Post by solinbeb on Dec 29, 2015 5:48:43 GMT
(Flashback...)
Red:
"Don't give me that line o' shit, Kienan. You kill people every night for that stupid God of yours an' now you're squimish when I ask you to do it?" She snorts angrily. She couldn't ask Andrew to very well suffer through her 'death' a second time. The poor man looked so ragged after she came to life in the plane.
"There's something wrong with me," she adds in. "You damn well know it! You were lookin' to see if I was followed. I was, but not by them...not anyone you know."
She paces a bit. She has changed, immensely. She would have just slugged him for arguing with her before. But she looks a little more delicate tonight. "Something happened...I can't explain it. I don't feel right. I'm having horrible dreams. Dreams of who I think is my mum. She died when I was two. How could I have dreams of her, right? An' the girls, they're cats. I'm not a cat. Andrew's not a cat. It's not right. I hear things, songs are stuck in my head I haven't heard before. I think I'm going crazy. Would you just fucking shoot me already!"
Ashe:
He watches her, then picks up the silencer and attaches it to the pistol.
"So I suppose I shouldn't bother to administer your last rights then?"
He looks her over, then motions for her to move farther into the garage as he pulls the door shut to block out the night...and help keep in the sound.
"Besides, you know the rules..."
He lets one hand drop down to his belt and takes out a knife, then offers it out to her.
"You have to at least threaten me..."
Red:
"Wait, you're not arguing with me?" She furrows her brow. Who the hell was the man standing in front of her? Something very sad wells inside of her in how willing he -is- to shoot her. Which makes her a little bit afraid that she has requested it.
But it's not her that responds to him. As soon as he pulls the door closed and is offering the knife she's leaping at him like he is chewtoy full of catnip. The vibrant green eyes burying into him as if she could cut him through with a look. Her voice is sanguine and sweet in tone, but none the less vicious in nature.
"I'll do more than threaten, hunter," The knife deftly turned around and coming down to stab him in the back. This wasn't Red at all. This woman, or man, that came through in her doesn't like Ashe in the least, and the rather psychotic little pisser of a woman he knew has gone to the Twilight zone.
Ashe:
He furrows his brow, feeling the sudden change in her demeanor. When she leaps up into the air, he simply drops backwards to the ground and forces the gun skyward and starts squeezing the hair trigger on it, letting a few rounds out at the body falling down towards him.
He'd seen the fighting style before...somewhere, a long time ago. He knew it was old, one of the other priests of the order had told him it was some form of possession. He knew the silver lined split points would shatter on impact...they were meant to. He wasn't really keen on seeing what they'd do to normal human flesh...even if it could blow holes in wolves.
He sincerely hoped they'd hit her...they would at least keep her from falling on him, that and if they missed, he'd have to explain the holes in the roof of his garage.
Red:
One, two, three bullets come whizzing at her. The first one she managed to move with a speed only a supernatural creature could use, but she's caught by the second and it sends her spinning right around in mid air only to have the third one go through her back and she hits the ground hard. Her body struggling with the shots as her heart pumps furiously into the wound.
Pain, seering hot pain washes over her. Her eyes are staring ahead as she feels consciousness slipping from her. "Fuck," she whimpers, "I don't want to die," as if she hadn't just tried to attack him two seconds ago. Her body heaves with the efforts of continuing to try and live.
Then Maggie closes her eyes. "Ashe," she whispers. "I'm not sorry," she gasps. Then she relaxes.
Ashe:
He gets up slowly...his body beginning to make him feel his age.
He crawls over to her and quickly knocks the knife away from her hand. He shifts his weight to kneel over her, quickly positioning her body a bit more properly to administer the rights of sacrament...even though she's slipped.
He sets his gun aside, then leans down over her to listen for any sign of breath...then just looks at the rather gaping wound in her chest. His eyes momentarily look skyward, frowning a bit seeing the one hole in the roof, then they turn back down to her.
