|
Post by Ayen on Sept 14, 2024 14:29:02 GMT -6
She could tell he was trying to get under her skin somehow. Which in all honesty wasn't a hard thing to do when it came to Ayanna. Ayanna knew she was a hothead at times. Quick to anger when somebody tugged at the right strings. The only thing that didn't make her cave into that anger right now was caution. Not knowing what this man was capable of. Or even what he was was unnerving for Ayanna. Though she didn't let it show on her face.
As for what she truly wanted. Even she wasn't certain of that. She was only an eighteen year old woman. Some would say she had a lifetime to figure out what she truly wanted out of life. A husband? Children? Sex? Marriage? A place in heaven as her mother and father believed she could get because of her human soul. They were possibilities. She began hunting demons and the supernatural out of revenge. She kept doing it to help people. She was in a position in her life where she could help thousands of people. And if Father Paul taught her anything it was that.
"Now why should I show you my hand when you won't even show me yours?" she asked with a smirk.
|
|
|
Post by Jean Vilain on Sept 14, 2024 14:55:33 GMT -6
Jean leaned forward slightly, the shadows around him subtly deepening, though the light in the room didn’t change. His index finger tapped her shadow once again, the slight, almost imperceptible brush of void against her soul reminding her of the strange power he wielded. The smile on his face widened, not with amusement, but with a sense of quiet confidence. "Ah, smart girl," he said, his voice as smooth as silk. "But showing my hand? That’s a dangerous game, don’t you think?" He leaned back once more, folding his hands neatly on the table. "You see, Ayanna, I don’t play like the others you’ve faced. The demons you hunt, the monsters in the dark—they’re predictable, easy to read. But me?" He chuckled softly, the sound carrying a chilling undertone. "I’ve been doing this for far too long to make the first move. That’s what they want you to do—show your cards, expose your weakness." He tapped the table once more, eyes narrowing just slightly as if gauging her reaction. "But here’s the thing—what I want isn’t a mystery. You think I’m after power, or souls, or whatever it is your demons barter for. But no… I’m after something far more interesting. People like you, with your fire, your purpose—now that’s what fascinates me." He picked up his pizza again, taking a small, deliberate bite, chewing slowly. "As for showing my hand? Let’s just say, I prefer to keep things... ambiguous. It keeps the game more interesting, don't you think?" He swallowed, then gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But I’ll give you this: I’m not here to take from you. Not yet, anyway. I’m here to see what you’ll offer me, of your own free will." He tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of intrigue in his gaze. "After all, a deal is only worth something if both parties think they’re getting what they want, isn't that right?"
Jean's smirk deepened as his finger continued to trace the edges of her shadow on the table. "But, of course, if you're not interested... well, maybe your friend Constantine could be persuaded. I understand he's quite the... Visionary.
|
|
|
Post by Ayen on Sept 14, 2024 15:08:22 GMT -6
That did it. That one name that parted Vilain's lips. The name of the man who has become a friend and an ally to Ayanna over the span of one year. The only family she had left with the exception of her living biological mother who lived life back in Chicago as a nun. Alas Jean Vilain had finally found the right buttons to push.
Ayanna stood up quickly. Almost knocking over the table between them and her chair as she did so. Ayanna reached her right hand into her jean jacket and drew the ebony black 9mm Beretta that was hiding inside of it. She aimed the barrel of the gun right at the forehead of the man. Whatever he was. Point blank range making dodging very difficult. Her finger ready to squeeze the trigger and eject a single bullet into the man in black's skull ending this conversation for good as her steel blue eyes narrowed over the fiend.
