Headphones blasted out the song OHIOISONFIRE by Of Mice & Men as doors slammed open in an abandoned warehouse. Of course, the noise was loud enough for a group of five people to abruptly turn around to where the noise originated from.
There was a man, a hunter in particular, who had two machetes in hand. He had a hoodie on underneath a sleeveless trenchcoat, followed by two buckle-up sword holders over his chest. He also wore some baggy jeans and sturdy tennis shoes, and overall, the hunter looked like a man you'd find at a Comic-Con or something. Instead there he was, quietly singing along to the song he knew by heart and walking to the group of people.
By group of people, it was actually a nest of vampires. But- eh, specifics.
All launched at the stranger and he swiftly cut two of the vampire's heads off, while simply dodging the others who attacked him. He was far more experienced to be fighting a nest of vampires, but this was only something for him to do. Something to distract him from what was really happening in his life.
Right as the song ended, the hunter sliced off the last vampire's head with ease. The simplicity of this whole habit received a huff from him, because he knew he wasn't getting a real challenge. Maybe something easy was what he needed in his life right about now. He just wasn't ready to fall victim to the plan that God, herself, had given him personally.
It was a bright, sunny day as a coffin was lowered into a grave. This coffin belonged to his father... the drunken bastard. The old man had died by kidney failure, and all of his family was sobbing at the fact the pathetic excuse for a father was dead.
He wasn't crying. Actually, he didn't feel a damn thing. His father abused him emotionally and sometimes physically while no one was looking, then turned around to be praised as the Number One Dad on Father's Day. He always did like his sisters more.
Once the burial ceremony was over, everyone headed inside. Well, everyone but him. He wanted to go back to his car and forget that he was dragged to come to his not-Father's funeral. In fact, that plan sounded great. He would head back into the city and continue his job fighting the other monsters of the world.
When the hunter got to his car, however, a woman was there. She was dressed in a tuxedo that was obviously supposed to be for a man, and she had short, black hair accompanied by blue eyes. Those blue eyes resembled a warm, calm ocean, but her appearance screamed out that she meant business.
"Phillip Jack Brooks--"
"That's me." The man said, trying to avoid any conversation. Who was she, anyways? Distant relative? Cousin? Father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate? Yeah, he didn't really care. Though he did care once her hand pushed him back, with force that made him stumble and shiver. That force was all supernatural, and Phil could feel it. The force made his ears ring, another sign that this woman was not joking around.
"Your father was a terrible man to you. I will see that he goes straight down below--- but that's not what I'm here to talk to you about. You have a purpose, and this purpose is bigger than any vampire you have fought. It's bigger than werewolves, hell hounds, wendigos, demons, and angels combined. See, here's something for you... you know the apocalypse, right?"
Silence. Phil didn't really know if he was allowed to speak and answer her or not. The force he felt had told him that the woman was also very powerful. Speaking about the very powerful wrath lady, she let out a frustrating sigh.
"Of course you know the damn apocalypse. Alright, so my boys Michael and Lucifer are going to face off in a few months. Seems like nothing, I'm sure, but this whole planet will be destroyed if you don't stop it."
The hunter's eyes widened slightly. "Why.... Why me..?"
The woman laughed, "Oh, man, you're so cute when you doubt yourself. Baby, I know what I'm talking about, okay? I am your loving God, after all.... well, even though you don't believe in me. Besides the point-- I want you to stop my sons from fighting, and you'll have many opportunities to do as such. And guess what? I'm giving you the first one."
Phil was all ears by this point.
"Lucifer's cage will open in the center of a town called Cambridge, Massachusetts on the ides of March. I want you to try to close the cage before he can get out. Now, how you do such a thing, you'll have to find out, but I know it is possible."
"You're crazy," the bearded man began to say, scowling. "God or not, I can't do something that big by myself. Thanks, but I'll have to pass."
God laughed. "Funny little human, it's like I can squeeze your cute little cheeks! Obviously, you won't be alone. You'll meet one of my finest angels when you enter Massachusetts, and he will guide you on what else to do. Now, whoever you meet along the way is your story, but until then... I suggest you prepare for your encounter with Lucifer. He doesn't take kindly to humans. Or demons. I guess you get my point."
"I don't, actually. Why. Me?"
Before there was an answer to his question, one of Phil's sisters called out to him, making him look at his sister before abruptly turning his head back just to see that God wasn't there anymore. What a big piece of shit God was.
Phil still didn't know why it had to be him.
He was sure that there were plenty of other experienced hunters like him, maybe even some with the powers he had. Well... powers.. more like an unwanted psychic connection with things. It made his exorcising and spells more easier to preform because he could focus more. He wasn't born with his abilities, no, he wasn't that much of a freak of nature. As the hunter kept digging deeper and deeper into the world of the supernatural, there would be at least one or two times he encountered a place where people would love to curse him.
Like back in '07. So many witches wanted his head, so the only thing he could do was learn spells himself and fight back. Before he knew it, his spells had became far more powerful than he could have imagined, and it happened without him even trying. A natural gift- people can argue that. He blames it on the guy who taught him the spells in the first place, Paul Heyman.
