Demon Hunter 5

Dillon had sinewy strength; his muscles were like liquid that could turn to stone at a moment's notice. Bob, however, had strength that stood out a little more-literally. He had muscles on top of muscles. All were hard as metal and frighteningly powerful.

Their parents had decided unanimously (being demon hunters, too) that since Dillon wasn't as big as Bob, or as strong, that he would have to be trained in martial arts. Dillon had almost immediately chosen Tae Kwon Do on account of his long legs and the kicking nature of the art.

Bob, on the other hand, had taken interest in Hop Ki Do. As big as he was, Bob could easily overpower most entities, but knowing a few reverse moves and joint locks that Hop Ki Do offered didn't hurt. It, if anything, made him more formidable.

The brothers often sparred against each other to hone their skills.

Also, Dillon and Bob both practiced with an array of weapons that their parents had gathered over the years, but both of the brothers had mastered at least one weapon.

Bob specialized with a pair of kamas. One kama had a thicker, straighter blade for hacking and attacking; the second kama had a more curved, thinner blade for defense. Bob, unlike his brother, had mastered two weapons, though. The second was any broadsword that was sturdy enough to take the punishment Bob handed out with it.

Dillon's weapon was the samurai sword. Since most of his power was in his legs, Dillon needed something to protect his upper body. The sword was an excellent choice.

Dillon gave a few final taps on the keyboard and hit the enter key. Bob wiped the sweat off of the bench press and then laid the towel around his neck. He stood up and leaned over the chair Dillon sat in.

The computer was half covered with the picture of a demon and the other half gave information.

"Very nice," Bob commented. He wondered how one could get so damn good at something like computers.

Dillon made a face and swiped at his nose. "You better take a shower before the others get here."

Bob started for the shower, but not before he lifted his arm and waved some of the smell towards Dillon.

"They're going to be here within the hour, so get ready quick!"

Bob stripped off his sweaty clothes before stepping into the shower and turning on the water to an icy cold. Some of the water splashed outside the shower before he could pull the curtain shut. He'd have to make a mental note to clean it up when he was done.

It was already nine o'clock, and he had to be awake up for tonight's meeting. He had gotten a call earlier from Jeff that suggested something big was going to happen.

Outside the shower, across the room, the wall developed a lump. It slowly turned into a man figure wearing samurai armor that fit too closely, as if it were part of the demon's skin. The shape shifter stepped away from the wall and silently pulled a long steel sword from a scabbard at its side. It slowly started towards the shower.

Bob rubbed rigorously under his arms with the bar of soap. Feeling clean always made him feel better; the cleaner the merrier, he had always thought. Suddenly he stopped... Bob heard a squelching sound, obviously too carefully made to be just a prank from his brother.

Suspecting danger, Bob made himself aware. His eyes turned a pearly white. On instinct, he leapt backward, narrowly missing a whistling overhead cut from some kind of sword. The sword was lodged in the ground, and Bob decided not to let whatever was holding it pull it out. He pushed off the wall and sent a hard-as-steel punch sailing into the assailant's face. He heard something crack under the power of the punch and felt chips of something rip through the skin of his knuckles.

He ripped through the curtain and spotted the attacker. It seemed to be some kind of samurai-clad ninja demon. He had fought against these before and remembered that if he lost eyesight on it for just a moment, it would turn invisible until it either changed again or he hit it. Keeping his eyes trained on the demon, he moved forward.

The actual demon was inside the suit of armor, but it was invisible. His armor was for protection and to show his rank.

Taking a closer look, he saw a deep dent in the black helmet; chips of the helmet had been forced away. Bob stomped on it with his powerful legs, yelling at it. He howled to the ceiling and let violent blows fly from his feet.

"You attack me? In my own house? How dare you!"

The demon was curled into the fetal position, rolled into ball and waiting for it to end. When Bob was attacked, he became nothing less than enraged. Yelling curse words and unmercifully beating an enemy to a pulp was just Bob letting on how not terrified he was, even when he was scared enough to pee his pants. Bob figured that if he got crazy nobody would want to touch him.

Dillon exploded through the door, his eyes as white as Bob's. He registered what was happening and then wrapped his arms around Bob. Bob suddenly became calm. He and his brother had a special relationship. One could not live without the other, and since they were bonded by the way of the hunter as family, if one were killed, the other would kill anything in it's path, no matter what it happened to be to get the killer. Neither of them would stop for anything-not even friends.

They became calm, and soon spirits started to flow from underneath the armor of the demon.

"I'll take care of this," Dillon whispered. "Now go get some clothes on."

Bob left the room silently.

Fifteen minutes later, the mess was cleaned up, and the utensils put away. Dillon had kept the armor and stored it in the back room.

The doorbell rang, and Dillon went to answer it.