watching with an almost bored expression, like he had seen this all before.
I was frozen, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched the chaos unfold. And then I saw him—Grandpa—standing in front of the demon, leaning against his cane.
"Azazel, good to see you old friend" Grandpa's voice was steady, almost calm, as he spoke the name. The name sent a shiver down my spine, and I could see the demon's grin widen at the sound of it. "I thought I had warned you to stay away."
Azazel. The name echoed in my mind, pulling at something deep inside me, something I couldn't quite grasp. The demon chuckled, a low, guttural sound that reverberated through the room, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
"You didn't think you could hide him forever, did you, you old ape?" Azazel's voice was deep and gravelly, like the sound of rocks grinding together. "You knew I would find him someday, took me over ten years, but here I am now."
Grandpa's grip on the staff tightened, his knuckles turning white. "I will die before I let you touch him."
Azazel's laugh echoed through the room, a chilling sound that seemed to make the air grow colder. "I was hoping you'd say that."
In one fluid motion, Azazel summoned a scimitar out of thin air. The blade was wickedly curved, glowing with a faint, crimson light that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Without warning, he lunged at Grandpa, moving with a speed that didn't seem impossible
The room seemed to shrink as the two figures stood their ground. Grandpa, once stooped with age, had straightened to his full height, steam seemed to be escaping his body as muscles rippled beneath his wrinkled skin as he stretched. I watched as he gripped his cane tightly, chuckling to himself.
Azazel moved first, his scimitar a blur of crimson as it sliced through the air with deadly precision. The demon's strikes were fast, wild, and brutal—each blow intended to kill.
But Grandpa was faster.
With a twist of his body, Grandpa sidestepped the first strike, his bo-staff meeting the second with a sharp clang that echoed like thunder. Sparks flew as the two weapons collided. Grandpa grinned, a flash of the fierce warrior he had once been.
"You always were too predictable, Azazel."
In response, Azazel snarled, his yellow eyes burning with fury. The demon swung again, a vicious overhead slash, but Grandpa spun low, sweeping the bo-staff under Azazel's legs. The demon staggered, off balance, and Grandpa pressed the attack, his movements fluid, each strike precise and filled with deadly intent.
Crack!
The bo-staff connected with Azazel's ribs, sending the demon flying backward. Azazel slammed into the wall, a low growl escaping his lips as he righted himself. The air around him shimmered with dark energy, and the grin on his face widened as he wiped a trickle of black ichor from his mouth.
"You've still got some fight left, old man." His voice was mocking, but there was a hint of respect. "But you can't win. Not this time."
Grandpa stood firm, his breathing steady despite the ferocity of the battle. He tapped the ground with his staff, and a wave of golden energy pulsed outward, pushing back the dark magic swirling around the demon.
"I don't need to win, Azazel," Grandpa said, his voice low but resolute. "I just need to buy time."
The demon's smile faltered for a moment, confusion flickering in his eyes. Then he charged again, this time faster, more desperate, his scimitar carving arcs of red light through the air.
But Grandpa was ready. With a swift, graceful movement, he parried the strikes, countering with a sharp blow to Azazel's shoulder, then spinning and slamming the bo-staff into the demon's chest. The force of the hit sent Azazel skidding back, his form flickering as the dark energy around him wavered.
Azazel roared, a sound that shook the very foundations of the house, but Grandpa only chuckled, cracking his knuckles once more.
"One last fight, eh?" he muttered under his breath. His eyes gleamed with determination as he took a step forward, the golden light around him intensifying. "Let's make it count."
I crawled on the floor away from the fight as I tried to leave quietly when I noticed one of the demon dogs, its glowing red eyes locked on a little girl who was cowering under a table, her hands pressed over her ears as she tried to block out the noise. My heart stopped as I watched in horror as the dog snarled, its lips curling back to reveal its sharp teeth as it stalked toward her, its claws scratching against the tile floor with each step. The girl screamed, a high-pitched sound that cut through the noise, and before I knew what I was doing, I was moving. My feet were carrying me toward her, my mind blank except for one thought: I had to save her.
Next I knew I felt my stomach twist as I appeared right in front of the little girl. Without thinking, I grabbed her and pulled her close, using my body to shield her as I held my arm out just as the dog bit down, its fangs sinking into my arm.
I didn't have time to think, didn't have time to be afraid. I just acted. I kicked out with all the strength I could muster, my foot connecting with the dog's side with a satisfying thud. The dog yelped in surprise, stumbling back a few steps, giving me just enough time to scoop the girl up and run.
I ran as fast as I could, my heart pounding in my chest as I ducked and weaved through the chaos, the girl clinging to me like her life depended on it—because it did. I didn't stop until I reached the back of the restaurant, where a few of the surviving customers had managed to barricade themselves behind a stack of chairs and tables. I handed the girl off to a woman who looked just as terrified as I felt, then turned back toward the kitchen.
My mind was racing, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I grabbed the first thing I could find—a kitchen knife. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. The weight of the knife in my hand was reassuring, but I knew it wouldn't be enough. I was just a guy with a knife against a demon dog.
As I raced back toward the chaos, gripping the kitchen knife with white-knuckled hands, I felt a sudden, strong pull on my arm. I whipped around, ready to defend myself, only to find Yuki standing there, her eyes wide with urgency as she pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for silence. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear anything else, but I nodded, trying to calm my breath.