"Crazy damn Ozzie girl..."
He shakes his head and eases up, retrieving his gun and moving to his work table. He glances back again before pulling a tarp from behind the bench. He walks back over to her and spreads it out, then covers her with it, rolling her over onto her stomach to wrap it around her to try to contain the mess somewhat.
--
He sits up with a start, rubbing his dripping wet face and looks around, trying to remember where he was. "Fuck...fuck, fuck fuck fuck!" He punches the steering wheel of his battered looking old 69 Plymouth Roadrunner. He looks at the clock, then shakes his head, before getting out of the car and staring at the rest area he was parked infront of, the salt scattered around the car barely still there as the rain had washed most of it away.
"God damn it, Red..." He takes another deep breath, then fishes into his jacket pocket for his cigarettes, bringing one to his lips before fishing once more for his lighter. The vision of the red maned woman with blackened eyes still fresh in his memory...the smell of her blood on his clothing, on his skin. It had been years, but the nightmare constantly visited him on the anniversary of the vent.
"Merry fuckin christmas." He flicks open the zippo, almost as old as the car and lights the weathered hand rolled cigarette. He flips it closed again and looks around, taking a long slow breath through the cancer stick. He looked road worn... the only thing on him in decent condition was the jacket and the shoulder holsters underneath. He rant his fingers through his tangled wet hair and let the cool air play over him, almost to the point of shivering from it.
"Ok... why am I getting the vibe to head this way?" He looks up for a moment, "What's the plan now, big man? No calls, no letters...now texts...no plan, again?"
He takes another slow breath, letting the smoke slowly roll back out.
"At least there haven't been any fucking tweets..."
-----
He takes another moment to let himself cool down before the rain starts to turn to snow. Another glance to the rest area and he sees a couple carrying a couple of kids inside to the restroom just staring at him from his outburst.
"What? Go take a shit already, nothing to see here."
He takes another slow drag and looks back up to the sky, "Still not talkin to me, huh? I serve faithfully for fifteen fuckin years with you finding ways to get me messages every week, and now you clam up? Can't even send a fuckin angel down for back up or at least give me a damn compliment on the fine work I've done? No, my church gets infiltrated and because I spill unholy blood on the grounds, I get kicked out? Look pal, is it my fault the demon pulled out after the trigger was pulled? Your word wasn't doing any good against them. My faith stood, you let me down."
He looks back to his car. "Maybe I should thank you for keeping me alive. Maybe not, I haven't seen any signs of you or anyone else helping."
Muttering again as he sees the couple bring their kids back out.
"Merry Christmas, hope you and your little rugrats make it to granny's safely."
He pulls his car door open and rolls the window, pulls his keys, then slams the door shut, making his way inside, feeling the need to relieve himself, too.
----
The door into the crapper was clean....most of the rest area was. Classy for a road side shithole. The little tourist section was closed off...no one wanted to work on the holidays, just some turban wearing dude with a mop bucket doing his job. A light nod to the working stiff and he goes into the john.
"Middle of the country and the crappers are clean enough to eat on... go figure." He chuckles a bit to himself, the cigarette clinging to his lip. He takes a stall and steps in, closing the half door behind him, "Privacy's a bit lacking..." Another mutter and he's taking himself out and leaning forward against the wall to relieve himself, letting the cold title radiate back to him. Flashes of the Chicago incident play across his mind again, then another little flash of a cabin crosses his mind. Then he hears the door slam closed behind him, snapping him back out of it. The stub of his cigarette falls into the porcelain as he finishes, tucking himself back in.
A banging hits his stall door, "Occupado, hombre..." He shakes his head a bit, then hears the bathroom door open and close again. "Can't take a piss in private anymore..." He kicks the flush lever, then turns to push the door open and step back out.
