Demon Hunter 5

Prologue

Evil has gotten stronger.

Demons-Blackwings, Werewolves, Vampires, and other terrifying beings have gained enough power, via the Black Pearl, to cross between the Underworld and Earth. Their objective: Destroy all other forms of life.

Evil has gotten stronger.

There have been too many unexplainable kidnappings and too many unsolvable murders for it to be just a coincidence.

Evil has gotten stronger.

Amidst the evil are five young men and women that fight on the side of good. They have been born on Earth with the Blessed Powers coursing through them, which they must use to defend the Earth. Each comes from a long line of Demon Hunters, which are also known as the Chosen. They have been Chosen by a greater power to hunt demons and keep the balance of good and evil in check.

This is their story.

Book One: Acquiring the Black Pearl

Chapter 1: The Gathering

Jeff touched the lump in his pocket, reassuring himself that his snub-nosed .38 was there. He pulled it out, pulled back the hammer, and snapped his wrist to the left. The wheel rolled out of the body and was full with a silver-tipped bullet in each of the eight slots. He snapped the wheel back into place and slid the gun into his pocket.

Jeff had always carried the gun; it had been his father's (who had also been a Demon Hunter), but he had died fighting the demons. His father's best friend, Keith, had presented it to him on his fifteenth birthday. As soon as he turned fifteen and was done training, he was an official Demon Hunter.

Better safe than sorry, he thought as he moved through the tall grass. A steel bat was held in his right hand, ready to lash out at anything that neared him. A cool breeze made the grass roll across the hill, making a soft swishing sound. Jeff shivered a bit in his light tan tank top. His cargo camo pants rustled, but his black army boots made no sounds at all. His black neck-long hair swished around his face in thick strands. Jeff's rust-colored skin had goose pimples popping up as he shivered again.

At those moments, Jeff was most alert. A demon could move without being heard then, the swaying grass masking the sounds of its movements.

A sparse tree, gnarled and black with death over the years, stood alone in the middle of the pasture. Jeff inspected it closely, and saw a slit in the air. One could only see from that exact angle, and Jeff thought himself lucky to have spotted it. Another breeze rustled the air around him.

Jeff spun around, searching the star-lit night for any unusual movement. The breeze died down to silence. No, not complete silence...a slight rustling sound surrounding him.

Three demons popped up out of the grass, cruel smiles and yellow teeth glowing in the moonlight. Black hair started at each demons forehead and streaked down to their wickedly bladed tails. Their skin was red. Their arms were almost as long as their hoofed legs, and three digits protruded from their hands, each ending in a yellow talon.

In a thick accent, one spoke.

"Looking for a portal, Hunter?" The last word was said with such hatred, it made Jeff's skin tingle.

Jeff ignored him, realizing he would have to fight his way out of this one. He closed his eyes and held the bat like a sword, releasing all the tension from his body. Suddenly, he was aware of all around him. Jeff fought reacting to action, any action.

This, the Hunters referred to as, was "Breaking." When one Broke, the power of good flowed through the body, making it stronger and with inhuman powers.

When Jeff opened his eyes, they were a pearly white. Hissing, the demons leapt forward. Jeff leapt up, letting the demons crash into each other in midair.

"Maybe," he suggested as he floated, "you should attack me one at a time."

One demon had recovered more quickly than the others. He was young, perhaps only two hundred years old.

"Gladly," the demon snarled as he, too, took flight. His high-pitched howling made Jeff's ears ring. After all, that's what made Screechers, Screechers. Their high-pitched screeches were meant to confuse enemies, maybe even hurt them.

"You fool," the second demon started, "he'll kill you!"

The demon in flight took no heed of his brother's words and sped towards Jeff. He was almost on top of Jeff when he lashed out with his right claws. All the sudden, Jeff was not there. Jeff appeared beside the demon and brought the bat down savagely. The hard clang and the wet smack of the bat and the demon's head mixed in the air. The demon dropped and was immediately surrounded in a pool of blood from his head.

"You damn-" the second demon never finished his sentence. The crack of a handgun filled the pasture, and a smoking hole appeared in the demon's head. The bullet exited the back of the head, and a fist sized hole opened up, spraying blood and gore. He fell to his knees and then face down on the ground.

The enraged third zigzagged through the air. Jeff, deciding on not wasting any bullets on missed shots, holstered his gun. Though Jeff was a deadeye when given the chance to aim, moving targets were not his specialty.

Jeff stayed where he was, never turning, just waiting. The demon started to circle him, faster and faster. Feeling confident, the demon turned sharply, attacking from behind Jeff. At the last possible moment, Jeff spun around, bat in both hands. He swung as if at a baseball, and smashed home. The demon was sent careening through the air into the nearby woods.

From the pools of blood below Jeff floated captured souls. The souls floated upwards toward the sky; Heaven.