Nightfall

A sitting duck.
Kairo’s grime smudged cheeks turned downwards into a rough scowl, hands pressed firmly and in vain against his side. A sitting duck. That’s what he was right now. If a demon so much as took a small swipe at him, he was done for. No...forget demons. If he stayed out here for even another day he was done for.

"Oh, I'll carry this for you Kairo, yeah? Don't you worry Kairo, yeah? Brothers stick together Kairo, yeah?"

The physically and emotionally wounded teen's voice shook as he mocked his twin; the twin that was no long there, of course. In a fit of anger Kairo lashed out at the ground, only to stop abruptly upon contact with it. His face morphed into a tortured expression and rough, ripped gasps and hisses escaped his lips. For a moment it felt like half of his body was on fire. Afterwards there was no more pain; only that dizzy, light-headed feeling. Enough.
Kairo frowned again, taking a shaky breath and trudging forward. He had to find a town. Put everything behind him and find a town. That was all that mattered right now....

"What was it you said, mum?"

His voice was hoarse and he was probably wasting breath voicing thoughts that could really be kept internal, but the wandering and the homelessness and his brother...he'd taken to talking to himself, however crazy that might be. Even if it was insane itself it kept him from sinking into that feral void that claimed so many loners out in this godforsaken world.

"You....you said to put pressure on it, right, mum? You said..."

Stumble.
Swagger.
Straighten.
Breath......wince in pain.

Kairo grimaced and stopped again, struggling to keep upright upon his wobbling knees. Little dots of black the color of his hair flitted across his vision. A small twinge of sickness prodded his gut. God...what in the...
He'd tried to put it off so that he wouldn't shock himself, but he couldn't anymore....
He had to look....
He had to see how bad it was....

Two stormy blue eyes hesitantly aimed their gaze at his left hip, where both of the boy's hands were pressed firmly against the skin; no, against the flesh. There was no more skin there. Blood oozed out between his fingers at a laughable rate, as if mocking him for his attempts to "apply pressure". Bits of white and yellow fluid fused with the red, and suddenly he was aware of how bad it smelled. Dammit...he was pretty sure he'd gotten Demon blood on the wound too. Splashes of black were all over it, thick and almost solid with stiffness. His eyes started to sting.
It was then that Kairo decided he'd kill himself. He'd rather kill himself then die like this, and who was he kidding? The chances of finding a town out here were near zero. Denver. Denver.

"Denver...sure, Denver. Sure they're rebuilding Denver. In assland."

"If assland is a few seconds over the next hill, then you're right."

A whimsical, musical voice sounded from nearby. Kairo sighed. Voices now, eh? He really was going crazy. Hearing voices in his head. He was insane. He was mad.

"I'm mad".

"Yeah, prolly."

"Glad to see I agree with myself".

"It'd be totally insane if you didn't."

"Say, self...would you mind giving me a nice dose of happy before I die? Cour....courtesy and...and all".

...

No answer.

"Hello?".

The boy breathed, swaying slightly. He stood there swaying slightly a bit more, the pain in his side so overwhelming that he could hardly do anything but walk. And so walk he did. Trudging....over the next hill. He might as well check it out...his hip hurt so bad...

"I hate you. Asshole".

"Awww, sexy, I love you too~"

 

"One, and two and three and four!" echoed a voice from across the dim wasteland. Soft footfalls could be heard over the sound of apparent nothingness, as a small 4ft anthro-weasel made it's way over the hill. It had pure white fur underneath a tight purple garment, topped with a frilled white neckpeice. Atop it's head was a brimmed hat, a dirty feather sticking out the side of the classical robin-hood style. The weasel had bright cyan eyes, full of energy, as it bounced merrily to and fro, unfazed by the bleakness the world had placed before it.

The ambiguous weasel frowned. There was nobody around to hang around with. I mean, sure, hanging around with oneself can be quite a privilege, especially if it is 'The Amazing Zo', however 'The Zo' was quite familiar with itself, and wanted someone new to carouse with.

Wine... Oh what 'The Zo' would do for a bottle of delicious red right now. The weasel licked it's lips, remembering a time where they had been able to sit in an old farmhouse, laying on the scorched bed, getting progressively drunker with every swig. The bottle wasn't saved either, if 'The Zo' remembered correctly, it had been used to knock another individual out, in order to steal... what was it again? - Ah yes. the weasel remembered, "Twas fate that you would become mine Gemri" the weasel said, producing a small stiletto from it's belt. The weasel eyed it affectionately before placing it back within the many unseen pockets in it's belt line.

The weasel walked a small hill, stopping momentarily to inspect it's surroundings. "Well, well. I must admit, 'Zo' isn't having much fun, or as much fun as the 'Zo' could be if--" a sound caught the weasel's ears. It sounded like two men- no, one man, talking... to himself! How interesting! 'The Zo' thought to itself as it bounded happily towards the noise.

The weasel whistled as it went, skipping happily. Over the hill it saw what had made the sound - young man, and they reeked of blood. 'The Zo' assumed that they had just had a rough day, and was still eager to make their acquaintance.

"Hello, I am the Amazing Z- eww!"​

The weasel jumped back after it's attempted introduction when it saw the pooling blood. "Oh, it seems you're still bleeding - can't have a conversation with 'The Zo' like that... here." The weasel pulled out a handkerchief with a flick of it's wrist and knelt down to the bleeding individual. "For you and your... messy predicament." The weasel said with a chuckle.

