[Eve X]} A Sacrifice of Flesh { [Justric]

[Justric]

Wroth blinks at the mention of bloodline, glancing oddly at Caitlyn and then back to the older human. Mank was strangely silent, but did have a rather smug look about him. There is something more going on here... Oh, well, forge on!

"Well, that may be, but if the contract specified that she had to be a virgin? Well, I'm afraid you, sir, are out of luck!" The incubus made a show of shaking his head in mock sympathy. "Contracts with demons are pretty straight forward in that they are rather exact in what is required by all parties. 'Devil's in the details,' I think is the phrase."

At the look on the chief's face, Wroth nearly laughed. "Oh, come on, Mr. Cloven! Don't you get it? He's been playing you! Your demon's been stringing you along! Do you honestly think that an ageless demon with access to near unlimited power and resources couldn't find one simple girl on his own for, what, over two decades?? I thought, at first, that he was holding back because the final term of the contract was unfulfilled. But now, it's clear to me. He could have found her and tricked her into coming to you at any time, Mr. Cloven. Mank was using you for a bit of fun." Wroth pursed his lips as another thought came to him, and he turned to give Mank a grudging look of demonic admiration. "And to damn other souls along the way. That's why all the assassins that came for her were idiots, wasn't it. You didn't want them to succeed. You wanted me to kill them in a sinful state and so commit their souls to Hell."

"Keep going, Wroth," Mank cheerily urged.

"Oh, I will," Wroth assured wryly, "Because you played me, too, you old bastard! That's why Caitlyn ended up with an incubus, isn't it? You got worried that she was still a virgin and would spoil the joke's payoff. But, wait, if you pulled some strings Down Below to tap me when she got desperate enough for demonic intervention, then good old Wroth would take care of that problem for you, wouldn't it? Then you could kill Cloven here and claim his soul, kill Caitlyn for the bonus even if I got her soul, and happily returned to the Inferno with your taint spread across a wide body count and one heck of a devilish machination to boost your reputation. Oh, bravo, Mank! Bravo!"

The Rage demon took a bow.

Wroth clapped three times in mock appreciation, then shook his head. "Too bad you miscalculated one thing. Granted, the odds of this coming up were so wild, that it's not surprising you missed it, but, you see... I'm not going to let you and your little pet policeman kill the woman I love."

[Eve X]

The more Wroth revealed, the more the rage seemed to build with the chief, hands clenching into tight fists as the lust demon outlined exactly how he had been played for so many years. The situation was quickly spiralling out of the man's control, and he wasn't best pleased. For a moment, it seemed he wanted to rage against his own demon, yet with each word Wroth continued to speak, he seemed to draw the man's anger out more and more.

Still, at the demon's revelation that he would not let Mank harm the woman he loved, his snarl was accompanied by a dismissive scoff, the very notion of Wroth's love seeming to amuse and instantly be dismissed by the chief.

“Seems like we're at an impasse here, then.” The chief spoke coolly, though the chilling tone of his voice still didn't manage to hide the burning rage that was steadily building within him. Even after the revelation that he had been played for a fool by the demon on his side, the proud man was still scrambling to regain control of the situation. “Because virgin or not, she's not going to leave here alive. She's seen too much.”

A grim grin played upon the man's features as he eyed up Wroth. “But it seems to be that you're outnumbered. And out of your territory.” The man than added, smirking slightly. Behind him, the demon Caitlyn had come to known as Uriel let out a slight chuckle, seemingly bemused by the whole situation. Throughout the exchange, the demon had not spoken a word, though it had silently moved beside Cloven, beholding the argument from the side. Though it's body seemed mortal, the shadows around it seemed to distort in strange and mysterious ways, an almost vulture-like presence slowly spreading from its feature. Caitlyn could feel its hunger in the way it gazed at her.

"Take care of this situation." He snarled at Mank.

[Justric]

Mank raised his eyebrows at the chief's orders. "Certainly, my Master," he purred. Without so much as a mystical gesture, the demon of wrath materialized a revolver within Cloven's hand. "There you go."

At the look of confusion that spread across the chief's face, Mank shrugged. "Hey, you didn't fulfill the contract. I told you that you had to make a virgin sacrifice out of her, and..." He shrugged again. Then he gave a sly and wicked grin. "I did warn you that we were bound together, my Master. If I didn't do what you told me, back to Hell I go empty handed. And if you fail in something I ask of you... Of course, if you kill her now we might still be able to renegotiate. So there you go. One quick pull of the trigger, and we could start fresh and clean with one another. I wouldn't take too long to think about it, though. You see, technically we're evenly matched right now, and I'm not under any obligation to stop him from ripping your head off. The only reasons my associate here hasn't is that he needs to stay near her to protect her from both of us and because he's a melodramatic clown."