----
The sinks were clean...not those automated things that never want to work...but real ones, faucets with levers...at least knobs. He guesses at which was hot and end up just turns on both, lowering his head a bit as he scoops some water to splash his face to try to wake up a bit more. A few more splashes to the face and he looks up at the mirror and jumps back a bit. "Fuck!" He blinks, then steps closer, looking at himself. "Shit, I scare myself..." He chuckles softly looking at the mirror, then furrows his brow at the reflection. Then he turns around slowly, looking at the door to the stall he was in and the hand bloodied hand print on it, and the slightly dented metal. "That...just, isn't right." He mutters and reaches into his jacket to pull out one of his two angels... at least thats what he called them. He glances down to the floor and noticed the droplets of blood leading back to the door, then on the handle. "What the fuck..." He grumbles a bit, but nudges the door open, seeing a bit more of the trail outside of it.
"Hey...if you need a lift to the hospital, I'd need to know where the fuck it is." He steps back out and looks at the trail, keeping his gun ready as he moved, the lights flickering a little. "I'm sure this place has a link to emergency services... I'd call them. I don't like getting blood in my car." He looks around the corner where the man had been cleaning the floor, the marble floor still wet with the signs around it. "Anyone still around?" He eases his hold on the pistol a little as the lights flicker again.
He furrows his brow, scanning around the main entrance room, the state map on the floor and a few on each wall, centered in the state seal. He didn't see any cameras, which made him relax a little...carrying guns around in most states was frowned on, afterall.
----
He steps back around the corner for a moment, then eases his second angel out, glancing up at the flickering lights again. "Could just be the weather, old man... snow on power lines and shit..." He furrows his brow, then shakes his head. "Wouldn't explain the blood...no broken glass, no sound, no..." He pauses, glancing back down the hall towards the maintenance closet, seeing another smudge of blood on that door. "No one cleaning up this mess." He looks back into the main room, then turns back to the maintenance closet, seeing the light on, but no shadows.
He starts walking out towards the center, looking down at the map of Kansas. "Well, it's not Oz...at least." He hears footsteps coming back from the hallway to the lavatories and lets his eyes move back to the corner. "You alright? Bandaged up at least... must be a first aid kit back in that room." No answer, but the shadow makes it's way to the corner as the lights flicker again. He furrows his brow, moving back towards the state seal, kicking the cones around a bit as he stands by it, dragging his shoes a bit through the water on the floor.
"You might want to say something, jackass... you're scarin me a little." He steps back a bit more as the man rounds the corner...looking a bit glazed over. "You look like shit. If you're going to be doing that, at least let a guy share." He lowers the angels to his sides, furrowing his brow at the other man. Then janitor starts running towards him. Ashe just watches, taking a slow step back again. "Come at me you dirty damn mother fucker..."
The janitor slows and stops, just outside the state seal and looks down, then starts laughing. "A trap, Kienan? You don't think I'd fall for that kind of thing, do you?"
"Nope, just hoping." He snaps up both guns and fires, knocking the possessed man backwards to the wall. "You guys never make anything easy anymore..."
----
He looks at the body back against the wall and shakes his head, seeing it still twitching a bit. He slides his angels back into their holsters and grabs the mop and bucket and starts walking over to the body. "You guys really do make a mess. What'd you do, slit this guy's throat... let him bleed out? Make it look like some kind of fucking CSI episode in the middle of nowhere? The blood's everywhere." He mutters, mopping along the floor towards the body as it lays there, the demon trying to get control back over it. "Honestly, you fucks are a thorn in my side moreso than the damn vampires I used to hunt down."
He pokes the body with the mop head. "Hey, you still hearing me, fucker?" He slaps the mop across the face a little and sees the eyes go black again. "Ahh, there you are. You're stuck in that corpse, ya know. You don't get out until you let it die...and I think you've got some words for me, so spit them the fuck out." He slaps the mop across it's face again before mopping the floor again. <i>"He still wants your soul, priest."</i> The body coughs, blood oozing from the holes in it's shoulders, <i>"He knows where you are.</i>"
"Not like I'm advertising...who the hell needs publicity? Why else would I come to this shithole of a state? I was doing fine in New York...you assholes run me out. I went to Chicago... again you miserable fucks make my life hell."
