After sun up, Sarain found herself in a small one bedroom apartment downtown. Following a few hours of conversation, she learned that the boy’s name was Kit, and that his brother, Nate, had been taking care of him for the past two years since their mother’s death, who had been mugged and murdered. Their father was a deadbeat and hadn’t been in the picture for many years. Kit had always been able to rely on Nate, and didn’t believe that he would abandon him. He had expected him home from work three nights earlier. At first when he didn’t show, Kit had assumed that Nate had to pull a double shift. But by the next night, Kit had become worried. When he finally went to the police, they shrugged off the disappearance as just Nate trying to escape his responsibilities. They had tried to contact child services for Kit, but he took off from the station. Now he had resorted to looking for Nate on the streets.
In this time, Sarain had also taken it upon herself to seal a barrier around Kit’s building. The ritual had taken most of the time, especially with Kit continuously asking questions. She eventually sent him inside to wait for her to finish.
Currently Sarain was back inside, having explained that the barrier kept out demons. She was waiting for Kit to bring her a picture of Nate. She had agreed to look for him, figuring that it was better than Kit going out and looking for Nate himself. He had agreed to stay safely in his apartment until she gave him some answers. Sarain understood that it was possible that there would be no answers, and if it came to that she would have to turn him over to child services. She knew that he wouldn’t be able to take care of himself, and she couldn’t take him in - her lifestyle couldn’t fit a dependant in it nor did she want the responsibility that would come with him.
Kit came back with a picture; he seemed to cling to it, holding it near him. As he handed Sarain the photo, he said, “Sorry, this was the most recent picture I could find.”
The picture was two years old; it was of him and Nate at a park, Nate had him in a headlock, but they both were smiling. It was taken by their mother.
“It’ll do,” she said, taking the photo. She saw Kit’s look of concern, so she added, “It could be something else other than a demon, if that’s what you’re thinking. He could have been in an accident, it may sound bad, but he could just be resting in a hospital somewhere. Normal things do still happen.”
Kit nodded and responded, “I just can’t believe that monsters are real. Nate use to always call me a scaredy-cat for wanting to sleep with the light on when I was little.”
“Well, only daylight would actually help you. A night light wouldn’t do anything,” Sarain commented, and then noticed that her remark wasn’t helping him with his fears. She wasn’t used to being sensitive to others’ feelings; these were emotions she had long since lost.
She got up to leave, and Kit quickly asked, “Are you going?”
“I have to, if I’m going to find out anything on your brother,” she glanced around for a moment then said, “Do you have enough food?”
“Yeah… Are you coming back?” Kit questioned, sounding like a scared child.
“I will when I find something,” Sarain replied reassuringly. But she was only going to give it a couple of days before she would contact the authorities on Kit’s situation. There wasn’t much hope, and Kit needed stability. She would do what she could, but couldn’t let herself get too drawn in. Her work was too important.
She departed, and as she was walking down the apartment stairs, she contemplated her next move. She would have to rest first, but aside from questioning random people and physically searching the streets for Nate, there wasn’t much she could do. She didn’t have the type of resources that the police would have when searching for someone. And she normally wasn’t searching for humans. Besides, odds were that any news Sarain would have for Kit wouldn’t be good.
After she slept, Sarain was once again walking the streets. She left her residence earlier this time, giving her a few more hours of daylight to survey people about Nate. She showed around his picture, but no one recognized him. She first tried more public crowded places, stores and such. When that didn’t pan out, she tried the more slummy areas, seedy bars, and underground clubs; the people at these places were even more reluctant to talk.
Sarain stepped into another tavern; this one had puddles of liquid on the ground, which she hoped was alcohol, as soon as she walked in. The place smelled stale and was poorly lit. Some old sounding twangy music played on the radio while the patrons sat around lazily; most were overweight and looked dirty. She approached the bar, where the majority of the people were sitting, and as she got near she saw a cockroach run down the counter. She cringed, this place made her house seem like a palace.
The bartender glanced up at her and asked, “What can I get you, missy?”
“I’m not here for a drink. I’m looking for this man,” Sarain replied holding up the photograph.
“I just serve, I don’t watch,” he answered back gruffly.
Sarain sighed and took a look around. A man sitting close by was staring at her and he waved her over; he looked rough, but was nothing compared to the demons she fought. She walked to his table with him checking her over as she approached.
“Who you searching for, honey?” the rough man asked.