 

The black haired boy's eyes flashed open. Where was he, and why? Or, more importantly, who was he? The last thing he remembered was, what? He didn't know. He looked around, his topaz eyes seeing what seemed to be a facility, though what for he had no idea. He saw pods throughout the room, if that was the right word. The pods were about 7' tall by 3' wide, big enough to easily hold all but the most over-sized of people, and they were in columns of ten, and rows of 20.

The boy took a step forward, a little weak on his feet. He turned back, realizing he had also been inside one of the pods. He saw a plaque next to it, with "Ex: 1A, X." When he first saw it, however, he read it as XIAX, and its presence next to his pod made him assume it was his name. "That answers 'who'. Now for where, and why," he said to himself. He walked slowly towards a red glowing light at the end of the hall, glancing at the windows on the pod doors. There weren't people in every one, but the few that did have people contained teens, 16 or 17 at the oldest. He realized he didn't actually know how old he was. He looked at the glass on the next pod, catching a glimpse of his reflection. He seemed to be about 15.

Xiax, as he had 'chosen' to call himself, finally reached the red light, which turned out to be a lighted sign saying "Exit" over top of a metal door. He pushed the door open, and found himself outside a warehouse-like building, surrounded by trees, with a city's skyline visible in the distance. He started walking toward the skyline, when he heard a growling noise. To his left, he saw a silver furred wolf, its teeth bared at him.

He slowly walked toward the wolf, when it suddenly started running at him. It jumped before it reached him, and sailed overtop of him. Xiax turned to follow its movements, and saw it attacking a strange being. It was 4' tall and blood red. Its head and torso were that of a small man, but it had horns atop its head and the legs of a goat. The wolf attacked the creature, snapping at its legs. The creature hit the wolf, and the animal flew across the clearing, hitting the side of the building with a thud.

A sudden, seemingly irrational rage swelled inside Xiax. He may not have known the wolf, but no animal should be treated that way. He felt his face elongate into a snout, as his knees reversed direction and his nails and teeth grew into claws and fangs. He ran at the monster, ganing a foot in height, and slashed its chest, a black, thick liquid spilling from it. Blood. Xiax, fuelled by rage, tore it to shreds. Only when it was dead and unrecognizable did he stop, and he shrank back to human size, his snout, fangs, and claws receding, his knees righting themselves. He panted a little, before walking over to the wolf.

The wolf seemed fine, if a little dazed, and started licking the blood off Xiax's hands and face. "You need a name. Its a little unoriginal, but how 'bout Fang?" The wolf barked happily, and got up, as Xiax turned back to the skyline. "Let's go, Fang." The pair began their journey to the city, leaving the facility behind.

 

The squeaking sounds of gears pressing together along a dirt road broke the silence that surrounded the wastelands. A couple of clicks and clanks constantly filled the air, and a motor furiously roared adding to the cacophony. A pair of treads parallel to each other left a nice large trail from behind, and chunks of debris that sat along the road had been pushed aside by the thick metal armor that formed the body of a tank. The tank itself had been an old German tank, a modified Leopard II that had been in service for a decade during the start of the year 2000, but had been thrown into museums after technology had continually grew and developed each day. Progressing along the road at a decent speed, it finally had called for a rest, breaking down and spitting out fire near its engine block from behind. A male had quickly crawled out from the head of the tank, anxious to put out the fire that had lit up from behind. A scruffy looking young male with jet-black hair and brown eyes, he wore a ragged, dirtied white tee and an unzipped blue jacket that had a couple of holes along both arms. On his lower body he sported black pants, a bullet belt along his right leg, and an old pair of boots. Grabbing a couple of old rags from his small quarters, he clumped them together and smacked it into the fire. In a matter of seconds the rags had dissolved, completely burning into thin air, but the fire remained. The male had sighed, and went back into the head of the tank. “Do I really…” He crawledout once more from the head; this time with a slightly large container filled with water, and had poured in onto the fire. Immediately the fire had died out, and the engine had then spewed out large pockets of steam, quickly fading into the air as the male kicked the back of the tank. “Damn it…there goes my water supply…” He let the engine cool downand proceeded to open up the vent covering the engine.

Straight from the eastern coast, the male had kept himself on a steady path towards the western coast of what formally was the United States.  Hoping to find people that were still alive was priority for him, but it had been a while since he had seen anything. There had been no sign of civilization throughout most of his journey, not even human beings—no, not even living beings at that. It was crazy to believe that humans in this world, a small part of the universe, were nearing extinction, all due to a screw-up from humanity itself. It was unexpected, not a soul could have predicted what was to come in the few years that have passed. Demons...sounds insane doesn’t it? Monsters and beings from biblical accounts, stories, folklore, the television, you name it. A threatening and terrifying fantasy had become a reality, and humanity had paid for its mistake by throwing itself towards the brink of extinction. It was an interesting phenomenon, but there was more to the story than just a couple of hell-spawn demons. Apparently there was a virus going around that gave people some crazy elemental powers, and as odd as it may have had sounded it was indeed something true. The male could recollect back before leaving the streets of what used to be Brooklyn of a couple of kids who had seemingly been abandoned by their folks. The kids were surviving with what little they had, but what the male had seen them do was something quite astounding.