<i>"You're tainted...you've been blooded. We know where you are.</i>" He chuckles a bit, coughing up some blood. Ashe smacks it's face with the mop again. "You guys are really pissing me the fuck off..." The demon starts to stand back up slowly. Ashe glances over, then rings out the mop into the bucket, muttering to himself for a moment.
"What's the cabin?" He looks at the possessed corpse. "Where is it?"
The demon furrows it's brow looking down at him, almost confused. <i>"I have no idea."</i>
He nods a bit, looking up at the demon, then shakes his head a bit, getting up and dunking the mop back into the bucket.
"Good."
He thrusts the mop head back at the demon landing it at it's neck, the flesh starting to sizzle and burn. The demon tries to grab hold of the mop and jerks it from Kienan's hands, breaking it and throwing it aside, hissing between gurgles. <i>"That was stupid.</i>" Ashe looks at him and chuckles, then kicks the bucket over, letting the recently blessed water flood towards him...causing the demon to start screaming in pain.
Then it was suddenly quiet as the hole appeared in the front of it's head...the trail of smoke still coming from the barrel of Ashe's angel. "If you don't know where it is, it's probably safe."
----
He furrows his brow as the body stands for a few seconds, then simply crumples down into a heap on the now water covered floor. The angel was holstered again and Ashe picks up the mop bucket and moves it just a bit closer to the body. "Well, no way this will look like an accident." He shakes his head, then fishes the keys off the janitor's body and gets back up, walking to the door. He opens it, then smashes the door from the outside, kicking through it. He lets it close again and locks it before walking back to the body and reclips the keys to his belt.
"At least it'll look like a crime scene..." He shakes his head, fishing a pouch from his jacket, scooping out some salt and sprinkles it over the body lightly. He looks up and notices the map behind where he'd shot. He furrows his brow again, "What...the...fuck?" He steps around the body and looks at the map where his bullet's fragments had landed, then traces his finger around it. "Hmmmmm..." He taps his finger to the center of the burn marks and turns and starts back towards the door, smashing the fire alarm on his way out to let the rest of the floor get soaked.
He pulls his jacket tighter around himself as he heads to his Roadrunner and unlocks it to get in.
"Fucking forest... damn cabin..." He mutters and starts it up and starts driving.
----
He grumbles a bit as he pulls off the side of the road and shuts off the engine to save the gas. "Alright, where the fuck is this hellhole..." He mutters again and pulls the map out of his glove compartment. He'd circled the area he saw in the rest area and made a few extra marks on it. "Alright...right fucking highway, I just left that damn town." He looks over it a bit more, "No fuckin roads marked on this map...so it's got to be private fuckin property. So, dirty road, or farm property line."
He looks at the map again, then mutters thinking he should probably get some reading glasses eventually, eyes like the rest of him are starting to go to shit. He wipes his face a bit, and looks at the map again.
"That's got to be at least within a mile or two..." He turns the headlights back on and looks around as the weather hadn't gotten much better. "Alright, private land... if they want to keep it private would have some kind of fence." He looks over to his passenger side window, then leans over to roll it down some. A few scans along the tree line and he notices a single reflector. "Alright...private land."
He starts the engine again, then starts driving slowly, knowing there wasn't any traffic this late. He slows, then reaches down and pulls the spotlight from the floor board and shines it along the road...then sees another reflector, then more of a path. "Ahhhh... someone walks it. Security issue, much?"
He shines it abit farther ahead...then starts driving a bit farther until he notices the snow piled a bit more along the side of the road. "There we are..." He turns down onto the path and cuts the lights and continues driving along the dirt road, which he thought was astoundingly clear considering it's location.
