Drifter- Aimless Wanderer Read online

  The life he would return to wasn’t worth living, so he swallowed his fears, marched up to the man in the white coat and unloaded a tirade of questions onto him.

  “Wait! Who the hell are you!? What are you!? What’s with the sword!? What’s with the coat!? What did you do to J!? Was that magic or a trick!? Are you human or demon!? Do you have demon powers!? Where’d you get them!? Can I get them!?”

  Irritated by the sudden torrent of questions, the man eloquently responded.

  “Go be a faggot somewhere else!”

  D was shocked and appalled.

  “How dare you…. I’m not a kid! Stop being an arsehole and answer my questions!”

  “How about you fuck off, before you end up like your friend!”

  “He wasn’t my friend. He was just some cunt using me to make some easy money.”

  “For fuck’s sake…”

  The man grew tired of talking and pointed his finger, with a white speck shining on the tip.

  D froze in fear. He wasn’t used to the people he threatened actually fighting back, especially with powers he didn’t understand.

  Luckily, before the man could take his shot, the quakes from earlier grew more violent as loud demonic laughter echoed from across the street. The man turned his attention in the direction of the roars of mocking cackles to find a large demon slowly trudging down the road.

  It was slightly taller than the two storey houses it passed by. A quadruped, centaur like creature with a lion’s head and the lower body of a goat. The creature looked as if it’s entire being was made of stone, yet it walked with no restraints to it’s movements.

  A row of police cars and officers all waited for it at the end of the street, at the intersection where D and the man in the white coat stood.

  Despite their destructive tendencies and complete lack of empathy towards humans, the demon didn’t seem interested in causing any sort of mayhem just yet and was instead, amused by the feeble human resistance, continuing onward without a care.

  While D couldn’t figure out what the demon was after, he noticed the man in the white coat was staring it down, like a boxer glaring at his opponent from the other side of the ring, ready for a fight.

  The officers all gathered behind the cover of their vehicles. They had trained for demon attacks, but even so, demons of this size were rare and their chances of survival, should they choose to engage it, were slim.

  All they could hope to do was buy time and wait for reinforcements to arrive while the citizens were evacuated.

  Even with their training and resolve, that still didn’t stop them from shaking over the sight of the towering monster looming over them. It smiled gleefully at the tiny humans and their pathetic weapons.

  With one mighty swing of its stone arms, it ripped the road asunder. Tearing through the gravel with large fissures that reshaped the pavement with a powerful earthquake.

  The men clinged onto their vehicles for dear life, as the earth rose from beneath them. Since they weren’t directly attacked, they managed to survive, but it was obvious from the effortless and smug grin on the monster’s face that they were dealing with one of the most powerful demons ever recorded in the force's history.

  Most demons were around human to slightly above human size. Six to seven feet tall, on average. While demons were still extremely dangerous, displayed supernatural powers and strong resilience to most weapons. With enough bullets and coordination they could eventually be brought down.

  The officers pulled out their guns and opened fire. From pistols to automatic rifles, all were rendered useless before the monster’s stone plated body, as it slowly drew closer.

  The men weren’t through yet, they still had one last backup. A trump card for particularly troublesome demons. It was risky and slightly over-the-top, but with the unpredictability of demons, they couldn’t take any chances.

  Opening up the boot of the police cars, the officers armed themselves with military standard NLAW rocket launchers. The men all ducked for cover as the others fired their rockets, hoping to blow the demon straight back to hell before it had a chance to attack again.

  The demon was engulfed in a burst of fire and smoke as the rest of the men cowered behind their cars. As the vibrations of the blasts died down, two officers discussed who was going to check on the status of the demon.

  “O-okay, rookie. You know the drill…” The brown haired officer ordered.

  “I don’t remember giant fucking titans being part of the drill, Michael!” The ginger haired rookie replied.

  “Richard, you whiny wanker, just look already, that’s an order!”

  “Oh, fuck me….”

  The young rookie slowly pulled himself up and looked over the rim of the car. As the smoke cleared, Richard’s worst fears were realised. The monster was still standing. The rockets had only left mildly irritating cracks on the demon’s armour. All they accomplished was pissing the creature off.

  “N-no… what the fuck… we can’t fight this… this is insane…”

  The rookie’s body had gone completely numb from shock. He was staring death in the face, having already surrendered to his fate. The only thing that snapped him out of his trance was the sudden appearance of a man in a white coat landing on the rim of his car, seemingly out of nowhere.

  D was so distracted by the impressive display of explosions that he didn’t even notice the man make a move, even though he was standing right next to him the entire time.

  As the man and the monster locked sights onto each other, there was a silence. An anticipation that something big was about to go down. The rookie didn’t quite understand what was going on, but his senior officer, Michael, pulled him back down and signalled him to be quiet.

  “So.” The man in the white coat spoke. “You must be the Big Bastard.”