They had the power to bend Mother Nature to their heart’s content, and it was amazing as to what they could do. Sadly though, they had died due to their young age, and the male wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the kids sacrificing themselves in order to ensure that he’d escape with his life. If he could, he would rather keep his story hush-hush rather than just telling anybody, but at this point someone to talk to would actually comfort him a little. After traveling alone for such a while, you’d probably think insanity would take over him and he’d be talking to himself, or maybe even talking to the tank that he trotted around in for the most part. There wasn’t much to do though, besides drive on and hope that one day you’d see someone that looks like you, and attempt to establish some sort of small society and hope that more people would come around. A guy could dream though, right?

He proceeded to work on the engine after it had cooled down, and made short work of it. Immediately after fixing up the engine, the sounds of clicking and clanking that broke the silence of the wastelands once more. He closed up the vents and had pulled out a map from his left pocket, checking to figure out where he was currently stationed. “Hmm…Colorado, eh? It’s nothin’ like back home with all this desert and wastelands but I’ll get by.” Tossing the map back onto his pocket, he kicked the thick armor of his tank and crawled back into the head of the tank, enclosing himself in his tight quarters. The scope his eyes had peeked into had shown nothing but debris for miles to come, and small minarets of sand and desert from the surrounding area. Suddenly, the sounds of a radio on his left near the controls had begun to throw static out. He slightly turned his head and blinked as a voice could be slightly heard through the static.

"THIS IS ISAAC AHMAHT… I AM IN DENVER, COLOR--- REQUESTING HELP. WE WERE ATTACKED BY A GREATER DEMON AND--- PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE TO HELP DEFEND AND FIGHT. MY CLAN OFFERS FOOD AND SHELTER FOR THOSE THAT--- I REPEAT, THIS IS---“

The voice had given in to the static, and the radio had then proceeded to shut off. The male had chuckled and had proceeded to grab his controls and drive off of the road. “Looks like today’s gonna look promising…let’s see what’s in store for today shall we?” He broke his direction and began to head left, and hadthrown himself into straight dirt and emptiness for miles and miles to come. At the sound of gears grinding together and boredom eating him up, he had nearly fell asleep at the wheel, but would always hit his head onto the controls waking him up for another good hour or so. Something had immediately caught his eye from his scopes, and had stopped his tank in its tracks. A couple of figures from a distance had stood in the middle of his path, and at the sight of other living creatures, the male had been relieved and had then made his way towards them, hoping that they weren’t anywhere near hostile.

 

Kairo blinked silently, frowned, and blinked again.

"Dear gods. I asked for pleasant dreams, not talking...ferret....conquistador...things...."

He really did hate himself now. First he was too incompetent to tell who was to be trusted and who wasn't, then he'd failed to reach Denver. Afterwards he'd been in so much pain that he couldn't even kill himself, and now he was to incompetent to successfully ask himself for a pleasant hallucination. Of course, talking weasels weren't bad thing. They simply weren't all too good. Intriguing, yes, but he was slightly worried that ferrets in Robin Hood hats dwelt within his mind, and even more ruffled by the fact that they smelt like...well...ferrets.

For a moment his lungs seemed to give out and the boy gasped, his cheeks turning blue. Despite this predicament that should be regularly chaotic to the human brain, Kairo didn't seem to mind. Yes, his stormy blue eyes widened. Yes he stood perfectly still, his heart pounding, his fingers quivering weakly over his profusely bleeding side. But in the great scheme of things he'd already accepted that he would most likely keel over dead within the next hour, and so he really had no fucks to give. This general and self-claimed truth wormed its way farther into his mind, so that he winced in pain and gave a slightly depressed look at Zo. He was going to spend his last moments talking to a weasel with a tissue. Where did weasels get tissue? From a mulberry bush? He had a limited memory of nursery rhymes, but he was pretty sure there was one regarding weasels circling something and then popping.

If this weasel popped all over him he'd tear another wound into his side.
Ah, well. There was no use battling death. If he was to spend his last hour chatting with a weasel, goddammit he'd fucking chat this weasel the hell up 'till the whole fucking shitty act of chatting with weasels was his bitch.

"What're you doing out here? Going someplace? Denver, maybe?"

His voice came out as a whisper, barely audible above his fading, ragged breath.

"If you are, it's over the hill."

And then there was that voice again. Kairo ignored it, deciding to the courtesy not to speak to his other self while speaking to his weasel self. What he wasn't aware of was that the voice was actually audible, coming from someplace above.

 

The weasel frowned as the boy began to talk, mostly due to the strange rasping noises he made. 'The Zo', didn't like it when the people he met were dying, and it seemed like that was the case far too often. The weasel knelt down beside him, dropping the tissue awkwardly onto his chest, making sure to stay well away from the blood."Here..."

Suddenly the weasel perked up in a sudden realization. it lowered it's hat so that it shadowed over it's eyes ominously, as it curved its lips into a crafty smile. The weasel knelt down slowly, lowering its lips to the boy's ear, its whisker's tickling the boys cheek as it spoke in a whisper. "You hear that? Guess what that sound is..." The weasel's voice gradually became higher pitched, building up in excitement to the point where it seemed the weasel really would 'pop'.