----
Red:
"Don't give me that line o' shit, Kienan. You kill people every night for that stupid God of yours an' now you're squimish when I ask you to do it?" She snorts angrily. She couldn't ask Andrew to very well suffer through her 'death' a second time. The poor man looked so ragged after she came to life in the plane.
"There's something wrong with me," she adds in. "You damn well know it! You were lookin' to see if I was followed. I was, but not by them...not anyone you know."
She paces a bit. She has changed, immensely. She would have just slugged him for arguing with her before. But she looks a little more delicate tonight. "Something happened...I can't explain it. I don't feel right. I'm having horrible dreams. Dreams of who I think is my mum. She died when I was two. How could I have dreams of her, right? An' the girls, they're cats. I'm not a cat. Andrew's not a cat. It's not right. I hear things, songs are stuck in my head I haven't heard before. I think I'm going crazy. Would you just fucking shoot me already!"
Ashe:
He watches her, then picks up the silencer and attaches it to the pistol.
"So I suppose I shouldn't bother to administer your last rights then?"
He looks her over, then motions for her to move farther into the garage as he pulls the door shut to block out the night...and help keep in the sound.
"Besides, you know the rules..."
He lets one hand drop down to his belt and takes out a knife, then offers it out to her.
"You have to at least threaten me..."
Red:
"Wait, you're not arguing with me?" She furrows her brow. Who the hell was the man standing in front of her? Something very sad wells inside of her in how willing he -is- to shoot her. Which makes her a little bit afraid that she has requested it.
But it's not her that responds to him. As soon as he pulls the door closed and is offering the knife she's leaping at him like he is chewtoy full of catnip. The vibrant green eyes burying into him as if she could cut him through with a look. Her voice is sanguine and sweet in tone, but none the less vicious in nature.
"I'll do more than threaten, hunter," The knife deftly turned around and coming down to stab him in the back. This wasn't Red at all. This woman, or man, that came through in her doesn't like Ashe in the least, and the rather psychotic little pisser of a woman he knew has gone to the Twilight zone.
Ashe:
He furrows his brow, feeling the sudden change in her demeanor. When she leaps up into the air, he simply drops backwards to the ground and forces the gun skyward and starts squeezing the hair trigger on it, letting a few rounds out at the body falling down towards him.
He'd seen the fighting style before...somewhere, a long time ago. He knew it was old, one of the other priests of the order had told him it was some form of possession. He knew the silver lined split points would shatter on impact...they were meant to. He wasn't really keen on seeing what they'd do to normal human flesh...even if it could blow holes in wolves.
He sincerely hoped they'd hit her...they would at least keep her from falling on him, that and if they missed, he'd have to explain the holes in the roof of his garage.
Red:
One, two, three bullets come whizzing at her. The first one she managed to move with a speed only a supernatural creature could use, but she's caught by the second and it sends her spinning right around in mid air only to have the third one go through her back and she hits the ground hard. Her body struggling with the shots as her heart pumps furiously into the wound.
Pain, seering hot pain washes over her. Her eyes are staring ahead as she feels consciousness slipping from her. "Fuck," she whimpers, "I don't want to die," as if she hadn't just tried to attack him two seconds ago. Her body heaves with the efforts of continuing to try and live.
Then Maggie closes her eyes. "Ashe," she whispers. "I'm not sorry," she gasps. Then she relaxes.
Ashe:
He gets up slowly...his body beginning to make him feel his age.
He crawls over to her and quickly knocks the knife away from her hand. He shifts his weight to kneel over her, quickly positioning her body a bit more properly to administer the rights of sacrament...even though she's slipped.
He sets his gun aside, then leans down over her to listen for any sign of breath...then just looks at the rather gaping wound in her chest. His eyes momentarily look skyward, frowning a bit seeing the one hole in the roof, then they turn back down to her.
