My name is Trevor Morris. That’s not a name I’d expect most of you to know. Hopefully, for both our sakes, it’s one you’ll never come across.
In the strictest of terms, I’m what you’d call a bail bondsman. Or, in layman’s terms, a bounty hunter. It’s not the romantic life you see in the movies and on TV, though. It’s dangerous. I’ve been shot and stabbed more times than I care to remember, but I always pull through. I’ve got Somebody Important in my corner, it seems.
Bounty hunters aren’t exactly people you’d call “normal”. Anybody who’d willingly risk their lives for something as fleeting as money and glory probably isn’t playing with a full deck. And as far away from average as normal hunters are, I suppose I’m worlds beyond even that. See, I have a friend in New Orleans who just got half a million dollars helping bring in a Cuban drug lord. Somebody else I know in Thailand just busted up a Triad gathering. He got a hundred thousand yen per head. Says he’s got enough for his grandkids to retire on at 35.
Me? Nothing major. I was in Barcelona a few weeks ago. Stopped the Cult of the Bloody Moon from resurrecting their demon master, Bartleby, from his 1,500,000-year sleep. Got blessed by the Pope and everything. Saved all of humanity from demon enslavement. Again.
I’ve never known anything else. My father, Simon, was in the same business. He says the Morris family has always been a tribe of demon-slayers and holy warriors, as far back 900 A.D. My recent ancestor, John, made himself known in occult circles by sealing up the demon warlord Azazel, along with a group of angels. It was pretty impressive, but for my family, it was just another day in the field.
Of course, I’m never alone. Whenever I go out, dad’s right there with me from his home in Miami as my eye-in-the-sky, giving me support and information whenever I need it. Then there’s Kris, my closest friend. Almost like a sister to me. I’ve known her since she was in diapers. Even when she was little, she had a thing for pictures. I guess photography runs in Kristof family as much as slaying does in mine. Funny, how the Morris and Riktophens have managed to stay in touch, even after 150 years. It must be…whaddya call it…destiny or something.
For better or for worse, business remains steady. I hardly have a night to myself anymore, what with all the goths and wanna-be witches running around. People confuse angsty teenagers wearing black and pretending to be vampires for the real thing, and it’s making my life miserable. If those kids saw what the real underworld looked like, they’d straighten out in a heartbeat. Of course, it’s my job to make sure that they never do witness the horrors of Hell. Kinda ironic, how that all works out.
But that’s just the way things go sometimes. You can’t choose your enemies in my line of work. Everybody is a potential vessel for possession, or cult leader in disguise. All you can do is close your eyes, and pray your bullet finds its unholy mark.
Love, hate, and revenge, in the shadows beneath the Brooding Darkness.
- Trevor hunkered down behind a stack of packing crates, scooting against the wall as far as he could go to keep in the shadows. As softly and silently as he could, he slid the spent clip from his pistol, and set it on the ground next to him. He carefully removed a full clip from …
- As the sleek silver jet landed in Heathrow Airport, a solemn figure brooded in her private cabin. Dressed in black, swathed in shadow – she seemed to be the perfect type of thief. Possessor of that air… not even the perky stewardess wanted to go near her. It was a dangerous demeanor she portrayed, and …
- Ana safely tucked Lux and Ater away, completely ignoring the loudmouthed girl in black. Trevor seemed quite upset with what had happened before- and the boy was even more distraught. Good thing she left her card in the sweater he had been wearing; he could call her cell phone if he needed to talk. Who …
- Near the University, in a secluded spot, the world began to move. Rats scurried from their dens in anticipation. Insects began to buzz and fly wildly. Even a serpent or two made an appearance at the “gathering.” Three pairs of malevolent eyes stared out of the shadows. “The human world,” one …
- Raziel meandered through the college's gothic-style halls, his attention completely absorbed by the huge moth-eaten tome he held in his hands. It seemed as precious to him as the book of the great Angel he was named for; the one tossed to the sea out of the jealousy of the angels over the fortune of …
- That swirling, thick feeling of heaviness encompassed within never-ending and never-ceasing void of emptiness flowed like a thick smog and clung to the very fiber of existence as it was known. Chris knew it well. It was through his existence that it in itself existed, his retreat from Aidan and his meaningless endeavors brought it …
- I'm so dead. Wincing to the surrounding garden, Rishta yawned slightly. Having arrived from Venice just this morning, she had been exhausted – and had attempting going to school. Well, that had been a disaster. Obviously jet lag and caffeine had joined together in an unholy matrimony and had caused her pandemonium – she …
- Upon leaving the University of London, Aidan's limousine headed for the King's Memorial Medical Center, a large complex connected to the King's Memorial, one of the finest hospitals in England and Europe. The Medical Center included a Mall and three glass-curtain facade office towers around a plaza above the Mall; the office towers held a …
- Genesis walked down the back alley, only the moonlight illuminated the street. Rays of light cast over her, causing the silver unicorn print on her off the shoulder black sweatshirt to glitter. The only sound in the night was the faint music from the club and the light clinks of her belt chain wrapped around …
- The night was unusually cold. Personally, Belial was more fond of warmer places and wholly different climates, not to mention he was more akin to Latin and Eastern cultures; they seemed to go better with his peculiar personality and temper, despite he had been worshipped in the Harz Mountains and he could count important deeds …
- “Oh… uh… thanks!” Michael was never one to be speechless or even blush at the comments from girls. He received them all the time! But the mention of her friend loving his music, he could feel the heat rising at the back of his neck. He recognized the girl… Allison… being the one to dance …
- And here I thought London would be more stuffy and sophisticated… Right… Autumn stepped out into the cool London night air after escaping the brawl inside the club. If she didn't have to get a conscience last minute, she might've been disappointed to have the night ruined by a bunch of angry drunks. Allot …
- Allison was almost dying from a happiness overload. Sure, she had cursed up all of holy hell – but he didn't mind! And to add on to her victory, he had never de-clinged her until he went for his guitar! What a guy… what a musician! So devoted to his instrument… it was so sweet! …
- Lord Aidan Cynric leaned back in his tall, ergonomic Executive chair behind his large oak desk. His office was silent, as usual – in the silence Aidan could listen better to his own thoughts and to the subtle waves and unchained words of those beyond the human world. Also, in the silence Aidan could try …
- Azazel's smile became more pronounced as Vemchu showed her respect to him – a dark and malicious, yet seductive smile. Azazel walked up to Vemchu and motioned to her to rise. “It's been some time, Kasbeela. I've watched you from my shell…” Azazel shrugged lightly with lazy elegance. “You'll be rewarded for your devotion”. His …
- Silence seeped into Kasbeela's sensitive ears as Azazel took his time to answer her. There was no living creature down here, besides them and that red-haired girl hanging above them. The girl was breathing rather softly, with only a slight ragged touch – probably from Christopher's delicate handling – but she had tuned it out. …