"It's the sound of adventure!!!"

Adventure...

Adventure...

The weasel's scream echoed multiple times across the wasteland, as if the sound had carried some amount of its boundless energy. 'The Zo' danced wildly from foot to foot, making childish noises before suddenly sitting back down abruptly beside the boy, causing a small amount of dust to be kicked up. Waving the dust away from it's face with a paw, the weasel looked back to the boy with a smile. "Alas, no adventure can start when one's companion is wounded." The weasel said regrettably. "However, 'The Zo' has the solution! For I am... 'The Amazing Zo!'" the weasel said raising his hands to the sky.

The weasel looked over at the boy's wound, pointing a finger at it, but being sure not to get too close. "Your injury shall not harm thee!" 'The Zo' stood up and extended it's arms to the boy, making sure to aim carefully at the large gash in his side. Prepare... to feel exponentially better!" The weasel said cheerfully before wiggling his fingers and making strange humming noises, similar to that of a microwave. "Ta-da!" it remarked happily, even though nothing had happened. Cupping a paw to it's ear, it listened in your direction, pretending you had given a remark on it's recent action. "Useless you say? No, no. You are just not attuned correctly for what you had just received. For I, 'The Amazing Zo', have given you just a pinch of my talents." the weasel emphasized the amount by placing two fingers together, almost touching.

The weasel wasted no time in hauling the boy to his feet. "Now then, let's get adventuring..."

"If you are, it's over the hill."

'The Zo' cocked it's head towards the sky, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, but positive it had heard something. "Ha, the sky agrees with 'Zo'. Wait, scratch that, everyone agrees with 'Zo'!" The weasel laughed, unaware it was practically dragging the wounded boy as it ran. The weasel slowed it pace until it came to a stop, realizing that the boy wasn't moving on his own accord. "C'mon, chin up boy, we need to have a marvelous adventure... We're best friends now~" 'The Zo' still didn't feel as happy as it should've, and so It devised another plan, sure to get the proclaimed adventure started. "'The Zo' has an Idea - bear with 'Zo' - I shall carry thee!" The weasel didn't wait for an answer as it scooped the boy up into its paws with surprising ease, and began walking towards the aforementioned hill. "We are going to have sooo much fun!" It said carrying a tune in it's voice.

As it trudged, 'The Zo' began to sing. 'Oh, we're off to see the Denver, the most wonderful Denver of all! - sing with me boy! It laughed, seeming very amused over the whole ordeal, as it made good pace.

 

“Is that a…” There was no question about it. The male had kept his eyes on the tank’s scope as he slowly proceeded towards the two figures. He watched as a male, possibly around the same age group, had been standing along the outskirts of the road near a pack of hills further ahead. Though, something had stood out from the male that had caught our tank-driving friend’s eyes. What looked like some kind of growingly infectious injury had stood out near the male’s left hip, splattered with various colors and a slight layer of black mixed into the injury. “Demon blood, probably…” Muttered the male, as he turned his attention to the other figure. It was interesting though at what he’d see from this other figure. It was obviously smaller in size compared to the male, so it seemed that it might have had been a younger kid or something. However, the other figure had other features that hadn’t looked so human compared to the male at the side. A demon perhaps, but that couldn’t be since it wouldn’t of had helped the male and his injury, although in turn it had probably made it worse than it already had been. It looked like an animal, a cute little ferret or weasel that had a beautiful white coat wearing purple apparel. “What exactly am I looking at…?" Was the male going insane, or was his solitude that had grown over the years affected him to the extent where he probably had been seeing illusions? Seems legitimate; illusions of cute, furry animals in adorable pieces of clothing. Perhaps his head had been screwing around with his train of thought, perceiving of something that couldn’t possibly be there.

Lost at words, the tank hustled and the engine roared as it picked up speed, closing the distance between the two figures and the driver from inside. The weasel creature had been jumpy, quickly moving around and looking to have a jolly demeanor compared to the male, who looked as if he was in the verge of death. As blood escaped the male’s very body, it had been patched up by a white piece of cloth or something of the sort, halting the excessive flow of blood that cried from the injury but continued to pry out from within. The male had shaken his head, confirming what he had been looking at to be no illusion. That bouncing, adorable little animal being was indeed reality, and yet another inexplicable phenomenon that the male indefinitely had to interact with. Turning his head from the scope for just a second, he flailed his hand within the pockets of junk in his small quarters, picking up a small case that had been identified with a bright, red cross. “I didn’t want to waste this, but someone’s about to die...Issac Whatshisface is gonna have to wait...” His small medical unit had been one of many things that had been kept for emergency circumstances, and although he had saved it in case he’d end up fighting some sort of demon or something, someone had barely managed to live and continue on alone, in solitude, and with an animal companion to his side. Right at the scope, something had caught his eyes, widening in pure fear. “Oh, shit.”