"Crazy damn Ozzie girl..."
He shakes his head and eases up, retrieving his gun and moving to his work table. He glances back again before pulling a tarp from behind the bench. He walks back over to her and spreads it out, then covers her with it, rolling her over onto her stomach to wrap it around her to try to contain the mess somewhat.
--
He sits up with a start, rubbing his dripping wet face and looks around, trying to remember where he was. "Fuck...fuck, fuck fuck fuck!" He punches the steering wheel of his battered looking old 69 Plymouth Roadrunner. He looks at the clock, then shakes his head, before getting out of the car and staring at the rest area he was parked infront of, the salt scattered around the car barely still there as the rain had washed most of it away.
"God damn it, Red..." He takes another deep breath, then fishes into his jacket pocket for his cigarettes, bringing one to his lips before fishing once more for his lighter. The vision of the red maned woman with blackened eyes still fresh in his memory...the smell of her blood on his clothing, on his skin. It had been years, but the nightmare constantly visited him on the anniversary of the vent.
"Merry fuckin christmas." He flicks open the zippo, almost as old as the car and lights the weathered hand rolled cigarette. He flips it closed again and looks around, taking a long slow breath through the cancer stick. He looked road worn... the only thing on him in decent condition was the jacket and the shoulder holsters underneath. He rant his fingers through his tangled wet hair and let the cool air play over him, almost to the point of shivering from it.
"Ok... why am I getting the vibe to head this way?" He looks up for a moment, "What's the plan now, big man? No calls, no letters...now texts...no plan, again?"
He takes another slow breath, letting the smoke slowly roll back out.
"At least there haven't been any fucking tweets..."
-----
He takes another moment to let himself cool down before the rain starts to turn to snow. Another glance to the rest area and he sees a couple carrying a couple of kids inside to the restroom just staring at him from his outburst.
"What? Go take a shit already, nothing to see here."
He takes another slow drag and looks back up to the sky, "Still not talkin to me, huh? I serve faithfully for fifteen fuckin years with you finding ways to get me messages every week, and now you clam up? Can't even send a fuckin angel down for back up or at least give me a damn compliment on the fine work I've done? No, my church gets infiltrated and because I spill unholy blood on the grounds, I get kicked out? Look pal, is it my fault the demon pulled out after the trigger was pulled? Your word wasn't doing any good against them. My faith stood, you let me down."
He looks back to his car. "Maybe I should thank you for keeping me alive. Maybe not, I haven't seen any signs of you or anyone else helping."
Muttering again as he sees the couple bring their kids back out.
"Merry Christmas, hope you and your little rugrats make it to granny's safely."
He pulls his car door open and rolls the window, pulls his keys, then slams the door shut, making his way inside, feeling the need to relieve himself, too.
----
The door into the crapper was clean....most of the rest area was. Classy for a road side shithole. The little tourist section was closed off...no one wanted to work on the holidays, just some turban wearing dude with a mop bucket doing his job. A light nod to the working stiff and he goes into the john.
"Middle of the country and the crappers are clean enough to eat on... go figure." He chuckles a bit to himself, the cigarette clinging to his lip. He takes a stall and steps in, closing the half door behind him, "Privacy's a bit lacking..." Another mutter and he's taking himself out and leaning forward against the wall to relieve himself, letting the cold title radiate back to him. Flashes of the Chicago incident play across his mind again, then another little flash of a cabin crosses his mind. Then he hears the door slam closed behind him, snapping him back out of it. The stub of his cigarette falls into the porcelain as he finishes, tucking himself back in.
A banging hits his stall door, "Occupado, hombre..." He shakes his head a bit, then hears the bathroom door open and close again. "Can't take a piss in private anymore..." He kicks the flush lever, then turns to push the door open and step back out.