Sarain held up the picture and replied, “This man, his name is Nate.”
The man quickly glanced at the photo and said, “Who is he to you?”
Sarain stared at the man and answered, “A friend… He’s missing and needed at home.”
“It sounds like you could use a real man at home, honey. Why don’t you sit your pretty little self down and let me buy you a drink,” he boldly spoke, making her disgusted.
“Not interested. I just want to know if you’ve seen him,” she stated, glaring back.
He shrugged, “Can’t say I have… But it seems like a lot of people are going missing these days. Not really a bad thing though, news says that crime and gang activity is at a record low in the city. But then again, it’s never safe for a sweet thing like you to be walking around alone.”
“Well I manage just fine,” she said firmly.
This method appeared pointless to Sarain. She would have to go about searching differently. She turned and headed for the door. When she reached the exit she heard the rough man call out sarcastically, “You be careful out there, honey!”
But Sarain wasn’t the one who needed to be careful.
Stepping outside, Sarain discovered that the day had transformed into night. This was alright with her; she felt she worked better at night.
The streets were quiet, and thinking about it, they had been fairly empty of late. Sarain thought over what the rough man had said about people missing and crime being low. She had been ridding this city of its demons for a while now, but that wouldn’t change the regular human crime level, like gangs, rapes, and muggings; that was all human. She wasn’t sure about actual missing people, she hadn’t been seeing any flyers or anything in the papers looking for people, but there was definitely less activity on the streets. This wasn’t really her concern, and all in all, less crime was a good thing. Besides, fewer people hanging out on the streets also meant fewer people she’d have to save or that could get in the way of her work.
The moon shown down brightly and the air was cool. The vacant streets felt peaceful to Sarain, this wasn’t a feeling she experienced frequently. She usually felt empty, not necessarily sad, but just lacking of emotion altogether. Yet she believed this made her a better hunter; if she didn’t feel fear then her mind wouldn’t get clouded with thoughts of worry and doubt.
The road was wet and appeared to shine under the light of the moon. Sarain’s footsteps were soft on the concrete, she had learned to walk lightly so not to be heard. Trees nearby swayed in the wind, leaves rustled, and a cricket chirped. She could hear the music from a car driving in the distance, and people talking in the building to her right. She focused her hearing so that she could absorb all the sounds around her, and listened for anything out of the norm. The noise of her surroundings faded and somewhere out in the vastness ahead of her she could hear footsteps; they were walking away at a steady pace. They were definitely an alone pair, but they weren’t necessarily demonic; she would have to investigate further. She picked up her speed to catch up to the source of the sounds.
The moon kept the street well lit, so Sarain walked in the shadow of the buildings to keep out of sight. Just ahead she could see the individual come into view. From this distance, the being looked human, but Sarain realized that if this was a vil sang then she wouldn’t automatically be able to tell by looking. She picked up the pace, but still held back, she didn’t want to bring attention to herself. From behind, the person looked male, with short hair and an athletic build. She couldn’t see his face, and he also seemed to keep to the shadows. It was growing late in the evening, not too many people would be out at such an hour. This man could be an insomniac out for a walk, a thug searching for an opportunity, or something else altogether. Her gut told her to follow the man, something just felt strange about him. He didn’t appear to be looking around; he walked as if on a path, and he didn’t check streets signs either, so he must have known where he was and where he was going.
Sarain followed him for about a mile, all the while thinking that everything seemed too perfect; his straight steps on his course with him never looking around or back, and finding him on a night so quiet with empty streets. It almost felt like a trap, but to be so, she would have to assume this man was indeed a vil sang, who knew who she was and where she’d be, and this wasn’t very likely. She was a better hunter than that, and kept a low profile purposely so that the demons would never see her coming.
They finally came upon his destination, a club called The Purge. It was one of those low key clubs; much like a rave, it was located in an old warehouse and didn’t check IDs. It was in downtown slum central, and wasn’t the kind of place for regular club-goers. Word on the street was that this club dealt heavily into drugs and alcohol, and was likely to have mob connections, because the police never touched it. Sarain had never been inside herself, being that she preferred to avoid crowds. Now it was beginning to look like her mysterious hiker was just another junkie looking for a fix. She started to rethink her pursuit on the man, when something suddenly caught her attention. The man had stepped into the light of the club sign, and once lit up, she realized that she had been trailing Nate all along. It was a lucky break that left Sarain feeling unsettled; she didn’t like nor believed in coincidences.