Tony Lee with Yukie Tony lit up a smoke to fit in with the rest of the crowd and relax as he waited for the band to play. He listened in on the chatter around the bar, hearing about how the band was from New York and they were as hardcore as it gets. Tony was usually one for peace and serenity, but he did like his fair share of brutality now and again. Among the chatter, he swore he heard some people praising God. Tony was bewildered how any holy men would be in a seedy place like this, but he put the thought aside as the band came out to play. The three men on stage cracked open a beer and began chugging them down. Quite the ritual, Tony thought.
"What's up, L.A? We are Splintered from New York, hope you fuckers are ready to get rowdy!" The main singer said on the microphone. Tony noticed something...musky smelling coming off of them. Either they had been playing with some filthy dog or it was something else entirely. As the slow guitar opened up the song, the drums came crashing down as the vocalist began to sing. Tony could feel the vibrations of anger in the air, the raw emotion from the singer was simply palpable. He could sense the man and his band were outcasts on the fringe of society, and they put their anger at the world into their songs. Tony admired the actually melodious singing from the leader, cutting through the chaos of the music elegantly.
"
FOR THE HOLY SPIRIT! Return to hell were you belong, dogs of Satan!" Voices cut through the music as a crowd of men with swords and guns started shooting the air and slaughtering people left and right. They were bum rushing the stage and Tony realized what the holy chanting was coming from. The Society of Leopold. A female hunter appeared behind Tony and drew a sword on him.
"I can smell you, monster!" Tony casually grabbed her arm and set her on fire with his gift. He watched as she squirmed and rolled around on the floor. Tony ducked into covet and tried to sneak to the exit. Meanwhile, Yukie heard the gunfire and was shocked. She knocked on the window again, asking for help from the person in the car.
Hector Sea The van came to a stop as the men carried the battered and bruised guy, now revealed to have no mouth into the warehouse. The darkness Hector was occupying flew and shaped it's way to the entrance of the warehouse, and dissipated into Hector's body. Hector looked inside at the warehouse and listened in on the conversation.
"You've been a real thorn in our side. Tell us, what did you do with our lord Cidahl?" The man said to the faceless man. Hector had heard of Cidahl, he was a demon of immense power. This was it, these had to be the cultists. Hector casually walked into the warehouse.
"So, you guys are apart of the cult I've been sent to take care of?" Hector said.
"Who the FUCK are you? Get the fuck outta here! Boys, go escort him into a bodybag!" The men walked towards Hector, and as one of them came to punch him, his hand floated through Hector's body.
"What the FUCK?" Said the cultist.
"Hmph." Hector said unenthused, appearing behind their leaders shadow. Hector lifted up the man with one hand by the neck, and stared into his eyes.
"Tell me, where is your base?" Hector said, peering into his eyes with a dominating glare.
"It's in Santa Monica, in a beach house!" The cultist said, obeying Hector's dominate.
