"I-I think they show your future," Azazel's quiet voice said from underneath his wings. "I was older in mine, and Saentiel was t-too. They're...They're really, really bad. I don't think you want to see what they're like."
Saentiel nodded in agreement, and hugged Azazel a little tighter as the demon let out another sob. Whatever he had seen had been really bad, and something told him none of his visions could compare to what he had seen. "And I'm not scared of the woods," he indignantly replied. He was, but Aegeas didn't need to know that. "They're just a little spooky--
--A haunted house that was actually haunted. An interesting premise, and a situation that he hadn't yet encountered. It was still too soon for him to say if this was actually the work of a ghost or something else, but he yearned for a hunt - yearned for a fight that would make him feel alive, make him feel like he was doing something instead of chasing after useless lead after leader.
And, he had to admit, this was one of the more fun jobs he had done in awhile. It gave him some nice money to line his pockets; fate knew he needed a stay in a hotel soon. Besides that, he got to dress up and mess around with people during his favorite time of year. What else could a fallen angel turned hunter asked for?
His chose of outfit was a zombie - he loved the gory changes he could make to his appearance, all under the guise of it being especially realistic make up. A little decaying skin here, a missing body part or two there, and a fraying clothes, and he was perfectly playing the part. He could even perfectly imitate the groan.
As he leaned up against one of the fake gravestones and watched his temporary coworkers enter the place, he noticed two people who didn't quite fit in with the rest: a girl and a man. The girl was bordering on adulthood, somewhere in her late teens. Her age was what drew his attention, but it was her proximity to the strange man behind her that made him take note. The man was dressed with a collared shirt and dress pants in the middle of a haunted house, compared to the girl's jeans and t-shirt.
He frowned.
They were talking with the owner of the building, and it was then that he knew he was screwed: they were hunters, and were likely here for the same thing he was. And now, of course, he had pointed them in the direction of the person who had been here the longest - him. He let out a long groan, functioning as both a way to relieve his frustrations and to stay in character. He had a show to put on - around them, he'd be Gabriel Eberhardt, a completely normal human with a fondness for working at haunted houses.
"Hello," he said, throwing in a casual wave with a badly decayed hand.
"Hello," the man replied. He gave him a smile, but something about the smile didn't look right. He didn't like it in the slightest. "My name is Issac, and this is Quinn."
Quinn gave a little wave. She was studying him, too, likely trying to determine if he was the one responsible for all the deaths.
"I'm Gabriel, but I'm guessing he already told you that." He gave a nod in the direction of the owner. "So, you two here to join in on the festivities?"
He kept his tone light and cheerful, trying not to raise anymore suspicion than he might have already.
Quinn shook her head. "We're actually here to figure out why there's so many people dying," she said. He hated how casually she could say something like that; hunters really were a strange, detestable breed of people.
He raised an eyebrow and decided to play the dumb card. "Are you police or something?"
"We're..." Quinn hesitated, looking over at Issac.
"We're investigators," he concluded, studying him with blue eyes that felt just as wrong as his smile. "The owner asked to look into this place - we have a mutual friend."
Quinn gave him a warm smile. "We might end up helping out, too - it depends on how much we can figure out on our own."
"Well," he said, the lie easily slipping off of his tongue, "I hope that you join in. There's just something so entertaining about watching people's terror."
He gave them a wave, then wandered off to another part of the graveyard. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but he despised hunters with a passion - he wanted to get a dig in when he could--
--Saentiel stared down at Azazel again, his grip loosening ever so slightly. He became a hunter when he grew up? Why would he ever want to hunt other supernatural beings? Despite himself, he started to tremble. It made him feel really, really scared to think that there was a demon who would help out humans that wanted to kill things that were different.
(He was too scared by his new knowledge to think about how he must have been one too, and how they eventually seemed to befriend each other.)
xXx
Azazel felt Saentiel's grip loosen, and hesitantly peeked his head up. It must have been another vision, but the vision couldn't have been too bad - he wasn't crying. But then he saw the look that Saentiel was giving him, and it made his blood run cold. A sob caught in his throat; Saentiel was looking at him just like some of the humans did when he said what he was. But Saentiel knew he was a demon, and hadn't minded earlier. So why was he suddenly caring now--
--He studied Gabriel Eberhardt as they approached - studied the way that he leaned oh-so-casually up against the fake gravestone, how he watched them with far too much interest for just a haunted house employee, and how his costume was just a little too realistic for a regular human. By the time he and Quinn reached Gabriel's side, he already had him pegged. It wasn't hard, really, seeing that he was looking one of his kin.
"Hello," Gabriel said with a wave.
"Hello," he replied. He gave him a smile, but there was only so much that this robotic body could accomplish. The demon shifted ever so slightly; Gabriel didn't like it. Maybe that was a bonus, or maybe it wasn't. He could never quite tell these days. "My name is Issac, and this is Quinn."
Quinn waved, studying Gabriel just like he had taught her.
"I'm Gabriel, but I'm guessing he already told you that." Gabriel gave a nod in the direction of the owner. "So, you two here to join in the festivities?"
His tone was light and cheerful, but he had already seen past Gabriel's facade. He knew exactly why they were there, and he was treading carefully because of it. But that was alright - they could investigate more about him later, once they finished this conversation.
Quinn shook her head. "We're actually here to figure out why there's so many people dying," she said. He was grateful that was she was there; she just had a way of talking that made things sound far less morbid than they actually were.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Are you police or something?"
"We're..." Quinn hesitated, looking over at him.
"We're investigators," he concluded for her. It wasn't entirely wrong, and there was no need to pretend that Gabriel had figured out why they were there the moment they arrived. Let him think they were hunters. It wasn't entirely correct, and he wasn't exactly one for punishments, but it just felt right having someone who was likely responsible for a dozen murders feel a little bit of fear for once. "The owner asked to look into this place - we have a mutual friend."
Quinn gave Gabriel a warm smile - he didn't know how she could do it. "We might end up helping out, too - it depends on how much we can figure out on our own."
"Well," Gabriel said, "I hope that you join in. There's just something so entertaining about watching people's terror."
He gave them a wave, then wandered off to another part of the graveyard. He waited until Gabriel was a good distance away before turning back to Quinn. "I think we might have found our killer."
"What do you think he is?" Quinn quietly asked, watching as Gabriel began to chat with a young woman that was also dressed as a zombie. "Some kind of shapeshifter, right? His costume was too realistic for someone working at a haunted house."
He gave her a small smile. "Good observation. If I'm correct, he was a demon. And, from the way he was acting around us, I think he might have figured out our occupation, even though he's ever so slightly off."
Quinn returned his smile with a grin. "I guess it's time to do some investigating!"
"Of course," he replied, and the two went to talk with a nearby worker--
--Azazel's hands shot up to cover his mouth, his scream now muffled as he tried to stumble back away from Saentiel. It didn't make any sense! Saentiel was so nice, and he thought he liked him in the future! That was why he felt so good around him, and why he was so eager to stay near him. But Gabriel and Saentiel were the same person, and Gabriel had killed a dozen people.
"M-Monster," he stammered, staring at Saentiel with wide eyes.
Saentiel stared at him too, but his face was unreadable. And, though it terrified him to realize it, he couldn't see Saentiel anymore in the look he gave - all Azazel could see was Gabriel, with that same, cold glint to his eyes.
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