  “I can sense it…” The demon replied with his deep, echoing voice. “The power I’ve been searching for has finally shown itself…”

  As soon as the topic of searching for power came into the conversation, the man immediately lost interest.

  “It's always the same story with you cunts...”

  He pulled his sword from his scabbard, pointing it at the demon.

  “...and it’ll have the same ending.”

  “You’re rather confident, human, but there’s no way, in the vastest, wastelands of hell, your kind will ever be able to defeat me. Compared to the usual trash who venture to this world, I'm practically an elite.”

  “Same old shit, as usual...”

  The man twisted the sword around, resting the blade over his shoulder, tucked in the tear of his coat.

  “Before I claim your powers as my own, allow me to test them first.”

  The demon drew back its arm and thrusted his fist forward with the same might that had split the ground apart. All the men could do was watch in amazement, not at the monster’s fearsome strike, but at the unbelievable sight that followed.

  The man in the white coat faintly glowed and simply lifted his right foot. With that one simple motion, he blocked the monster’s fist, dead in its tracks. The officers could feel the force of the punch and yet, the man didn’t even budge.

  “Impossible… how can a human draw out this much power?” The big bastard questioned.

  “I get that a lot.” The man replied, as he barely exerted any effort in booting the demon’s fist out of his face.

  The man suddenly leapt into the air at an incredible height, flying over the demon’s head and landing on its back. The monster turned to face the man, who looked back with disinterest.

  “Foolish human…” The monster taunted. “If you thought my back was some kind of blindspot, then you are sorely mistaken.”

  Opening his mouth, the monster gathered a large amount of energy, breathing deadly flames onto his victim. Unfortunately, the man simply leapt away the moment the flames erupted from its mouth.

  “Trying to use my own flames to wear down my armour? How sad. The desperate tactic
s of a weak creature with no dignity. Unable to fight using their own power. Now, where did you go? You can’t hide from me, I can sense your presence.”

  “Well, you’ve got a nice view at least…” The man sighed, standing atop the demon’s head.

  “You dare mock me?”

  “Please, your whole race is already a joke.”

  “Get off me, you filthy human!”

  Before the demon had a chance to reach for him, the man glowed white and kicked himself off the monster’s head, chipping a piece of his rock solid skull, infuriating it even further.

  The man landed on the other side of the street, behind the demon, forcing it to turn and face him.

  “Now where did you-”

  The big bastard suddenly froze in place, overcome with panic by the man’s sudden change in posture. The man positioned his sword behind himself as his body glowed with a white hot aura, his eyes focused like a professional hitman. The games were over, the next attack was designed to kill.

  The man turned into a white streak that blazed across the street in seconds, leaving the helpless demon no time to defend himself. There was a sudden horrible crunch, partnered with a slash, as the man appeared just behind the demon, in front of the officers.

  As the man in the white coat rose from his position and sheathed his sword, the monster’s torso slowly slid off of it’s waist as it cried in agony, revealing the flesh and bone underneath the stone armour.

  It’s body sprayed blood over the pavement, as the life slowly drained from its eyes. The man ignored the monster’s plight. The creature wasn't even worth a mercy killing, leaving it to bleed to death in the middle of the ruined street.

  The demon’s wails turned to choked whimpers until eventually, the bleeding came to a trickle and there was silence. Richard looked on in disbelief, almost pitying the monster that had just terrorised him.

  As a rookie, he had only heard rumours, stories from witnesses and from his fellow men on the force, but there was never any solid evidence to confirm his presence, nor were they allowed to formally investigate him, and yet, there he was. The legendary demon slayer, the man in the white coat, he actually existed and his power was brutal.

  “Who...?” Was all Richard could mutter to himself, as the man had already disappeared from the scene.

  D, on the other hand, was quick to notice the man in the white coat walking away, down the street. At first he was simply curious, but now he was invested. He had to know who this man was and what his powers were, before he vanished again.

  He quickly caught up with him, this time keeping his questions brief.

  “What the actual fuck happened back there!?” D asked.

  “Go away.” The man replied, still with his back turned.

  “There’s no fucking way you killed that fucking demon with that fucking sword alone. Those guys had goddamn rocket launchers and they barely dented that armour! What the fuck did you do!?”

  “Piss off.”

  “What was with that white glow? I’ve never seen anything like it. Are you sure you’re not a demon?”

  The man suddenly turned around, grabbing D by the collar and hoisting him up with a single arm.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself, you dumb cunt!”

  D was shaken, but kept his resolve.

  “What are you going to do, kill me?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do it. I’m just street trash anyway. No one will notice I’m gone. I won’t be missed. So, do it. Kill me.”

  The man gave D a disgusted look, dropped him and left.

  “You didn’t kill me?” D called, before catching up to the man again. “I don’t get it, are you human or demon?”

  “Listen, stupid. I’m not going to kill a person in cold blood in the middle of the street.”

  “So, the man in the white coat has morals.”

  “Will you stop using that retarded name.”

  “Then what should I call you?”

  “Drifter.”

