[center][url=http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs45/f/2009/095/b/2/Dark_Alley_by_Hideyoshi.jpg]Location: An undisclosed alleyway in Kenan[/url][/center]

Why in the hell did Wiendyns like cold, wet and damp places to hide in? Emmet thought bitterly.

His eyes panned the alleyway’s small confines as the walls seemed to lock the dampness, musky smells, and heavy fog within its crude shelter. Painted graffiti signs and ill kept dumpsters added their own décor to the already slummy scene, an unsightly truth far alien to the Kenan’s claim of the bright lights and mystic feel. He stepped just two feet in, each one echoed off the surrounding where he couldn’t tell if it was night or day. Seeing no sight of his target, Emmet’s head twisted over his shoulder to spot his escort and unwanted babysitter close behind. The demon, Juan, had a lite cigarette between his lips with a halcyon expression before he immediately halted upon feeling Emmet’s eyes. He inhaled a few more times than pinched the smoke between his fingers and removed it, letting a long wisp of smoke evaporate into the air. Juan’s face became pleased before he flashed Emmet a sexy smile. 

[b]“He’s here alright, handsome. So keep your guard up.”[/b] The dark skinned demon answered, and then added in a more playful tone. [b]“I’m hurt you would doubt me after all we’ve been through.”[/b]

Emmet frowned at the last comment. His jawline tightened for a few seconds, his mind debating on whether to answer or just glare. It didn’t take long for him to give into the earlier and his reply became a retort. [b]“Get over yourself, Juan. You’re not my type so cut the fucking flirting.”[/b] 

Juan was unfazed by Emmet’s rude words. He just merely shrugged, out a few soft chuckles and took his position. Emmet’s eyes watched the demon leaned against the entrance’s side, still leisurely taking draughts from his cigarette and gestured in a wave of his hand to begin. He would be nothing more than a smoking spectator for the fight to come. They both knew this, at least until he was needed. Upon seeing the demon fall into his old habit, Emmet’s eyes rolled and his attention turned back to his original job. His hand reached into his over jacket for the pistol at his hip side. Once he felt the hard, familiar handle touch his fingers, Emmet pulled it free and clasped his other hand over the first. Pointing it downward at an angle, he cautiously moved forward. He ignored the mist clinging at his skin and clothes, the moisture made them feel heavier then they should’ve been, his ears strained for any sloppiness on his target’s part. It was quiet. Too quiet for his tastes that Emmet could hear his own heart thrummed inside his ears, his focus filled with the rapid pace and fear created adrenaline started to rush through him. The energy fed his movements towards the other end but did little to assure his chances to survive. 

Where the hell was he? The question keep pounding over and over inside his mind, yet there was only a blank answer. Not the type he liked. 

Bang, crash! 

His gun raised and jerked to his side, his eyes met the flash of bright yellow ones. All that was there was a sudden black blur as a cat darted across his path and vanished into the foggy distance. Just a damn cat… Emmet mentally spat while he felt relief wash over him, his weapon lowered in his relaxation. A mistake he would soon regret. 

There was no warning. 

One moment he was trying to settle his breathing then the next, he felt something heavy plow into him head on. Immediately the wind was knocked from his lungs upon landing flat on his back. His gun hand slammed the concrete and the impact knocked the gun away, the weapon sent skirting out of range. Emmet jerked his head to what hit him, his nose assaulted by the heavy, musky scene of wet dog. He coughed a bit and stared into the [url= http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/203/e/6/snarly_werewolf_design_by_kyoht-d5882wd.jpg] Wiendyn’s [/url] pure white eyes, the creature’s black lips pulled back to expose the glistening teeth. Emmet’s first instinct rose to the surface and he began to struggle under the hand like paws pining him to the ground. The wetness (and only God knew what else) seeped into his over jacket, dampening the white dress shirt underneath, while his hand painfully slowly edged for his knife. The secondary weapon was at his side, difficult to get to when his shoulder was weighed down. 

Come on…[i]come on[/i], Emmet inwardly pleaded. His eyes flashed with fear upon seeing the beast’s head rear back, preparing to rip out his throat. Then devour him in the most bloodied way. His fingers tried to hasten their reach and his desperate drove him onwards, but felt fruitless in his effort. It won’t end this, he couldn’t let it. 

The moment his fingers grasped the knife’s edge was when the Wiendyn howled its victory. Two things happened at once. Fangs hurtle for his throat and the glint from his knife once pulled from his pocket. 