----
The sinks were clean...not those automated things that never want to work...but real ones, faucets with levers...at least knobs. He guesses at which was hot and end up just turns on both, lowering his head a bit as he scoops some water to splash his face to try to wake up a bit more. A few more splashes to the face and he looks up at the mirror and jumps back a bit. "Fuck!" He blinks, then steps closer, looking at himself. "Shit, I scare myself..." He chuckles softly looking at the mirror, then furrows his brow at the reflection. Then he turns around slowly, looking at the door to the stall he was in and the hand bloodied hand print on it, and the slightly dented metal. "That...just, isn't right." He mutters and reaches into his jacket to pull out one of his two angels... at least thats what he called them. He glances down to the floor and noticed the droplets of blood leading back to the door, then on the handle. "What the fuck..." He grumbles a bit, but nudges the door open, seeing a bit more of the trail outside of it.
"Hey...if you need a lift to the hospital, I'd need to know where the fuck it is." He steps back out and looks at the trail, keeping his gun ready as he moved, the lights flickering a little. "I'm sure this place has a link to emergency services... I'd call them. I don't like getting blood in my car." He looks around the corner where the man had been cleaning the floor, the marble floor still wet with the signs around it. "Anyone still around?" He eases his hold on the pistol a little as the lights flicker again.
He furrows his brow, scanning around the main entrance room, the state map on the floor and a few on each wall, centered in the state seal. He didn't see any cameras, which made him relax a little...carrying guns around in most states was frowned on, afterall.
----
He steps back around the corner for a moment, then eases his second angel out, glancing up at the flickering lights again. "Could just be the weather, old man... snow on power lines and shit..." He furrows his brow, then shakes his head. "Wouldn't explain the blood...no broken glass, no sound, no..." He pauses, glancing back down the hall towards the maintenance closet, seeing another smudge of blood on that door. "No one cleaning up this mess." He looks back into the main room, then turns back to the maintenance closet, seeing the light on, but no shadows.
He starts walking out towards the center, looking down at the map of Kansas. "Well, it's not Oz...at least." He hears footsteps coming back from the hallway to the lavatories and lets his eyes move back to the corner. "You alright? Bandaged up at least... must be a first aid kit back in that room." No answer, but the shadow makes it's way to the corner as the lights flicker again. He furrows his brow, moving back towards the state seal, kicking the cones around a bit as he stands by it, dragging his shoes a bit through the water on the floor.
"You might want to say something, jackass... you're scarin me a little." He steps back a bit more as the man rounds the corner...looking a bit glazed over. "You look like shit. If you're going to be doing that, at least let a guy share." He lowers the angels to his sides, furrowing his brow at the other man. Then janitor starts running towards him. Ashe just watches, taking a slow step back again. "Come at me you dirty damn mother fucker..."
The janitor slows and stops, just outside the state seal and looks down, then starts laughing. "A trap, Kienan? You don't think I'd fall for that kind of thing, do you?"
"Nope, just hoping." He snaps up both guns and fires, knocking the possessed man backwards to the wall. "You guys never make anything easy anymore..."
----
He looks at the body back against the wall and shakes his head, seeing it still twitching a bit. He slides his angels back into their holsters and grabs the mop and bucket and starts walking over to the body. "You guys really do make a mess. What'd you do, slit this guy's throat... let him bleed out? Make it look like some kind of fucking CSI episode in the middle of nowhere? The blood's everywhere." He mutters, mopping along the floor towards the body as it lays there, the demon trying to get control back over it. "Honestly, you fucks are a thorn in my side moreso than the damn vampires I used to hunt down."
He pokes the body with the mop head. "Hey, you still hearing me, fucker?" He slaps the mop across the face a little and sees the eyes go black again. "Ahh, there you are. You're stuck in that corpse, ya know. You don't get out until you let it die...and I think you've got some words for me, so spit them the fuck out." He slaps the mop across it's face again before mopping the floor again. <i>"He still wants your soul, priest."</i> The body coughs, blood oozing from the holes in it's shoulders, <i>"He knows where you are.</i>"
"Not like I'm advertising...who the hell needs publicity? Why else would I come to this shithole of a state? I was doing fine in New York...you assholes run me out. I went to Chicago... again you miserable fucks make my life hell."