That little fat piece of turd. Paul was always looking for trouble, and had so many deals with so many people, he was going to die of diabetes before delivering them all. Phil went to the guy looking to learn spells, but what he got instead were drugs and a powerful angel possessing him. Angels always had to ask permission, and the hunter sure as hell didn't say yes. Though saying no was something he did whenever his mind could regain consciousness, and he kicked that angel out like there was no tomorrow.
He went back to Paul and the fat fuck gave him the spells, but also yet another surprise. The crazy bastard shot himself in the head and the blood and pieces of brain got on Phil, which he now claimed was the reason he had more psychic abilities. If the blood of a witch or wizard happened to get into you somehow, it made you more intertwined with spells and dark magic, all that type of crazy shit. The drops of blood got into Phil's eyes, if you happened to be wondering how Paul's blood got into his body.
Back to the present, the bearded man headed out of the warehouse in a nonchalant way. Not like he should be worried about anything he just did, since the vampires were just asking to get ganked.
However before he got get very far from the warehouse, three men suddenly surrounded him. One of them looked like a lunatic, eyes all crazy and hair looking like it hasn't been combed in days. Another had a beard and hair that was one side black, other side blond. Very pop culture these days. Another was a big, macho man. Long hair, goatee, and a sleeve of tattoos on one of his arms. They all wore the same outfit, hinting they were obviously a team. Great.
"Can I help you boys?" Phil said, looking at the three curiously.
That was until all of them flashed the black eyes. Fuck.
"You're Phillip Jack Brooks. Rumors in Hell say you're gonna stop our creator from starting the apocalypse." The crazy one was the talker. Double great.
"I guess, if you really do trust rumors. Geez, what is Hell? A big High School for damned souls?"
Macho man stepped forward, and the other two didn't stop him. Phil would have to watch his mouth, because he would be fucked right up the ass by all three of them. And no, not in the fun way, either. The hunter still remained calm, however.
"Hell is Hell," now the two-toned demon spoke up, "And we're here to kill you before you can even step foot in Cambridge."
Phil tilted his head, "Ah--- I wouldn't if I were you... I kinda got an angel on my ass, so if you don't want to be screwed over, then... back off."
They all laughed. They figured that the hunter was bluffing. So the tattooed one ran at Phil and tackled him down, getting in a good few punches before standing up, pulling the smaller up while he was at it.
"I'm going to beat you good before I kill you." the man had said just before slamming the other on the ground.
The hunter's head hit the ground and he grimaced. Okay, he could probably start reciting the words to exorcise these bastards, though he was afraid he wouldn't get far. He was in a situation of all kinds of bad, and he wasn't even sure if this proclaimed 'guardian angel' would come to his assistance. This point was stretched further as he felt a boot connect to his head and abdomen multiple times, over and over again. He was puking up blood as the demons just watched him writhe in pain.
In a swift attempt, Phil tried to get one of his machetes and cut off the macho demon's leg off, but it was no use. As soon as he grabbed the weapon, his wrist was crushed underneath the booth of his attacker and he screamed in pain. Wrist- broken. Now Phil didn't even try to do something else too bold with his other hand. He had been drawing a sigil out of his own blood, a sigil he hoped that would send the demons all back to Hell. But as soon as the demon kicked him away from the mark, he roared.
"Little bitch trying to send us back to Hell!!"
The two-toned demon looked over at the hunter with a grin. "Ah, c'mon, guys! Can't I kill him? That's totally kill-worthy."
"That won't be necessary."
The three demons looked over at the new arrival, and all of their faces went from smug to terror in under seconds.
"F-Fuck this!!!" the lunatic yelled, and they all abruptly vanished.
Phil looked over at the stranger then smiled weakly. He could just tell the other was the angel that had been assigned to him. "Look who joined th-the party. Ha. Ya missed the main show."
The angel went over to the hunter and placed two fingers on his forehead, healing him instantly. "I am sorry I could not come sooner. My vessel was hard to convince."
The angel had took the vessel of a man who looked like he was in his thirties, with very short, brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a turtleneck with a blazer, accompanied by jeans and formal dressy shoes. Oh, and note the cross necklace around the neck of the vessel. Okay, how was it hard to convince a religious guy?
"Yeah.... well," Phil helped himself up, patting off any dust he had on him from the dirt. "Now that you're here, I'm guessing you know my name. But I don't know yours."
"John. And I'm not classified under the 'Angels'."
"'Course you aren't, Johnny-boy. Now that you're here, tell me how to close the cage before Lucifer can pop out."
"The event takes place in a week and you still have no plan?"
"Well, shit, sorry mister!" Phil began sarcastically, "Guess I'll go call Mr.McDoesn'tExist and ask him to tell me how to close the cage! ----- C'mon, John. You can't believe that someone on this Earth actually knows how to prevent the Apocalypse!"
John tilted his head. "Yes, I know. But the fact you haven't called upon my brother's or sister's, or even Hell for answers surprises me."
The hunter shrugged. "Lone wolf. Die hard habit."
"Then we have work to do."