Fist Full of Frogs
New Member
Devil hunter oc (Abel)
Forty five years… Wow, really getting up there. That’s what Abel thought as he watched coffee trickle into his paper cup with a tired, glazed stare. For most people, 45 is modest. But to someone in his profession, it seems ancient. (Career demon hunters tend to die young.) He gave the waitress a thankful nod before putting the steaming cup up to his lips, the smell of fresh coffee greeting his nose. He propped his elbows against the counter, listening to the idle chatter of the diner. The conversations of the customers, the clatter of plates and forks, and the staticy babble of the tv set behind the counter blaring the morning news all faded into the background. Abel reminisced on his long and grueling career. He had a good run, better than some of his peers.
Over the years he’d seen some of the most skilled, experienced hunters in the business get wasted or step down. Just to be instantly replaced by some grinning, wide eyed rookie. A vicious cycle, but it was important work. Someone had to do it. Yet either through skill, or a stroke of luck, Abel always had persisted.
Suddenly, the television grabbed his attention. His head spun to look at the little box of shifting colors and light.
“In recent news, there have been reports of a devil held up in the electronics factory leading to a full evacuation of the premises.” The scratchy voice of the reporter announced. ”Authorities seem to be turning the threat over to the local bounty hunters. We advise everyone to steer clear of the southern end of the city until the creature has been dealt with.”
Abel stood up with a groan. That was his queue. He fished his wallet out of his pocket, dropping a few dollar bills on the counter before skulking towards the exit, taking his coffee with him. The sunrise flooded through the front window of the restaurant. Abel was unsure if it would be his last. Not how he expected to be celebrating his birthday, but he was grateful he was celebrating it at all. As Abel placed his grizzled hand on the doorknob, he felt his stomach groan. His only regret was not ordering a hash brown before he left.
Arriving at the factory, he stepped out of his car and fixed his tie. Slipping a hand into his jacket, he produced a shiny steel hatchet. Gripping it’s black, polymer handle with one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other, he stepped into the factory.
Perhaps it was time for this old dog to call it quits, he thought to himself. Hang up his hatchet and live a quiet life. Retire, open up a store, buy a boat or something. No… he had too much self respect for that. But at the same time, that kind of pride was going to get him killed. This was going to be his last job. Why test his luck any further? One last job.
Abel found himself in a dark room, surrounded by dormant machines. The only light source came from a window pane high above him. The air was heavy with dust, he could see it floating in the sunlight. The silence was loud as the man scanned around, searching the factory for whatever monstrosity was waiting for him inside.
Forty five years… Wow, really getting up there. That’s what Abel thought as he watched coffee trickle into his paper cup with a tired, glazed stare. For most people, 45 is modest. But to someone in his profession, it seems ancient. (Career demon hunters tend to die young.) He gave the waitress a thankful nod before putting the steaming cup up to his lips, the smell of fresh coffee greeting his nose. He propped his elbows against the counter, listening to the idle chatter of the diner. The conversations of the customers, the clatter of plates and forks, and the staticy babble of the tv set behind the counter blaring the morning news all faded into the background. Abel reminisced on his long and grueling career. He had a good run, better than some of his peers.
Over the years he’d seen some of the most skilled, experienced hunters in the business get wasted or step down. Just to be instantly replaced by some grinning, wide eyed rookie. A vicious cycle, but it was important work. Someone had to do it. Yet either through skill, or a stroke of luck, Abel always had persisted.
Suddenly, the television grabbed his attention. His head spun to look at the little box of shifting colors and light.
“In recent news, there have been reports of a devil held up in the electronics factory leading to a full evacuation of the premises.” The scratchy voice of the reporter announced. ”Authorities seem to be turning the threat over to the local bounty hunters. We advise everyone to steer clear of the southern end of the city until the creature has been dealt with.”
Abel stood up with a groan. That was his queue. He fished his wallet out of his pocket, dropping a few dollar bills on the counter before skulking towards the exit, taking his coffee with him. The sunrise flooded through the front window of the restaurant. Abel was unsure if it would be his last. Not how he expected to be celebrating his birthday, but he was grateful he was celebrating it at all. As Abel placed his grizzled hand on the doorknob, he felt his stomach groan. His only regret was not ordering a hash brown before he left.
Arriving at the factory, he stepped out of his car and fixed his tie. Slipping a hand into his jacket, he produced a shiny steel hatchet. Gripping it’s black, polymer handle with one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other, he stepped into the factory.
Perhaps it was time for this old dog to call it quits, he thought to himself. Hang up his hatchet and live a quiet life. Retire, open up a store, buy a boat or something. No… he had too much self respect for that. But at the same time, that kind of pride was going to get him killed. This was going to be his last job. Why test his luck any further? One last job.
Abel found himself in a dark room, surrounded by dormant machines. The only light source came from a window pane high above him. The air was heavy with dust, he could see it floating in the sunlight. The silence was loud as the man scanned around, searching the factory for whatever monstrosity was waiting for him inside.