A couple of figures, far in distance from both the two figures and the tank, had steadily crossed and continued in the same direction as the two figures had been going towards, from the east. The figures had looked inhuman; standing slightly taller than any of the three could ever reach. With the skin deep in a blood red, a pair of large, almost threatening horns possibly similar to a ram, and large, stiff legs similar to that of a goat, they ran and made their way towards the two unfazed figures from afar. They had worn armor that seemed to give off a scary and abnormal aura, a demonic aura as if blessed by the very own lord they served. “Shit!” The male from within the tankcalculated the distance between him and the two figures, and the demons approaching from the other direction. Though the small weasel being had managed to pick up and carry the injured male, there was no way they’d make an increasing distance with the disadvantage of weight upon the weasel’s back. No, they’d be mincemeat all right, and solitude would once more surround the male, already tired of its presence that had laughed in his face throughout his journey. He needed to gain distance to the two figures, and at the same time enough of a distance to catch the two approaching threats off guard, allowing time for the driver to extract the two from the stretching wastelands, and continued towards the hill to wherever it’d throw the three. 

Though the Leopard II tank was old in detail and in technology, it still had been very powerful and quick for the armor and ammunition it carried. The roaring continued to break the silence, and the head of the tank slowly turned to its right. The distance had shortened, and the two targets had been in good sight, possibly too concentrated on the figures that had made their way along the wastelands. The head stopped, and had slightly danced as the body would rush through debris and quickly crawl through chunks of metal along the outskirts. A smoothbore barrel that housed a deadly but limited number of shells had rectified its aim from a vertical position, and from the scope the tank had been right on point, even as it moved through the surrounding area.

“Three…” The internal devices clanked within the head of the tank. One shell had been carefully placed along the container within the butt of the barrel. As it made itself comfortable from within, the tank confirmed its target, and had readied to fire with no hesitation. In case of anything, the device from within had kept more shells readied and fresh from the oven, ready to rip and tear into some demon flesh.

“Two…” Let the majestic work of technology and science do the trick. One shell probably wouldn’t do much compared to something much more powerful, like these elemental abilities these kids the driver had previously encountered before. Though still, if he could escape with the two possibly passive figures with their tails between their legs (literally), then so be it. A couple of fingers, trigger happy and itching to get into the action danced along a red button on the controls to the left.

“One!” The shot fired. The smoothbore barrel that had housed that one shell completely backed into the head of the shell. A trail of smoke left behind near the head had quickly cleared, dissolving into the air. The shell danced in the air and had made its target with precision. Though dust clouds had covered the two demonic figures, that hadn’t been his priority in this little optional jaunt. At his shot, he closed into the two figures, and had quickly opened the lid from the head of the tank, pulling out and waiting to see how these figures would respond. He needed a quick answer though, lives were already on the line here.

 

The weasel conquistador was insane, he decided. Absolutely, positively insane. This made sense of course , seeing as it was a hallucination coming from an insane person. Kairo briefly pondered whether or not the 'Zo' would have been more sane if he himself had been sane when he'd first imagined him up, but his thoughts were like lazy beetles slugging through a molasses of pain. Spots of white and red flitted across his vision.
This was a serious acid trip. He had no idea where he'd gotten the acid but he'd gotten some and he'd obviously started tripping all over it. The hallucination was causing pain, which he didn't even think was possible. Kairo's wound had hurt enough just standing, but then the weasel had gone and dragged him, shrieking at the top of its lungs. Once it had had quite enough of that it had scooped him up, and now every jaunty step was a fresh wave of searing pain, the movement agitating the wound.
Kairo let his head loll back against the creature's chest, closing his eyes, face twisted. He couldn't see it but he could feel the liquid running down his side.

If he looked he'd see that it was no longer red blood, it was black blood. He had black blood running down his side, white liquid mixed with it. Thin silken structures like black spiderwebs began to protrude from the demon blood, trying their best to adhere to the wounded flesh, as if they were conquering that wounded space of human flesh and creating their own.
Of course, Kairo didn't look. He tried his best not to listen because all the squealing was giving him a headache, but there was only the sea of pain. When he did risk a glance it was directly at the sky, which was interesting as far as he could focus because he swore he saw something flying around of there.
Humans didn't fly.
Demons flew, didn't they? Was a demon circling abo-

Another roll of pain pulsated through his flesh, extracting a hiss from his lips, but that was the only sound he made. He should say...about the demon above them...far above...circling....but he couldn't.
With the near last of his strength Kairo pointed weakly upwards, just a single finger turned towards the sky.
Then there was the sound of a shot. He squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck trying to figure out what was going on. Fuck fucking fuck it. He'd just stay in his ocean of pain with his finger turned towards the sky, eyes closed and head against an insane acid trip weasel conquistador.

And then later, if he still had the time, maybe he'd die.

 

The smoothbore barrel still pointed in the direction of the demons, the shell propelled from the device within creating a sea of dust clouds that had blinded the male from any sight of the demons. Though it seemed that they were caught off-guard by the shot, nothing was certain. There was little time to hesitate and wait for a response, and the tank immediately stopped near the two figures, with the male pulling himself out from the head. His head turned in the direction of the two figures and he quickly had jerked back down to grab the medical unit he had in reserve. Along with the medical unit he had grabbed a pistol for protection, especially in this circumstance where time was of the essence. He took a look at the scope for a second, and nothing could still be seen from beyond the sea of dust clouds. The technology of this tank was outdated by far, but by assumption the two demons weren’t probably too quick to react to the shot. As he reached for the lid once more and had crawled out from the head of the tank, he had heard a thud from a distance. “You’re shitting me.” The male had said to himself, assuming that there were more demons coming in to toy with their inevitable prey. A sudden turn of events had lead to another sea of dust clouds forming near the three figures, immediately blinding the male from any sight of the other two figures. Soon, another voice would conclude to another being joining in on the fray.