"How about I fire a bullet into your skull and we see which one of us is the atom?"
|
|
|
Post by Jean Vilain on Sept 14, 2024 15:25:45 GMT -6
Jean didn’t flinch. In fact, a ghost of a smile crept across his lips as the cold steel of the Beretta's barrel was aimed directly at his forehead. The weight of the room shifted once again, as though the shadows themselves had pulled back to watch the scene unfold. His finger paused on her shadow, tapping it one last time, as if in amusement. "You could try," he said, voice still maddeningly calm. His eyes, dark and bottomless, met hers with unwavering intensity. "But I wonder... do you really believe a simple bullet will make a difference? After all, you’re not the first person to try. And none of them lived long enough to regret it." The air grew thick again, an almost palpable tension coiling between them. But Jean made no move to disarm her or even defend himself. Instead, he leaned back ever so slightly, as if inviting her to pull the trigger, daring her to follow through. "I can tell I’ve struck a nerve, Ayanna," he continued, his voice like silk, smooth yet carrying an edge of something dangerous. "But don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. You see, killing me? That might be your last mistake. And believe me, Constantine will pay the price."
Jean’s eyes gleamed as he watched Ayanna, the tension between them almost tangible. But just as the moment teetered on the edge of violence, something shifted in the air. Out of the corner of Ayanna’s eye, barely in her peripheral vision, a figure appeared. A humble priest, standing with an air of calm certainty that starkly contrasted the oppressive presence of Jean Vilain. Father Paul. Even a small glance would be enough for Vilain to vanish from his chair.
|
|
|
Post by Ayen on Sept 14, 2024 16:44:34 GMT -6
"That's what ammunition is for," she said bitterly.
The more this Jean Vilain spoke the more he reminded her of Jein. Jein wouldn't have flinched at a gun to his head either. Considering that most bullets didn't do jack shit against the more powerful demons. At least not the first couple of shots. But Ayanna had met few creatures that could survive a couple of clips worth of large bullets colliding into the body. She was at a disadvantage however being a hybrid mixed of human and demon. As both anti-demonic weapons and regular human weapons could kill her. The double edged sword. Jean didn't need to know that however. Or maybe he already did.
Before she could go through with her act. Before she could squeeze the trigger. She saw the image out the corner of her eye. Ayanna knew it'd be a death sentence most likely to take her eye off of Vilain but her emotions got the better of her. She turned her head, the Beretta still aimed at Vilain's head. And her eyes saddened at the sight of her dead adopted father. Father Paul. The priest of her home. Standing right in front of her.
"Dad?"
She wanted him to be real. To somehow had survived the attack by Jein and make it here to sooth her fears. Her insecurities. Her doubts. But she knew it wasn't real. He wasn't really here. He was in heaven with the angels. With God. At least that what she hoped. For God wouldn't be just if he didn't permit Father Paul into heaven. Jesus wouldn't be her savior if Father Paul was burning an eternity in hell. Ayanna then glanced back at Vilain.
"You cocky bastard!"
Then without any further hesitation she pulled the trigger.
|
|
|
Post by Jean Vilain on Sept 14, 2024 17:14:44 GMT -6
Jean's eyes gleamed with dark amusement as he watched Ayanna’s reaction to the apparition of her deceased father. The flicker of anguish and doubt that crossed her face was exactly what he sought. His calm demeanor remained almost serene as he savored the moment, but that one second she used to glance was enough for Vilain. Everything was now in place.
As Ayanna’s finger tightened on the trigger, Jean’s voice cut through the tension with a chilling calm. “Is this truly the path you choose, Ayanna? To act in such a manner? It’s hardly very Christ-like, don’t you think?”
The gunshot rang out, but the bullet passed through swirling shadows that seemed to coil around Jean. In an instant, the oppressive darkness lifted, and Jean’s presence vanished. The light returned, revealing the empty space where he had been.