A sharp yelp as the sliver blade pierced into the wolf’s arm. It sank through fur and muscle causing the beast to leap away, its form sank back into the fog. Too close, he couldn’t stop the phrase from entering into his skull. A sinking feeling seemed to wrap about his heart while he felt the cold air once again enter his lungs. It hurt, overpowered his sore back and seemed to be an endless, dull throbbing. That’s when his ears caught a dreadful sound. A noise, despite its innocence, had filled Emmet with both panic and anger. It was the soft, brief clink of his dagger being tossed away. 

[b]“You’ve got to be kidding me!”[/b] Emmet’s irritated voice blurted out.

He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping twice, just to end up facing the attack. Naturally it wasn’t a surprise to fall short. He was only human and unlike the Wiendyn, whose superior strength and speed was enhance thanks to the demon essence, couldn’t compete in the same weight class even through sheer will. It was a rotten disadvantage in Emmet’s opinion. Namely one he had to work around time and time again. A furry backhand sent him flying. Emmet’s legs left the ground, backwards into the rusty dumpster and denting it. The rustic sound vibrated off the alleyway but he only heard the soft, fleshy pop, his hand rushed to clasp his shoulder. His face twisted up in pain when he realized the socket felt wrong. It was dislocated and hung there, an ache exploded where he touched. A series of curses poured from his lips and spilled out into the air taking a single breath that soon became heavy gasps. He had landed wrong upon his arm. He knew this because it was going to be useless for a bit, in addition his ribs were bruised. That was over looked by the shoulder’s intense one yet flooded in soon after it died. Emmet only had enough time to prop himself up when the beast rushed him again. 

The Wiendyn, driven by instinct, launched its teeth to his throat. It was far too fast for Emmet to raise an attack to counter and his eyes watched the teeth lower to where his neck and shoulder connected. The teeth sank in. 

Eyes widen with shock as instead of the soft flesh, its teeth had seemed to hit stone. Emmet gave a wicked smirk. His hand was placed against the ground but his appearance hadn’t changed, his skin still looked normal albeit harder. He had the surprise advantage and aimed to use it to its fullest. The beast‘s mouth tightened its hold, sought to push past his hardened skin and to the tendon beneath, his skin’s texture seemed unpleasant for it to swallow. It was just enough time for Emmet to return the favor. 

His hand fisted and fingers tight into a hard ball. Without a flinch, he put all the force he could muster behind and swung. It connected at the Wiendyn’s snout, the teeth forced loose with a yelp and a loud rip, sending it backwards. It shook its head, little dazed by the fist’s toughness. As it was clearing the stars, soft and frustrated growl were heard, its bleeding jaws left droplets behind. The eyes turned up to face Emmet. He could see the fury from the ears pinned back and bristled fur to the wide open eyes, all made it very clear it was very, [i]very[/i] pissed. 

[b]“Why hell did you chose today, of all damn days, to have your time of the month?”[/b] Emmet asked referring to the monthly change every Wiendyn went through and not the mythical bullshit of a full moon. In seconds, his Terra Skin melted away leaving a dark bruise where the beast had bitten but his vision focused on the large rips in his over jacket. Darius was going to be furious causing Emmet to sigh, his head filled with the mental image from the discussion to come. He didn’t dwell on it long. 

How his mind always managed to have focused was a mystery to him. His ability to push past the agony racing through him, the numbness his arm had started to feel or the instinctive fear embedded in his being, Emmet wasn’t sure where it came from. Merely that he could. This wasn’t the first time or would be the last, his encounters usually ended up much worse. Maybe it was the need to survive. Could’ve been he acknowledged his terror, yet controlled it. He wasn’t certain as there seemed to be endless answers. One thing he knew, he didn’t want to die here and leave his sister alone. Emmet’s hand poured his essence into the ground. A chuck of stone shot up from the ground, the height the same as his foe, then it started to mold and shift like some invisible artist was chiseling away the unneeded. At last, the puppet’s skin softened into fur so real looking, Emmet sometimes forgot the thing was made completely from earth. By the time the wolf had cleared away the daze, there stood a stone replica of itself snarling back. The original clashed with the copy, the titans lashed out in a physical combat just several feet away. 