“Put the injured one down or both of you are dead.” In terms of defensive play, the male couldn’t be caught without a weapon to fight with. Flashing his gun, he pointed it towards the direction of the voice as the clouds began to quickly fade into thin air. The voice, though not threatening, had been somewhat close to the three figures. As the male had looked at the injured male twirling his finger up towards the sky with the weasel-ferret being on his back, and then had turned his attention to the voice. As he glanced and got a view of the being, it had been a younger male, crouching on the ground with his palms up in the air. His fingers had twitched slightly, probably showing some sign of fear towards the male and the other two figures. His gun remained steady and his finger had kept close to the trigger if anything. Time was being wasted already with this encounter, but they needed to start figuring out how they would get out of this mess before the demons would catch whiff of the presence of four beings. “Hold your tongue kid unless you want a bullet lodged into your head. We’re not here to fight, I’m not at least.” Diplomacy needed to be cut short, and the male had signaled towards the weasel and the male with his right hand. He grabbed the medical unit and had tossed it towards the two figures, then turning his attention once more towards the younger male. “This guy’s pretty injured, we need to get him out of here before the demons start closing in.”

Soon, he could hear slightly heavy footsteps coming from a distance. As he turned, the demons that had taken a mouthful of lead from afar had been approaching the four with no haste. They weren’t any happy demons either, as they gazed towards the tank that had threatened them with the explosive. He turned towards the young male who had stood opposite from him, and had signaled towards the approaching demons. It wasn’t going to get pretty, but with the tank that the male had and three other mysterious figures, they could probably stand a chance against the demons, or at least given enough time to run back towards a safe zone. At this point in the game, taking care of the demons would sound much more reasonable rather than running away. A game of cat and mouse, especially in this type of terrain would be extremely difficult to deal with. Priorities needed to be set first, and the most important one at this time was to get the injured male out of harm’s way, especially at his state where he was completely delusional. Another priority was ensuring that all four of the beings, human and weasel-ferret; escape at least with their lives to fight another day. “So what’ll it be then, sarge. It’s your call.” The driver’s old Brooklyn accent escaped his tongue, and had popped his head back into the tank, readying its barrel to throw out another shot towards the pair of demons.

 

Contrary to popular belief the dot in the sky was no demon. Said dot was not a dot either, though that should be painstakingly apparent. For the skeptics who might question such a statement this would soon become obvious. Obvious now, as a matter of fact, for the “dot” in the sky began to draw closer each second. And as it neared it began to take the shape of a humanoid. Then it was a tall, slim person. At an even closer stage it was visible as a she, and not too long after you could make out that it was a fairly attractive she. A fairly attractive she riding on…a broom? Yeah. She was riding on a broom.

Her appearance would have been an almost shocking one any day, and now it was made doubly so. In a world desolate and so void of beauty the advent of such a beautiful girl made absolutely no sense, riding on a broom or not. Yet, here she was. Her face looked soft and was slender-built, feminine in every aspect of the word. The expression upon it was kind of foxish, not the least alarmed or panicked. If anything she was amused. It was as if she were watching a particularly comedic movie and had grown bored of being so far from the screen.
Platinum blonde hair fluttered behind her like an enthralling streamer, light and silky, a few curls framing her face. For the most part it was straight but then it curled at the ends, the length of it long and the hue nice with the color of her skin, which was a pleasant pale. Her eyes were a bright, charmed green and especially luminous; actually, they nearly appeared to be glowing. Pale pink lips were turned up into a smirk. The girl was clean. If nothing else was shocking it was that she was clean. There wasn’t a speck of dust on her, and not any blood. Her choice of clothing made the cleanliness even more odd. Her form nearly mirrored an hourglass, slim and curved, especially around her waist. Apparently she knew this, because she was showing it off. That tiny orange dress barely covered a thing, and then there was a black ribbon wrapped tightly around the middle, bringing the cloth against her hips.

”Buzzkills”.

 

The weasel spun around quickly after hearing a loud blast from behind it. Zo knew it couldn't just place the boy down to run, nor could it defend them both if the weasel held the boy. 'Zo' made a cursory examination of his surroundings. There - in the distance, there were two figures, red skinned with curved horns. However it seemed the gunshot had been directed to them, stalling them for a moment, giving the weasel some time to think at least. Demons, again? 'The Zo' Knew something had to be done; and fast. It had to make a decision. "Boy, I wanted to ask if you'd--" The weasel noticed the boy looking up at something, and decided it would look too.

Up in the sky was a female figure, presumably human, riding on... a broomstick. How wonderful! 'The Zo' clasped it's paws together -- Oops! 'The Zo' had accidentally dropped it's BFF. Conveniently, the weasel dropped the boy when he heard a voice: “Put the injured one down or both of you are dead.” The weasel leaned down to the injured boy, probably winded from the fall. "'The Zo' saw how you were looking at that girl - So stop looking at her... BEST BUDDY FOR EVER! It will increase your heart rate and make you bleed out faster." The weasel perked up again, a lightbulb went up in its head. Wait, look at her! When men become aroused, it diverts the blood to your reproductive organs, thusly redirecting the bloodflow from your wound - saving your life!"

