Fallen

This is a fic I wrote for the birthday of my friend :) Of course, I own nothing aside the plot and AU ideas. Enjoy!

  *-._.-*  

From the Sky...

A burst of light. A push on his shoulders. A cone of red energy. He stumbled off the cloud. Void took hold of his consciousness. He fell.

*-._.-*

"That makes me the only available one, yoi."

"Right, investigate and find its location. Don't engage, of course, we'll have three teams on the ready in about a week."

Marco simply nodded, already thinking about the list of things to do. He tuned out the rest of the meeting, he was not interested in squabbles among the Witches as he was in taking a shower. He still stank and was covered in mud because of that pup Werewolf gone berserk. Winter was a harsh period for the race, food was harder to come by and pups were still left on their own by the parents. Marco would not even define them as mammals. Lions had more morals about teaching how to survive. True, Werewolves were born with innate instincts, but that attitude was beastly from any point of view.

The meeting ended, finally, so Marco waved at his colleagues and at his Boss before wearing his coat and started walking home. Headquarters were a little away from his flat, reason why he had bought it in the first place. There was a low layer of snow covering the streets and ice had started to form because of several feet passing by. He puffed some warm air in his hands before brushing them against each other and walking slowly, careful of not slipping. It was not snowing, but the absence of stars and of the moon in the pitch-black sky made him understand it was cloudy, probably bursting with water freezing into snowflakes. His scars itched and hurt, sending flashes of pain on his skin, as they did on that kind of weather. He shrugged and flexed his arms over his head with a light groan. Maybe he needed some relaxing moments. Not really the time, though.

Brushing a hand on his gun holster, hidden under his jacket, he fastened his pace to go in the warmth of his home. It was nothing too fancy, just an apartment with a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom and a little living room, modern style... He would have preferred wooden furniture, because modern ones were just... cold... But beggars can't be choosers, se he had shrugged off that desire almost immediately, seeing that area of the city was modern in every damn corner. He hated technologies. Like, take the phone devices, why would he want to shut out everything just to play or to chat? Ok, it was useful sometimes, like for work, but then what? It was much more beautiful to live the moment, why the haste to film it? To share it? He could understand the desire to share it with dear ones, but... the whole world? Because one was hungry for attention? To be mentioned on the news? To reach a certain number of 'likes'? He honestly, truthfully couldn't understand that. See the snow fall without filters, see the snow flow through the camera of a phone, it's entirely different... But, hey, at each his own. No use causing himself an ulcer because Humans were that way.

Back to thinking about his mission, that was a bit more relaxing – Demons were more relaxing than Humanity, that was his tiredness' level. During the last week, there had been reports of criminality's stats spiking in a certain zone of the city. Nothing strange, if said area had not been spreading like an oil stain. When something like that happened, based on the Hunters' undisputable experience – for centuries they had taken care of supernatural beings not following the simple rules their ancestors had created for a peaceful coexistence –, a new Demon was on the loose. Usually, they were sent by the King of Hell himself to recruit new pawns or to make contracts with desperate Humans, that lost their Souls. These were then sent to Hell as food for the Demons or the Seven Deadly Sins. Considering the width of the area and the speed at which it was spreading, the Hunters had the sinking suspicion Satan had sent one of the Seven.