Jean’s figure materialized behind Ayanna, his movements too swift to follow. His voice, smooth and mocking, quoted a passage from the Bible, “He who is without sin may cast the first stone.” His tone carried a taunting edge. He leaned closer, the coldness in his voice palpable. “Father Paul, you see, is not proud of you. He wonders how you could let him die. How could you let him fall, while you, his only hope, stand here, faltering and lost?”
|
|
|
Post by Ayen on Sept 14, 2024 19:00:19 GMT -6
Ayanna couldn't choke back the tears. Water fell freely down Ayanna's young cheeks as the bullet hit nothing but shadow and the chair that Vilain had once sat in. The brief seconds she took to look at the figure of her deceased adopted father being all the time he needed to avoid the shot. The fact he needed to dodge however gave Ayanna hope that her bullets could inflict damage on the man. If she could only fire on him.
He dared to quote scripture. Dare to use her dead father's name against her. As she spun around and aimed the Beretta once again towards him. Snot entered her nose and she could barely breathe through it as tears blurred her eyes and emotions clouded her better judgment. This may have been a battle she couldn't win, but nevertheless she was going to fight like she always has. Like she always would.
"You don't know him! You don't know anything about him or me!"
Ayanna fired off more shots with the Beretta towards Vilain. Hoping to hit anything. Anything at all.
|
|
|
Post by Jean Vilain on Sept 14, 2024 22:14:25 GMT -6
As Ayanna fired each shot, Jean disappeared into wisps of shadow, vanishing before her bullets could connect. His laughter echoed around her, low and mocking, taunting her with every failed attempt. *BANG!* He vanished again, the bullet sailing through the air and embedding into the wall. "Is this all you've got, Ayanna? For someone who fights demons, you're not very good at facing your own." *BANG!* Another shot, and again, Jean disappeared, only to reappear to her left, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Tell me, does it hurt? Knowing you're the reason your father is dead?" *BANG!* Each taunt stoking the fire inside her, each word slicing deeper, fueling her desperation, firing recklessly in every direction, determined to land just one hit. Jean’s chuckle echoed again. “Will your God let you into his heaven with that tainted blood?” *BANG!* With a final pull of the trigger, Ayanna’s shot found its mark. The bullet struck Jean right between the eyes, and his body collapsed, lifeless, to the floor with a heavy thud. For a moment, the air was still. Had the atom killed the giant with one well placed shot? The cashier, who had been hiding in the back, screamed in horror, “DADDY!” In the time it would take to look at the screaming cashier and back to Vilain's body, the shadows would shift. The lifeless form on the ground was the owner of the pizza joint. His eyes were wide open, blood pooling beneath his head, the same head her bullet had struck moments ago. Jean’s voice broke through the chaos, cool and composed. There he was, sitting calmly in the same chair he had been in before, casually picking at a piece of pizza. Had he even moved at all? Was anything in the last minute real? The only thing that seemed undeniably real was the daughter rushing toward her father’s lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably. Jean took a slow bite of the pizza, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Seems you have a knack for killing fathers, don't you?" He said it with a smirk, his voice dripping with condescension, as if her emotional turmoil was nothing more than a passing entertainment for him.
Jean leaned back in the chair, fingers tapping idly on the table as he watched the scene unfold with cold detachment. His eyes flicked to Ayanna, who stood frozen with the Beretta still gripped tightly in her hand, then to the girl sobbing over her father’s body. He let out a low chuckle, as if he were watching a particularly amusing play.
"If you'd like," Jean said, his voice calm but laced with a sinister undertone, "I could save him." He set the slice of pizza down, brushing his hands together casually, as if he had all the time in the world. "For a price, of course. That’s how these things work, after all. But if you refuse..." He nodded toward the teenager crying over her dead father, her eyes full of desperate hope and grief. "I can always offer it to her in your place. One of you will take the deal—I’m sure of that."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "But tell me, Ayanna... if you refuse, could you even live with yourself? Knowing she could have had her father back, if only you'd said yes?" His eyes gleamed with dark anticipation, savoring the moral dilemma he had just placed before her.
|
|
|
Post by Ayen on Sept 15, 2024 9:18:52 GMT -6
"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!"