The weasel turned to the other men, getting into a heroic stance, drawing its stiletto. "Greetings fair men of this wasteland, I am 'The Amazing Zo!' This is my best friend. We have only just met, but I can see that we've grown close over the 4 minutes and 44 seconds we've been together. However enough about him... Let's talk about Me!" The weasel grabbed a stone, and held it near its face, replicating Shakespeare's iconic pose with the skull. "I am not what you perceive me to be... alas I am not a simple, stunning - unimaginatively gorgeous weasel - no, I am a trained killer - a dilettante."

'The Zo' dropped the rock, lowering itself to the bleeding boy, a small tear rolling down it's cheek. "Please, you must help him - I fear his wound will not stabilize without care - I admit... 'The Zo' needs your help." The weasel saw the two demons, still approaching, and gripped the stiletto firmly. "Gemri, time to put you to the test!" speaking confidently confidently, 'Zo' looked to the the tank operator, seeming quite pleased with the massive construct. The weasel gave the injured boy a pat on the head lovingly, before looking to the tank-engineer with a murderous glint in his eye. They shant take us Rick - that is your name now, embrace it Rick." 'Zo' moved quickly, putting it's nimble body on the top of the tank, as it looked to the grey-eyed boy. "Get my friend somewhere safe Stanley! Ensure his survival - or you'll be on the end of my blade... The weasel did have an obsession with nicknames...

'The Zo' raised Gemri to the air, signaling at the demons. "Tally-Ho!" Drive me in Rick, I wish to hit them with Gemri! And while you're at it, get me some wine god damn you, I can't kill things sober!" The weasel chuckled to itself, having full intention to slaughter these demons for hurting poor 'Tom...my', yes - The Zo shall name the injured one Tommy.

 

As Xiax and Fang were leaving the woods, they heard a loud BOOM! Fang suddenly took off in the direction it came from, Xiax muttering curses before running after the wolf. He was nowhere near as fast as it, however, and decided to start walking. He'd get there in his own time. For now, Fang could handle things.

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The canine's ears perked at the sound of the gunshot. It bolted toward it, hoping something good would come of it. Suddenly, he picked up the scent of demon. Fang altered his path slightly, so as to attack the demons. He reached them, smelling a few humans, as well as a some kind of rodent, maybe a weasel, or a rat, and began tearing into the flesh around the demons legs, forgetting the others for the time being, a thick, black liquid flowing across his fangs. He hated the taste of demon blood and began clawing them rather than biting them.

 

Orange watched the scene before her unfold without much change in her seemingly care-free demeanor, noting briefly that the wounded boy was unconscious. The girl adjusted her black bow. It had been rather loose. With a small, playful smirk she worked her fingers and tightened it, a feat that one would think would've suffocated her but instead actually bought the dress close enough to hug her hips. One would also think that said dress could've possibly been a fancy shirt if it hadn't been strapless, but that wasn't important right now.
There was dust everywhere, but nothing seemed to touch her save a smudge of the stuff on her right cheek.

"I suppose there isn't much time to be dickin' around, but I'm Isaac. It's great to meet you all, I suppose. Unless someone has something to patch this poor bastard up, I'm going back to town."

"That's truly ironic seeing as there're so many dicks around, but whatever behooves you behooves you, ne?"

She chuckled, stretching out like she was simply stretching out on the lawn, the full cups of her dress falling on either side of her mount's length. The young Halloween spirit's broom floated up a tad higher and then lazily bumbled through the air next to Issac. The prospect of a town was intriguing. That and he was carrying the boy she'd been playing with earlier. It would be fun to play with him again.
Silly humans.

"I love how none of you even considered the fact that I could be a demon."

Orange blinked and smirked, her eyes narrowing in a more than seductive fashion that somehow still seemed to be completely innocent. More than likely she'd perfected it over the years.

 

As the male adjusted the tank’s trajectory, he could hear the weasel-ferret being from outside freaking out in the middle of the conversation, probably due to the other male’s serious injuries. It looks like the medical unit he threw out wouldn’t be of much use, but there was still another problem. The demons were fast and approaching, and they were seconds from being torn apart if they didn’t make the first move against these otherworldly creatures. The weasel-ferret outside continued to freak out, and as the male had thrown his pistol back into the tank, he pecked the weasel-ferret with an old paper ball. “You want some action? Get in then.” Just as the male had begun to close the lid down to his tank after his little friend would hop in, he noticed the younger male opposite from his direction shout as if surprised, and had done something very unexpected. The young male had jumped into the air, literally soaring past the tank and the other figures as he made his way towards the demons. The male stood from inside his tank in awe, and watched as he started to fend off the demons from their position. “Looks like he made the right call then…hey weasel-ferret! Let’s get in the action!” The weasel-ferret continued to jump around, freaking out about his ‘BFF’ or whatever he was calling the male, and had then grabbed a slightly threatening stiletto. "Gemri, time to put you to the test!" The male didn’t want to mutter anything about the cuteness of the weasel-ferret joining in on the fray, but he took up its challenge, and nodded in response to it. “They shant take us Rick - that is your name now, embrace it Rick."

