Exorcist Servant: Demon Hunter

Caleb squinted at the dazzling light of the rising sun, the eastern sky burning with ribbons: pinks and golds and purples and blues so intense they took your breath away.He spent most of his life drawing and sketching, and he can't remember a palette with colors as vivid as this one.

"Too many colors."

Of course, this is Hui's ability.How much of this amazement of seeing things with new eyes came from the vampire?

"Is there anyone I need to contact?" Starkweather asked from the driver's seat.

Caleb blinked, trying to focus on the interior of the car.

It was a typical nondescript government bus, devoid of any decoration other than emergency lights, a powerful engine, and no bright colors at all.

The texture of the cloth seat rubbed against his fingertips, so he folded his arms against his chest to avoid touching anything.

"I'm afraid not," he said, making no secret of the bitterness in his words.

"I have a job in Charlotte, but there's no point in contacting my boss. As soon as she finds out I'm a registered freak, I'll be fired immediately."

The detective's face twitched in a wince. "Don't call yourself that."

"What? You're going to register me, aren't you?"

Starkweather rolled his eyes: "You know what I mean, I don't mean the word 'registered', I mean 'geek'."

"Fuck," Caleb folded his long legs and put his feet on the dashboard. "That's who we are, isn't it? There's no point in giving it a nice name."

"What are your abilities? If you don't mind me asking."

Caleb snorted, "Ability, yes." It was a bureaucratic tone. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to witness the miracle."

An empty wax paper coffee cup stuck in the sleeve.Caleb narrowed his eyes, focusing all his attention on the glass.He imagined reaching out his hand, closing it with his fingers, and lifting it.

The cup dangled in the holder.

"As you can see. I know it's great, but don't clap." He can shake a two-ounce coffee mug without touching it, wow, ouch.But it was still enough to keep him on the list for the rest of his life, and enough to get him legally fired in 38 states without further reason.

①Approximately 55 grams.

"Better than me."

"Don't bother me, I'm not even a freak—sorry, 'supernatural'." Caleb shrugged and looked out the window.

"Are you sure you're going to be fired?"

They were driving down King Street when the buildings in shell pink, mint green and soft peach caught Caleb's attention.They almost glow in the morning light, so bright, so—

Damn devil.He resolutely returned his attention to the shoes. "I will be fired, it doesn't matter." Going back and not having a competent job is not his biggest problem now.

"Can I ask what your job is?"

"We're not friends, are we?" Caleb moved his gaze from his shoes to Starkweather's profile.The agent's eyes were on the road, but the corners of his mouth -- Caleb couldn't help noticing, he had a beautiful mouth -- twitched slightly. "You guys are totally ruining my life, don't try to be too nice with me."

"I'm trying to help you, Caleb."

"If SPECTR had bothered to investigate the fact that Ben's body disappeared from that goddamn undertaker, it would have helped me. But oh no - you're too busy tracking down unregistered monsters living their lives without hurting anyone fetal."

Starkweather grimaced. "It's not true, and even if you're right, what's the harm in having a chat? We're going to be stuck together for a while anyway, and I'm curious about you."

Is this a friendlier and gentler interrogation? "Okay. If you must know, I work as a barista at a coffee shop because I can't really get into art and I have to keep my head down because that's the only way I can keep my job and my apartment and my damn civil rights But, oh no, no matter how hard I try, it's all gone."

"You are blaming the wrong person. I am on your side. Believe me, as long as I can, I will fight for the rights of people with superpowers."

"Say what you want," Caleb whispered.

The agent sighed - again - but he mercifully ended the conversation.In the end, he drove onto a - I kid you not - cobbled, cobbled, stoned street and parked.

"Home," he said, pointing to a long two-story brick house.Iron-barred balconies adorn the second floor, and the entire front door is painted a delightful red. "It was originally a warehouse built in 1747 and partitioned into apartments in 1942."

Caleb reached out to adjust his glasses, but dropped his hands limply on his knees after remembering that he wasn't wearing them, and probably never would be. "Fine." He said reluctantly.

"I like it." Starkweather got out of the car and took his black canvas bag with his exorcism kit out of the trunk.The cut of his jacket doesn't do much to hide the gun holster under his left arm and the ritual sword hanging in a scabbard at his hip.Was it so that he could draw it out quickly when Ash went mad?

Caleb got out of the car and followed the agent through a steel gate and down the short path to the front door.Starkweather opened the door and beckoned him in.

Caleb stopped when he stepped through the door.He had expected that he would see the same room as he imagined for a power user controlled by the government: dull, featureless, stripped of all personality.

He was wrong.The inside of the house is stunning: a huge semicircular window lets in a lot of the sun's rays.

The walls at the front of the room were painted a deep, rich scarlet, while the back fully revealed the old brick walls.

A large brick fireplace took up almost the entire area of ​​the wall above the door.

Next to this wall, an iron staircase spirals up to the second floor.

Facing the large window, a porch, also semicircular, extended into what appeared to be a small garden, and then he realized that the door and window had once been arches for carriages.

All the furniture is composed of light colors and clear outlines, which make them stand out against the dark wooden floor.

It's probably the original one.What was certain was that it creaked loudly under Caleb's feet.Speaking of decor... taking a step back, it looks eclectic.

Brown blown glass exorcism balls hang from the windows, casting oval colored spots of light onto the ground.Clay pots, amulets of silver and iron, and wands of wood and bone were displayed in glass cases.As he passed by, a gourd rattle painted in colorful oil paint suddenly shook spontaneously.