  “Yeah, that’s not retarded, at all.”

  “What the hell do you want from me?”

  “I want to know who you are!”

  “I’m not telling you shit.”

  “That’s fine, I’ll just follow you.”

  Drifter suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Look, I don’t like company, especially stubborn little fuckboys like you. If want to follow me around like a mentally challenged puppy, then fine, but I am under no obligation to take care of you.

  Don’t expect me to slow down for you, or save your dumb arse. If you die, it’s none of my concern. That’s your only warning.”

  “Wait, you’re really just going to let me follow you?”

  “You’ll give up eventually, or die trying. The problem sorts itself out either way.”

  “Fine with me, but my name’s not kid. It’s Dale.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “Well, are you at least gonna explain where you’re going?”

  “No.”

  Chapter 2: Powerless

  ✽✽✽

  “Hey, uh… Drifter. I know you don’t like the whole talking thing, but do you have, like, an actual destination in mind?” Dale asked, as the pair strolled through Marble Hill park in the late afternoon.

  It had only been a couple of hours since the incident with the Big Bastard and Drifter hadn’t spoken a word since. He simply kept moving forward, with no hint on where he was going.

  “Do you even know where you are?” Dale asked again, receiving no answer.

  “Well, can we take a break soon? My feet are killing me.”

  Still nothing.

  “I guess when you’re an inhuman freak you don’t get tired so easily, but do you at least eat? I’m getting kinda hungry.”

  Drifter suddenly stopped in his tracks.

  "Holy shit..."

  “What is it?”

  He quickly looked behind himself.

  “Are you still following me!?”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “I thought you’d lose interest by now.”

  “Yeah, like I have anything better to do than follow you around. It’s either this or go back to begging on the streets.”

  Dale’s talk of begging prompted Drifter to check up on his own economic situation. His wallet’s status: empty.

  “You might want to dust off those skills, because I’m flat broke.”

  “Are you for real!? Did you seriously spend the last of your money on shitty pub coffee!?”

  “You mean the coffee I didn’t get to drink?”

  “We’re not actually going to beg on the street, are we?”

  “No. I’ll just pay a visit to the old cash machine.”

  “That’s a relief, there’s a newsagent just up the road.”

  As Drifter and Dale left the park, crossing the road just up the street, Drifter caught a glimpse of a shadow peeking over the side of a building before instantly disappearing into the alleyway.

  As he examined the small space he noticed a peculiar trail that lead toward the back wall. The trail was some kind of liquid residue. It was definitely strange, but he really didn’t feel like examining it any further, as it smelled like putrid garbage water.

  The alley was empty, save for some miscellaneous trash scattered around, yet the trail cut off abruptly never actually reaching the back wall.

  Drifter could sense the presence of something and remained cautious. He kept this info to himself, in case nothing came of it, and so he could avoid an unnecessary conversation.

  “Dude.” Dale called. “Why are you in this smelly alley? You find a cat or something?”

  “Shut up.”

  Drifter returned to the street where he found his cash machine.

  “This area doesn’t seem too busy… empty even...” He pondered, checking his surroundings.

  “It’s usually pretty quiet on Sunday evenings.”

  “It’s Sunday?”

  “You didn’t know that?”

/>   “Do I have to?”

  “I... guess not…?”

  As Drifter looked over the cash machine, a thought crossed Dale’s mind.

  “Wait a minute… Drifter, do you even have a bank account? Do you have a job, or any sort of income? I mean, you’d think the police would be using your card details to track your location or something, right? After the shit you pulled, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were on some kind of list by now.”

  Drifter immediately kicked in the front door of the cash machine, breaking through the wall and destroying the lock.

  “Did you say something?”

  “No… nothing.”

  He casually ripped the steel door away and reached into the tray, snatching a handful of banknotes, counting up the money with each one he slipped into his wallet.

  “Two grand.” He confirmed. “That should do for a few weeks.”

  “I feel like what you just did was highly illegal.”

  “Didn’t you try to shoot me earlier?”

  “The police aren’t gonna fuck us up for this, right?”

  “Well, they'll certainly fuck you up at least.”

  “Oh… okay… can we get food now?”

  Drifter looked around the street, spotting a restaurant conveniently placed across the road. Nothing too fancy, so he didn’t have to worry about overspending, just a typical pub diner.

  “That’ll do.”

  Without even explaining himself, he moved out. With Dale lagging behind.

  Upon entering the restaurant, Drifter was thankful the place was empty.

  The pair were quickly greeted by the waitress.

  “Welcome. Table for two?” She asked with a smile.

  “Why do I smell shit?” Drifter blurted out.

  “Excuse me, sir?” The waitress asked, slightly offended.

  “Is that you? Is that gross, ‘flies festering in forgotten feces’ smell, coming from you?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s just the rubbish outside, sir.”

  “Jesus… did something die out there?”

  Although the waitress was reluctant to serve such a rude individual, she still had a job to do, a duty to fulfill and a paycheck to earn.