She held me back, her gaze fixed on something beyond the kitchen door. I followed her line of sight and saw one of the demonic hounds prowling toward us, its blood-red eyes scanning the area as it sniffed the air. The beast was massive up close, its black fur matted with blood, its teeth bared in a snarl as it searched for its next victim. I could feel its murderous intent, and my grip tightened on the knife.
Before I could do anything, Yuki snatched the knife from my hand. In one swift, fluid motion, she stepped forward and plunged the blade deep between the dog's eyes. The creature let out a horrific yelp, its body convulsing as it stumbled back, pawing at its face in a desperate attempt to dislodge the blade. Blood poured from the wound, and for a moment, the hound seemed to weaken, its eyes flickering like a dying flame.
"Run, they are after you."
I barely had time to process her words before she shrugged off her leather jacket, revealing a sword tattoo, intricate and detailed, etched into her skin. The tattoo seemed almost alive, the lines glowing with an ethereal light as she reached back and gripped the hilt of the sword inked onto her body. My eyes widened in shock as the tattoo began to shift and morph, the blade becoming three-dimensional, solid, until Yuki was holding a giant cleaver sword in her hands. It was unlike any weapon I had ever seen, massive and brutal, gleaming with a deadly edge.
Yuki didn't waste a second. She kicked the wounded dog back with a force that sent it crashing into the other hound that had been advancing behind it. The impact knocked them both off balance, and in one powerful swing, Yuki brought her sword down, slicing through the air with a fierce precision. The blade cleaved through the two hounds, splitting them cleanly in half, their bodies falling to the ground in four pieces. The red glow in their eyes faded out, leaving behind only lifeless, mutilated forms.
I stared in disbelief, my mouth hanging open as I tried to make sense of what I had just seen. Yuki, the quiet, reserved girl who had been nothing more than a mystery to me, had just turned into this warrior, a force of nature that could take on a demon dog with ease.
"Where's your grandfather?" Yuki asked, her voice snapping me out of my stupor.
"H-He's fighting this demon guy named Azazel," I stammered, pointing toward the front of the restaurant. The name felt strange on my tongue, like it carried a weight I wasn't ready to bear.
Yuki cursed under her breath in a language I didn't recognize—harsh and guttural, it sounded ancient, something from another world. She took off toward the front, her movements quick and determined, and I followed, my legs moving on autopilot.
When we reached the front of the restaurant, my jaw dropped. Grandpa was sitting on a chair, his feet up on the crumbled form of Azazel. He had lit a cigar and was holding his bo-staff over his shoulders in a familiar pose.
"My Lord, this has gone far enough. You need to tell Adrian the truth! They sent the Demon Hunter after him."
My grandfather nodded as he took out the cigar from his mouth as he sighed. "I guess you are right he is at that age. Alright boy I'll tell you the truth, look I'm not your grandfather."
If my jaw could drop anymore it would. "W-wait, what do you mean by that?"
"Look, when you were born your parents trusted me to protect you and keep you from a life of pain and suffering. My real name is Samuel Abboott. I am a monk of the Southern Sect., I've been alive for over a thousand years and let me tell you raising a kid is the hardest job I have ever done, you were not an easy one to take care of."
"Wait, what are you talking about!?" I asked, I could hear my voice crack. "Nothing is making any sense, what is even going on?"
Yuki groaned. "My god's couldn't you have told him in any better way?"
My Grand- no, Mr. Abboott shrugged as he cleaned his cane of the blood. "I'm not really good with kids, you know that. Look Adrian, I'm sorry I lied to you all your life but it was to protect you. I will need to leave on a trip, I will return in a couple days and do not do anything stupid until I get back."
I watched as Samuel Abboott sat up and left the restaurant vanishing into the night.
"Is the demon guy… dead?" I asked after some silence, my voice trembling as I stared at the demon's lifeless body. Everything was moving so fast, I knew there were secrets being kept from me, but not like these.
"He'll reform sooner or later," Yuki said, her voice laced with annoyance. "Demons like him don't stay dead for long. Come help me clean up the mess."
"Wait, their bodies don't just turn into dust after a while?" I asked as she handed me a mop as I started cleaning some blood off the tile floors.
"Ha! that would make life so much easier, we have to clean the dead monster and dispose of it before the carcass attracts any animal."
☉☉☉
Hours later as I was scrubbing the floor, I was quite annoyed that Yuki had left me alone to go get herself a cup of coffee. As I grumbled to myself I heard a noise behind me. I turned around and froze. There, standing in the middle of the room, was the same girl I had seen last week—still dressed in her fancy greek armor. Her eyes looked sharp and assessing as she scanned the room. The blood and chaos didn't seem to faze her at all.
"I was wrong about you the first time" she muttered, seemingly disappointed in herself. "To think they would have sent the hunter after you."
"Yeah well to be honest, I guess we were both wrong that day." I muttered continuing to scrub the black blood, not really getting anywhere. "look I am not in the mood to talk at the moment, as you can see I am in the process of cleaning up
"Demon blood won't be removed with ordinary soap and water. You will need to get some slime gel to remove it." She spoke up, crossing her arms.
"Yeah well, we are fresh out of slime gel so I'll have to stick to the old hard way."
The girl was quiet for a while before she finally spoke.
"The other day you had asked my name, and I had assumed you were nothing but a Veiled, to think you were actually an Elean like me. My name is Thalia and I am a member of the Cadet branch of the Pendragon Royal Line." she announced, her voice steady and unwavering. "And I believe that you are exactly like me, so I am going to have to ask you to come with me."
"Geez, you really need to lose the habit of ordering me to go with you alone." I muttered, clenching my ring tightly.