…Rick? The male looked at him with a funny eye when he called him Rick, but it was no time to argue about names right now. He tried to grab the weasel-ferret with his hand as he made his way up onto the tank, but it seemed that his head was much more comforting than sitting right next to him. He began to yap about the injured male, but by the time he turned around he was already in the action. The male chuckled as he got into the tank and grabbed the weasel-ferret from his head, closing the lid so he wouldn’t have to worry about the height limit. "Tally-Ho!" Drive me in Rick, I wish to hit them with Gemri! And while you're at it, get me some wine god damn you, I can't kill things sober!" It was time to get into the action, but first, the male would reach for his left, among the junk he had inside of the old, rusting Leopard tank he had a small container that had “VINTAGE” written on it. He passed it to his little weasel-ferret companion and turned his direction towards the demons and the young male who had continued to confront them, already ridding of one of them as he knocked it back with a powerful kick. “Drink up, man, we’re gonna drive her up!” The Brooklyn male grabbed onto his control and shut the lid tightly, readying another shell to be fired from the barrel of the tank. The male kept his eyes on the scope as the body of the tank turned in the direction of the demons and the boy. All of a sudden, the computer of the old tank had tracked another signature nearby. “What’s this now?”

The signature had gained proximity to the demons and the boy, and the male had stopped his tank in its tracks, turning the barrel to the approaching figure. As he looked onto his scope once more, it looked like a wolf…or more like a dog figure from a distance. It quickly had made its way towards the boy and the demons, and had begun to wreck another demon alongside with the male. The male driving from within stood in awe as the two had quickly made raw meat of the two demons, and the young male had quickly moved back to the injured figure and the tank who had made a bit of distance from the injured. The male was awestruck as he opened up the lid of his Leopard tank, and had proceeded to grab the weasel-ferret and put him to the side of the lid, as the male looked at the young male, picking up the weasel-ferret’s injured companion. “You take too long to dispatch demons.” The younger male had remarked, and had wiped some blood from his mouth. The male had smirked as he jumped out from the tank, and had fooled around with his gun. He was impressed with the young male’s skills, and had never expected to see another kid with the powers he had saw previously. He kept quiet and had watched the wolf from afar chewing on the remains of the demon, and had pointed back towards it. He was thinking of putting it down since it looked like he’d suffer enough, but something else had caught his eye. A female-like figure had come in from the sky, and had caught the attention of everyone around the tank. "Well, uh..." The young male had said, as the tank-driver had then pointed his gun upwards, threatened after a couple of demons had tried to rip their heads apart. "I suppose there isn't much time to be dickin' around, but I'm Isaac. It's great to meet you all, I suppose." Issac, Issac…the tank-driver had heard of the name before, and had turned his head slightly down towards the young male. “Are you the one who sent the transmission? I suppose I came to the right place.”

The young male had proceeded to pick up the injured male, and the tank-driver had looked up once more towards the weird looking figure from above. “Ey, boss, what about the dog-wolf thing and the weird floating thing in the sky? Want me to take care of them?” The tank-driving male had laughed as the young male had walked away, eager to find the injured male some assistance and medical attention. He grabbed the weasel-ferret from the side of his tank head and then tossed him inside of the lid, turning his attention to where the young male had walked. He for now had ignored both the weird floating female figure since he assumed it was an illusion. As for the dog, he also assumed it was just some passive being that shared the same goal around here…living and surviving against a couple of demons. The male had started up the tank once more and had closely followed behind the young male, starting some small talk as he kept the lid up from the tank. “So boss, what’s the situation here, eh? What’s goin on in your little town?”

"I love how none of you even considered the fact that I could be a demon."

Eh? The tank-driver thought it was hearing voices, but heput it aside as he looked up the female-figure floating in the sky still lingered in the sky. Maybe he was going insane after all...

 

The 'Zo' gave a little 'Oomph!' as the weasel was pushed down into the Tank. Zo positioned itself in front of the many buttons. The weasel's face lit up as the many buttons lay before it; each had a purpose, but since the weasel lacked knowledge of such things, it had numerous possible outcomes, each one an adventure in itself. "Ooooh!, Ricky M'boy - what do these ones do!?" The Zo said fanatically while it pulled a handle, and ran its paws across the dash, hitting many buttons at a random - but satisfying - sequence.

The weasel grabbed the container titled "Vintage" and placed it on it's lap. It took a long inhale along the outside of the box, smelling the savory liquid within. "Ha! I could kiss you Rick! Good show M'boy... now..." The weasel tore open the box viciously, as if it were starving to death and this could be it's last meal. "Red... how I missed you. You, sexy, addicting, smooth... Ah screw it..." Zo popped the cork with a claw and began guzzling the bottle down without pause.

Zo threw the bottle aside, breaking it inside the tank in some unknown location, but feeling extremely grateful for the wine - Ricky would be getting a 'special surprise' later... "Ahhh... thanks for the drink Rick. *Burp* Now, allow me to um... just press things and win the day..." Zo turned once again and began to feel a little buzzed. the weasel threw its arms up and wiggled its fingers in excitement, getting ready to press every button in hopes it would do something useful.

This! and this, and this, and this! The weasel rapidly pressed buttons, unsure of what would happen, but happy still as the tank began to make noises and do whatever it did as the weasel flailed wildly at the buttons. Ricky... how's Tommy and Stan?" The weasel called back as it slowly became more intoxicated. This weasel sure didn't have any alcohol tolerance...