"Interesting," Starkweather said, leaning over to look at the rattle, "it's responding to Ash's presence, even though he's not there."

Caleb ducked from the rattle. "Does this mean...?" He frowned, his voice trembling.Damn it, he's going to freak out when he sees a - well, it's not a still life, anyway.

"It's probably not a big deal." Starkweather said, smiling, trying to reassure him.

Then he walked away from the cabinet and led the way upstairs.

Stairs lead to an attic area, apparently used as Starkweather's office. "The shower is down the hall. You can also take a good soak in the bathtub if you like. Use whatever you need. Speaking of clothes, you live with your sister-in-law, right?"

Caleb didn't know what Melanie was involved in, but he didn't want to discuss it with the detective.Carefully avoiding Starkweather's piercing blue eyes, he asked, "Is she in trouble?"

"Not as far as I know, but she hasn't come home yet."

Caleb tried to keep his face calm, even as his stomach cramped with worry.The visceral memory of his - gray - fangs digging into her arm flashed in his mind: the force and savagery that would have caused the fangs to tear through cloth and skin.

Blood tastes so different from demons.

"Let me know if you find her," he said quietly. "I'm worried."

Starkweather nodded and said, "I understand. During this period, I will ask someone to bring you some clothes and tell me your size."

Caleb watched him cautiously, but the agent didn't appear to have any nefarious intentions.Maybe he just doesn't want a naked man hanging around his apartment.That's kind of disappointing, but... damn it, no!He was pretty sure he wasn't going to mess with a magician, no matter how good-looking he was.He murmured out the size—far from being big and round, he was just a slender bamboo pole. "I, uh, thanks."

"It's all right," Starkweather said, opening the door of the little linen wardrobe. "Here are the spare towels."

Caleb nodded, and the agent walked back down the hall, then poked his head around him to open another door. "Your bedroom is here."

His movement brought them closer together in the narrow hall.The faint scent of vanilla and musk cologne stimulated Caleb's senses, with the scent of warm, slightly sweaty skin underneath.Starkweather was only slightly shorter than him, but far more muscular, and looked as though he exercised regularly.His presence made the already small space even smaller.

Starkweather looked up at him, as if surprised that Caleb was so close, and he put a hand on Caleb's shoulder and pressed it lightly.He felt warm to the touch, each finger imprinted on Caleb's skin through the knitted sweater.

"You'll get through it," he said.

Why is he so friendly?This must be some kind of trick, right?Some sort of trick to get Caleb to accept his new identity, or keep him calm while still possessed, or God knows what.

But, damn it, Caleb wants to believe him, "How do you know?"

Starkweather brushed a lock of hair from Caleb's face with his other hand. "I can feel it."

Caleb's cock twitched at the intimacy and warmth of the movement.This is crazy, he shouldn't be hard on a bureaucrat, someone who just takes him as a prisoner, no matter how sexy he is.

As if realizing what he was doing, Starkweather put his hand down abruptly and took a step back.A dazzling smile came back to his face, lighting up his sapphire eyes. "Besides, I'm the best in the business. There's no non-human spirit that I can't handle. Anyway, I can get it done eventually."

"Okay," Caleb cleared his throat and looked away, hoping the dim hallway would hide the heat on his cheek. "Glad to hear that."

"I'll leave some of my hoodies at the door, they'll last a while before your stuff gets here. I'll make breakfast while you shower. Any requests?"

"I'm, uh, vegetarian."

"No bacon, got it." Starkweather dawdled for a while, as if thinking of something else to say.Then he turned abruptly and hurried downstairs.

Caleb went into the bathroom and closed the door and locked it.For the first time in these hours he was alone—

He wasn't really alone though, and that was the problem.

He hurriedly took off his torn and dried blood-stained clothes, and tried to avoid looking at himself in the mirror hanging over the sink.

When the water in the shower had reached almost scalding temperature, he stepped in and let it wash over his bare skin.Blood—his blood—had clotted in his skin and hair, and he grabbed a bar of soap and a bath pouf and scrubbed vigorously and angrily.

With nothing to distract him now, the moment of his death—the splintered wood, the pain, and the nauseating feeling of falling over everything—threatened to replay itself over and over again in his mind.He fell to his death, he lost his job, he hurt Melanie, and he was about to turn into a monster.

A rough sob escaped his mouth, and he tried to hold it back, but then another, and another.

Something inside him moved, "You're hurt." Its thoughts were restless. "Something's wrong, you're hurt, but there's no wound."

It rose from his body, and the hair on his arms stood on end like lightning about to strike.

God, it's going to be the finishing touch, let him lose himself in the damn bathroom, and then let the monster stagger down the stairs and attack Starkweather.

And Starkweather, even though he's a lightning-struck SPECTR puppet, shouldn't have his head ripped off, it's not right, it's not right, it's not right.

Now there is fear in its mind, and incomprehension. "Is he a threat to us?"

Caleb threw his head back, hysterical laughter erupted from his lips as water poured down his face.

"You're the bloody threat," he whispered. "If I get hurt, it's because of you, because you stole Ben's body and did such a good thing to me."

"I didn't mean to do that..." But its presence shrunk somehow.Ash flinched back, the hair on Caleb's arms fell back into place, as if the lightning and the premonition of the storm were gone.

"But you still did," Caleb said.

Gray didn't answer.Caleb sat in the tub crying and shaking until the water turned cold.