Wroth nodded in agreement. "He is correct, Mr. Cloven. On all points actually. You see, territory for us isn't a matter of set locations. It's a matter of proximity to the mortals we serve. Of course, for him and me this is all more like a game of chess-"

The incubus was violently smashed across the face. Mank had warped time and space within an instant to launch his attack on Wroth, knocking him to the ground. "And you still talk too damn much," he snarled with a rictus grin of hatred. "Time to end the game and put all the pieces away." He looks back over his shoulder at the police chief. "What are you waiting for, you idiot? Shoot her!"

[Eve X]

A look of anger, surprise and astonishment played over Arthur Cloven's face as Mank quite pointedly told him to take care of the business himself, stating that his part of the deal had never been entirely fulfilled. He glanced down at the gun in its hand, before eyes trailed down to Caitlyn.

The girl could feel her blood freeze as the man's eyes fell on her. The whole of her body refused to move as she stared at him, the look upon her face one that in cliché would have been referred to as belonging to a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car, realising something bad was going to happen, without the presence of mind to prevent it from happening.

Wroth's words faded in the background, the whole of the world seeming to fade out of existance as she stared down at the barrel, slowly trailing towards her. She couldn't take her eyes off it, couldn't move away. Her breath had formed a lump in her throat, stubbornly lingering.

And suddenly, there was movement. The world exploded into action. All of a sudden, Mank had struck Wroth, hard enough to send the incubus flying to the floor. The wrath demon barked angrily at Cloven, telling the man to use the gun. It seemed Cloven didn't need telling twice.

In horror, she saw the man click off the safety, movements almost painfully slow and clear as she stared down the barrel of his gun. His finger squeezed the trigger...

In that moment, her body finally snapped back to life. With the loud bark of the gun, the girl threw herself to the floor, limbs harshly connecting with the ground as she fell.

[Justric]

Mank turned his attention away for the least of all measurable timespans, and that was all Wroth needed. Even as Cloven raised the muzzle to fire upon Caitlyn, Wroth blurred into action and launched into a Victorian boxing stance. Fists blurred to batter Mank back across the room as the incubus launched into a display of supernaturally fast pugilism. The Wrath demon was caught off guard by the attack, throwing his forearms up to block the blows as they rained upon him-

Until the gun went off.

Time froze for Wroth, the sight of Caitlyn falling as the bullet whizzed towards her. It was all too clear. Even as she dropped to the floor, he could see the bullet's trajectory would pass right through her left lung and out of her spine. A flash of vision showed the alternate future, her blood spraying out to splatter across the floor and walls behind her. With her legs paralyzed, the police chief would simply walk up to her and finish the job as Mank rallied back against Wroth. Cloven would double-tap, one shot to the center of mass and one to the head. That possible future was so crystal clear, becoming so probable, that Wroth could almost smell the blood now.

He didn't even think. Wroth summoned his energies and twisted time and space. No human could move that quickly. It defied physics in such a way that many angels and demons wouldn't have been able to do so either, especially not when a goodly portion of their power is diverted to fighting off one of their own. It did not matter to Wroth what was and wasn't possible at that point.

The bullet crashed through his lower abdomen as he materialized in front of Caitlyn. Wroth could feel the hollow-pointed round splatter within his intestines like a red hot cramp that grew infinitely worse by any clock's tick. Blood, bright red and thick, erupted from his mouth and belly in one go. He would have gasped at the sensation had he been able to draw breath. He was a demon of Hell, one of the first Watchers who defied God and was cast into the freezing torments of the Inferno, had endured tortures that only the Devil could imagine and inflict. This was far worse than any of them. Clutching his belly, Wroth began to sink down to his knees , his back to Caitlyn. The look upon his face could only be described as stunned. It was shock, he realized. He was going into shock. This... This isn't possible, he thought. I'm... a demon... I was an angel... How can... how... Now? It's not fair... "Caitlyn?" he whispered through bile and blood flecked lips.

Mank's eyes grew wide in astonishment. Not missing a trick, he was at Wroth's side. "Tell me how you did it," he hissed, "Tell me and I'll heal you." No answer was immediately forthcoming, and so Mank shook him by the shoulders. "Tell me how you did it!"

Wroth weakly pushed the Wrath demon away to get a better view of Cloven. One hand worked its way up to a vest pocket, fingertips searching for something. "You... You need to learn... to learn love, Mr. Cloven. One last trick... one last curse..." And with what little strength Wroth's mortal body had, he flung something bright and sparkly at Cloven, a small thing no bigger than a dime that struck his chest and entered his heart. "Thomas Waxman sends his regards... you bastard... and gives you... gives you all the love and memories he... he had for... for her..." Chuckling in pants, the former demon slumped and rolled towards Caitlyn, one hand outstretched to her. He closed his eyes. "He... and I... both hope... you choke on that love... Mr. Clove... Try to kill her now... with those memories... in... your head..."

