Demonic // phan

Epilogue

Four Months Later

Phil stared out of the window of the moving van, watching as the rain outside hit the window before sliding down the misty glass. It wasn't pouring, but it was enough for him to not even want to get out of the vehicle.

He tuned out as the car stopped and the other people surrounding him, hunters, began grabbing weapons and other supplies before climbing out into the middle of the empty parking lot they had arrived. He was always the last one of them out, and the first one to get back in. He was just very wary of their intentions, worried they would figure him out too easily.

"You sure this is where they're hiding, yeah?" Chris said, standing next to him and staring up at the desolate building looming ahead of them. It was probably the sixth time Phil had brought them out of whatever hideaway they were residing in, claiming he had a lead in where the demons were. And so far, they had all been dead ends.

Phil nodded slowly, twisting the foot long blade in his hands idly. After a month and a half of trying to train him with a gun, the rest of the group had decided it just wasn't his forte, and armed him with an almost sword-like blade so he wouldn't drag them down during hunts. He honestly felt more comfortable with it than a gun.

After another moment of just staring, and mentally preparing themselves, Chris shouted for them all to go ahead inside, and Phil drifted towards the back of the group as they filed into the building.

It was dark and cold, and they all visibly shivered as they made their way further inside. A few of the hunters broke away from the larger group and went to check the other rooms in the first floor. Phil had never thought it was a goo idea to split up like that, too many accidents could occur that way. The rest of the continued up to the second floor.

Phil kind of hated these kinds of hunts. Not knowing what they could be walking into, unprepared and definitely not fully trained. It made his heart race in the most nauseating way, and once, he had vomited from the pressure building inside his chest. Which was by he tended to stay in the back of all the action.

But the building was empty, and after the whole group had been accounted for, they all piled back into the van and headed back to the derelict house they had dubbed 'headquarters'.

"I swear, Phil," Chris muttered from beside him. "Sometimes I think you're just giving us fake information about this. It's been a month, and we have nothing, no leads and no chance of finding them."

Phil sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Look, I'm just telling you everything I know. It's not my fault the info isn't solid."

He scrolled through his messages aimlessly, angling the screen away from any unsuspecting eyes.

Phil: we're good, where are you now?

He quickly deleted the message and waited anxiously for a reply. The phone vibrated in his hand a second later, and he unlocked it hastily.

Unknown: just south of Brighton.

He sighed in relief; they were heading in the complete opposite direction, so everything was going fine. He deleted the whole conversation, stuffing the phone back in his pocket and making sure nobody else was watching him. This was the only chance he had to do something good.