<i>"You're tainted...you've been blooded. We know where you are.</i>" He chuckles a bit, coughing up some blood. Ashe smacks it's face with the mop again. "You guys are really pissing me the fuck off..." The demon starts to stand back up slowly. Ashe glances over, then rings out the mop into the bucket, muttering to himself for a moment.
"What's the cabin?" He looks at the possessed corpse. "Where is it?"
The demon furrows it's brow looking down at him, almost confused. <i>"I have no idea."</i>
He nods a bit, looking up at the demon, then shakes his head a bit, getting up and dunking the mop back into the bucket.
"Good."
He thrusts the mop head back at the demon landing it at it's neck, the flesh starting to sizzle and burn. The demon tries to grab hold of the mop and jerks it from Kienan's hands, breaking it and throwing it aside, hissing between gurgles. <i>"That was stupid.</i>" Ashe looks at him and chuckles, then kicks the bucket over, letting the recently blessed water flood towards him...causing the demon to start screaming in pain.
Then it was suddenly quiet as the hole appeared in the front of it's head...the trail of smoke still coming from the barrel of Ashe's angel. "If you don't know where it is, it's probably safe."
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He furrows his brow as the body stands for a few seconds, then simply crumples down into a heap on the now water covered floor. The angel was holstered again and Ashe picks up the mop bucket and moves it just a bit closer to the body. "Well, no way this will look like an accident." He shakes his head, then fishes the keys off the janitor's body and gets back up, walking to the door. He opens it, then smashes the door from the outside, kicking through it. He lets it close again and locks it before walking back to the body and reclips the keys to his belt.
"At least it'll look like a crime scene..." He shakes his head, fishing a pouch from his jacket, scooping out some salt and sprinkles it over the body lightly. He looks up and notices the map behind where he'd shot. He furrows his brow again, "What...the...fuck?" He steps around the body and looks at the map where his bullet's fragments had landed, then traces his finger around it. "Hmmmmm..." He taps his finger to the center of the burn marks and turns and starts back towards the door, smashing the fire alarm on his way out to let the rest of the floor get soaked.
He pulls his jacket tighter around himself as he heads to his Roadrunner and unlocks it to get in.
"Fucking forest... damn cabin..." He mutters and starts it up and starts driving.
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He grumbles a bit as he pulls off the side of the road and shuts off the engine to save the gas. "Alright, where the fuck is this hellhole..." He mutters again and pulls the map out of his glove compartment. He'd circled the area he saw in the rest area and made a few extra marks on it. "Alright...right fucking highway, I just left that damn town." He looks over it a bit more, "No fuckin roads marked on this map...so it's got to be private fuckin property. So, dirty road, or farm property line."
He looks at the map again, then mutters thinking he should probably get some reading glasses eventually, eyes like the rest of him are starting to go to shit. He wipes his face a bit, and looks at the map again.
"That's got to be at least within a mile or two..." He turns the headlights back on and looks around as the weather hadn't gotten much better. "Alright, private land... if they want to keep it private would have some kind of fence." He looks over to his passenger side window, then leans over to roll it down some. A few scans along the tree line and he notices a single reflector. "Alright...private land."
He starts the engine again, then starts driving slowly, knowing there wasn't any traffic this late. He slows, then reaches down and pulls the spotlight from the floor board and shines it along the road...then sees another reflector, then more of a path. "Ahhhh... someone walks it. Security issue, much?"
He shines it abit farther ahead...then starts driving a bit farther until he notices the snow piled a bit more along the side of the road. "There we are..." He turns down onto the path and cuts the lights and continues driving along the dirt road, which he thought was astoundingly clear considering it's location.
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