[Eve X]

It all happened too fast. The shot had sounded, her body had responded, jerking to the side, eyes squeezing shut in the anticipation of the pain that never manifested. Only the rough pain of her collision with the floor shot through her arm, flaring through her shoulder. For a moment, she just laid there, waiting for oblivion. Instead, the sounds of the room filtered through into her world once more.

Opening her eyes, they found Wroth's form, collapsed to his knees before her, so close yet at the same time, almost impossibly far away. Blood tinted the Her name rolled of his bloodied lips, soft, questioning. Her own lips moved, yet words failed to form. Before she could even find her voice, Mank was at Wroth's side, demanding to know the demon's tricks.

Horror hit as realisation washed over her, followed by confusion. Wroth had taken a bullet for her, saving her life at the cost of.... It couldn't be. It couldn't be true. He couldn't die of a bullet wound, could he? His mortal flesh would heal again, like it had done before. Wouldn't it? Yet, Mank's words, the way the wrath-demon shook at Wroth, demanded an explanation in trade for healing, drilled reality home quick. Wroth was truly wounded. And the placement of the wound spelled out fatality.

The demon's struggling words tore through her heart, the girl raising herself slowly as he flung something at cloven, the sparkle of silver striking the police chief straight in the chest. Her knees trembled as she stumbled the small step to Wroth, collapsing beside the man, fingers folding around his outstretched hand. “Wroth....”

She wanted to scream, though still, her voice refused to function. A silent tear pearled upon her cheek, trailing down the soft skin. It couldn't be. This could not be happening. Wroth could not be dying. He could not be. Not here. Now know. Not because of her.

It was only then that in the silence, she realised nobody had moved. Cloven still stood there, gun in hand, eyes on her, hands shaking as he steadied the gun at her. A determined grimace was carved upon his lips, yet it wavered, a strange look in his eyes as he still seemed to try and pull the trigger, yet, the gun laid unsteady in his hand, knuckles white as he grasped it so tightly, yet he could not squeeze the trigger.

[Justric]

Blood bubbled at Wroth's lips as he gasped and chuckled at the same time. "Can't do it, can you, Mr. Cloven? Not when you see... see the person through... someone else's eyes... I pity you, Mr. Cloven... Better start... start praying..."

Mank's mortal body heaved and buckled, barely containing the demon that lurked beneath the false flesh. Cracks appeared along the skin of his face, angry red light pouring out from beneath that bathed the room in mottled scarlet. The expression on that twisted face was livid with rage. "You cheated me my fun, Wroth. You cheated me what I worked decades for." The voice was pure hate, blistering the air with scorching breath that radiated throughout the chamber. The snarl became a vicious smile. "I do not know how you did it, Wroth, but now that you're mortal, I can entertain myself with you and your little whore for a while. Maybe I'll give you to all the damned souls you bargained into Hell. I'm sure they'd just love to see you again, now wouldn't they? How does that sound?" The Rage demon snapped his head in Caitlyn's direction. "And you? Getting to watch your face as he dies in front of you is just going to be the start of it. You on the other hand, my Master..."

This time the demon moved slowly, a predator taking his time as he stalked his prey. "You have not fulfilled your part of the contract, Mr. Cloven. Your control of me is now forfeit... as is your life!" He sprang upon the police chief, the remains of his flesh shredding away as he launched himself upon his former Master. Unlike the solid form of flesh that Wroth's demonic form had been, Mank was more images that could only be taken in part: fangs and fists, teeth and terror. The blazing red form descended upon Cloven with sickly tearing sounds.

Using what little strength he had, Wroth grasped Caitlyn's fingers. "D-don't watch, Caitlyn. Don't... don't... cry..." His other hand fumbled up to his vest pocket, pulling out the same flash he had given her earlier. "Take... take it. Two sips left." Wroth gasped suddenly. "Oh, God... Never said... they never said how... how much it hurt, Caitlyn."

The room was getting dim. Shadows that Wroth half recognized played about at the edges of his sight even as he became light headed. He felt so queer. He wanted to float right out of his head, but the heavy weight of pain and agony in his torso seemed to keep him pinned in place. It was as though he was on a tight and taut tether, one stretched to its utmost between him and his wounds. But there were words he still had to say, things his former Mistress needed to know. Wroth's voice had dropped to a frothy whisper. "The water... It's... Fountain... of Youth. Couldn't get you immortality. Sorry. Hope three... extra... extra... life times... enough? Don't worry... don't worry about Mank. Can't touch you unless you let him."

Wroth let out a shuddering breath, his gasps becoming faster as he tried to cope with the burning torment in his belly. "Just... wanted to... love you... It's not bloody fair... Contrary old bastard..."