HellBound

Chapter 1: A Man, A Horrible Plan, and A Demon

Brandon opened the door of his apartment. Another dead end. I know it's out there. It has to be . Brandon thought as he dragged himself into the apartment. The one bedroom, one bath apartment was dusty, dirty, and dingy, with sheets covering every piece of furniture in the small main room. Shrugging off his coat and taking off his boots, Brandon checked to see if the heat was on, then went to the kitchen to sit down at the table. Rubbing his forehead with the fingers of his right hand, Brandon sighed in defeat as a reminder popped up on his phone about his deadline, Check in is in two days. He lifted his hand and looked at the clock on the wall. He was running out of time, money, and patience. "It is out there." he said to himself before looking at the clock again, noticing that it was a lot later than he realized. Brandon got up from the chair and exited the kitchen, heading straight to his bedroom where he fell right on top of the queen sized bed. Turning his head to the right, he saw the picture of his late wife, the same picture that had kept him going for the last two years. "Hey honey. Today was another long one, so I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night. I love you." Brandon said to the picture as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Brandon woke up to a call on his cell phone. He growled as he sat up, his hand fishing for the phone in his pocket. When Brandon saw the caller id, he had to force himself to answer it. "Hello?" Brandon said, irritated. "Meet me at the coffee shop in twenty minutes. I have a new lead." the caller said and then hung up. "Ugggh." Brandon groaned as he flopped back onto the bed. Exhausted from yesterday, Brandon didn't even bother to change as he got up from the bed, applied deodorant so that he at least smelled a bit decent, and then went out of the bedroom to put on his boots and coat. If this ends up being another waste of time, I will strangle the life out of that man. Brandon thought as he made sure his keys were in his pocket before he left the apartment. Walking out the door, he didn't know that when he came back his life would be changed in many ways.

"This better be fucking good. Yesterday I spent half an hour chasing a god-damn chicken for half-an-hour in the middle of the god damned boonies before it turned out it was a bust. That's six hours worth of gas you owe me, round trip." Brandon growled as he sat across from his friend. "Oh, quit your bitchin and drink your coffee. My god you're worse than Mother some days, you know that." the man said as he slid a cup towards Brandon. Brandon took it from him and took a sip, relaxing as the caffeine entered his system. "So, you got something for me Maxy, or did I come here for nothing?" Brandon asked. "Well, I wouldn't call it nothing. But, so far it is the most promising." Max said as he leaned back in his seat, which creaked under the larger man's weight. "Yeah, and that's what you said when we went to Seattle. Or don't you remember that fun little trip." Brandon said, interlocking his hands as he put his forearms on the table. "Ugh. Don't remind me. Never again will I let a Goth groupie get me like that. What a wash." Max said as he looked down to reach into his bag. He pulled out his laptop and opened it up, showing Brandon a chat log. "Look, read this over, I'm gonna take a leak." Max said as he got up and headed towards the bathroom. Brandon pulled the laptop closer and began to read Max's chat with someone called theOccultistMerchant.

So, rumor on the shady side says that you're the person to talk to about certain objects. That true?

Define objects

You know...magicka, mystical objects, rituals.

Maybe I am, but I only deal with true believers.

May the Seven Stars guide you.

What exactly are you looking for, young traveler?

A ritual for resurrection.

So, are you trying to commune with the spirits or are you actually trying necromancy?

No, full resurrection. Like body and mind. I'm willing to pay.