Ayanna screamed. She was about ready to draw the Desert Eagle to attempt to do further damage to the man in black, but before she could even draw her second firearm, she saw the bullet rip through Jean's body. Was it finally over? Before Ayanna could answer that question herself, she saw the body disappear and show the body of the store owner instead. The daughter sobbing over the dead corpse of her own father. Ayanna was frozen. In a state of shock and denial.
"Seems you have a knack for killing fathers, don't you?"
"No..."
She didn't mean to do it. In her rage she had forgotten all about the shop owner. All about the people still there at the store. She didn't even think that a missed shot could be fatal to one of them. All she had seen and known was Vilain taunting her. The bastard must've planned this. Used her own anger against her to back her in a corner. Especially with the deal he was now placing in front of her. This was all planned. It was then that Ayanna finally realized just who the hell she was dealing with.
As she watched the girl sob over her father it reminded her of herself. The day the church was on fire. The day Jein delivered the killing blow to Father Paul. Carrying him out of the fire and onto the ground. Trying to revive him. Trying to help him live. But by then he was already dead. The sobs that came out of her eyes that day. The sobs that continued well onward to his funeral. And the anger. She knew all too well what this girl would do to get her father back. Ayanna couldn't let her.
"Do it," she said. Eyes still fixed on the teenager and her dad. "Bring him back."
|
|
|
Post by Jean Vilain on Sept 15, 2024 11:01:35 GMT -6
Jean leaned back, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. “Excellent use of intentions, Ayanna,” he said, his voice low and almost mocking. His fingers snapped with a sharp, echoing sound.
Jean watched with a detached amusement as Ayanna’s shadow began its dark transformation. As it rose from the floor, the shadow’s eerie presence seemed to envelop the room, turning the atmosphere heavy with its unnatural essence. The cold, dark eyes that emerged from within it peered deeply into Ayanna, violating her privacy in the most intimate way possible. The shadow’s gaping void, its mouth of endless blackness, hinted at a depth of darkness that reached far beyond mortal comprehension.
When the shadow pulled a piece of Ayanna’s very essence from her, it was a sensation unlike any physical pain. It was an emotional and spiritual violation, a tearing away of something fundamental to her being. The loss of that fragment of her soul left a profound emptiness, a hollow void that resonated deep within her core.
As the shadow restored the store owner to life, the contrast was stark. The revitalization of the man seemed almost mundane in comparison to the cosmic horror that had just unfolded. The revival of the store owner was a bitter reminder of the cost of her actions and the true price of dealing with beings like Jean. The transaction was complete, and the weight of her choices hung heavily in the air.
Jean rose from his seat, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His hand reached down to grasp the handle of the suitcase the owner had given him earlier. With it in tow, he made his way toward Ayanna, each step sounding heavier than it should, as though the weight of his presence pulled at the very air around them. He stopped just in front of her, his eyes dark and predatory, holding none of the casual charm he’d displayed earlier. “I’ve done something special for you,” he said softly, his voice now low and chillingly casual. There was no triumph in his tone—just the cold certainty of a man in complete control. “I’ve only taken the human part of your soul.”
His eyes never left her, dark and relentless, seeking out every crack in her defenses. He continued, his voice measured, almost amused, “Should you fail me or refuse the tasks I have for you, I won’t drag you to oblivion. No, that would be too easy.”
He stopped just in front of her, towering over her, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
“I’ll take the human part of your soul,” he said, his voice a dark whisper. “And drag it to oblivion. And you, well, you’ll be left with what’s left.”
He crouched slightly, lowering the suitcase, and then dropped it at her feet with a dull thud. His smile was faint, cruel.
“No humanity, no mercy, no restraint. Just the demon inside, with no balance to hold it back. You’ll be no different from Jein—nothing more than a hollow creature of darkness, chasing power and destruction.”
His eyes glinted as he straightened up, stepping back slowly, leaving her with the weight of his offer.
“Of course,” he added, a slight smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, “the choice is yours, Miss Kaktas.”
|
|