Emmet pushed off the dumpster, the Wiendyn distracted, back to his feet. Emmet knew what he had to do, something he hated but had little choice about. Not unless he liked the idea of being a wolf snack that is. He edged closer to a wall, his good arm braced against it and his shoulder turned to face it. He prepared with a few test swings, readying himself for what was to come. Finally Emmet thrust his dislocation forward, impacting the wall. A loud crack and his scream filled the alley. His body felt close to buckling there, supported by the hard brick, his head absorbed the chill where his forehead pressed against it. Lungs seemed to be nothing more than useless sack weighing in his chest, completely empty. 

Juan’s voice broke his misery. [b]“I’m going to have to kiss that and make it better, won’t I?”[/b]

Emmet’s glare darkened and shot in the demon’s direction, if looks could kill then Juan would’ve hit the grave in seconds. [b]“Just shut up…I don’t need your perverted peanut gallery!”[/b] 

[b]“Considered you’ve been knocked on your cute ass about twice now, it’s not hurting your game.”[/b] Juan said, bluntly ignoring Emmet’s last comments. The demon smirked and continued, his next comment increasing the burning hate and irritation Emmet felt. [b]“Keep in mind, if this doesn’t work out… the left side of my bed is always open. I’m sure you’re a better love then a fighter.”[/b]

[b]“For the last time, you are NOT my type!!!!”[/b] Emmet shouted, emphasizing the not, his face fixed in a scowl. His shoulder rotated, testing the tendons, despite the flaming needles running up and down his side with the movement. Once more assured it was in fitting order, at least mobile. [b]“So go fu-[/b]

His words were cut short when his ears caught the crumbled sound of the Wiendyn beheaded the puppet. With a single swipe, its claws tore easily through the neck and sent it to shatter into the side wall. Its eyes turned upon him next, its body lowered to all fours and charged. Emmet’s palms flicked upwards causing a wall to shoot up between them and keeping the beast from ripping his throat out. He smiled when he heard a loud thump sounded when it hit the barrier. His head turned back to finish his retort only to die when something white dripped onto his upraised sleeve. Emmet’s head shifted skyward and stared into the beast’s eyes, the teeth revealed through its black lips, from a crouching position high on the wall’s top. It would take too long to drop it and even longer to create something else. Emmet stood there, frozen, his eyes closed when the animal leapt. He knew he would shortly feel the pain of the wolf’s teeth ripping him to pieces and his life leak from his dead, broken body. 

BANG, BANG! 

Two shots, both instant and deadly, rang inside his mind. Then he was shoved to the ground by the Wiendyn. He braced, expected to feel the maw render into his skin, breaking it apart, letting the blood flood across his skin. The claws to dig into his clothes and underbelly, buried into the innards underneath. To gorge itself on human flesh until Emmet stopped struggling and it left him for dead. That idea, notion terrified him beyond anything, the fact worsen now that he believed it was happening. 

Nothing…something Emmet noted when his fear died. A moment later, his courage spurred by the lacking clawing and biting, a single eye slowly opened. He started into the Wiendyn’s dead eye stare. A crimson line streaked across its furred forehead where a single, large hole had entered. Its figure was just dead weight now which pinned the man down into the dank wetness and murk within the alley’s environment. Thank God… Emmet let out a gasp. His hands shook even when his arms pushed it off and crawled out from under. Still on his back, his head turned behind him to see his own smoking gun held in the hands he least expected: Juan. The demon stepped calmed over to Emmet, bent at the waist and finished casting the corpse to the side. When he passed the gun, handle first, Emmet took it easily then holstered it. 

[b]“When I wanted to see you on your back, this wasn’t the way I had envisioned it.”[/b] Juan joked, his cigarette finished and tossed away before he offered a helping hand out. [b]“Come on, you’ve got one more ‘surprise’ from Darius waiting at the Rabid Dog. Then you don’t want to keep Olivia waiting for you, do ya?”[/b] 

Emmet sighed and took the help. He winched with the movement, his arm wrapped about his side and added to his already sour mood. He clearly didn’t find Juan’s humor funny. [b]“Fine, would you mind getting my knife?”[/b]

As if he already read Emmet’s mind, Juan already produced the weapon and handed it back. The man snatched it, pocketing it, and then started to limp out of the alleyway. He could sense Juan shaking his head behind him and follow towards the Rabid Dog. They both knew they could use a drink. Emmet feverishly hoped they had something very strong at the bar because he needed it, badly.