Slim's Story

Shelly's time as an NPA agent had left her witness to all manner of horrors that could be inflicted upon the general populace, but few things could lessen the shock of watching people exploding in a bloody mist of gore right in front of your eyes.

She was a veteran field agent though, and she did the only thing one could do in such a situation and still maintain a sense of functionality. She locked it away in that part of her mind to be addressed later. A steely coldness settled over her as she detached from the situation emotionally.

Aiedai's warning of invisible attackers came only moments before one of the hellhounds threw itself at Shelly. The telepathic woman sensed it rather than saw it - an unnatural presence that brushed against her psyche - and she dove clear of its path as she came to one knee with her gauss pistol unholstered and in hand. Her new position provided her some measure of cover next to a desk from friendly fire and it was with fluid precision that she began to empty her own weapon into the invisible entity that had missed its mark. The super-conducted steel 'pikes' fired from the pistol were energized in an electromagnetic field for piercing heavy armor and disrupting shields with their EM fields, but she had never put the weapon to the test against demonic enemies. She would have much preferred an aether rifle right about now. She could only hope the WCPD agents were as well armed as the NPA enforcers typically were.

Someone shoved an aether rifle into Daniel's hands. It wasn't their standard weaponry for on the job with the WCPD, but with the place under assault the armory was quickly being dispersed among the officers - many of which were on par with the weapons typically distributed by the NPA.

Unfortunately Daniel lacked any means of detecting or spotting out the invisible hellhounds as Shelly and Detective Blacksad had seemed able to do. He could however see the security officer walking stoically through the chaos with rivulets of black ectoplasm running down his face.

"Aw fuck me," Daniel remarked as he recognized what was once one of their own guards.

He took to a knee behind his desk and put the butt of the rifle to his shoulder. Other officers were following suit as warnings were shouted for Frankie to stop. Wearing the body of one of their own afforded him a few moments before resolve took over and the officers opened fire on him.

Daniel too squeezed the trigger on his rifle and Frankie was met with a spray of plasmic energy blended with arcane. Capable of disintegrating most materials on-contact, aether's mana-based mixture allowed it to disrupt many shield frequencies while its plasma propellant melted through armor and flesh alike. The arcane nature of the plasma also left it capable of inflicting a great deal of harm on unnatural entities that weren't typically harmed by physical damage alone - including incorporeal or in this instance demonic entities.

Julian had yet to make it out of the room before everything deteriorated into a gory mess. By this point his dog was spitting saliva everywhere as it barked and snarled from the end of its leash at the demonic entities that had erupted from the dying officers.

It was Leon who spotted Julian out, and the officer grabbed him by the arm and pushed him down towards the floor into a crouch between himself and the end of a waiting bench. It wasn't exactly prime cover, but it was better than nothing. It certainly wouldn't do to have the politician shot by friendly fire.

Leon drew his pistol while half shielding Julian with his own form, but he couldn't make out the invisible hellhounds, and he kept his weapon lowered towards the floor in a two-handed grip as he tried to spot out some clue as to where they were located.

Five feet away from Shelly it seemed as if the universe itself was bending and buckling. Was this the manifestation of the strange demonic energies that were plaguing the police station? Or something else.

As the fabric of space and time bent and gave way, belching fourth a deafening crack and a brilliant crackle of brilliant white light, a figure was tossed fourth from the strange hole in space and time. As the figure rolled in front of the NPA Agent and adjacent officers.

As she slowly climbed to her feet, she felt around with her mind as her eyes flashed a brilliant silver color.

"Looks like something needs containment." She said, grumbling at having to deal with Mammon's mess. "Alright then..." With an outstretched hand, a crystal shard emerged from her bracelet, and rapidly expanded into a gauntlet with a fork like protrusion.

In a brilliant flash of light, a full suit of jagged crystalline armor encompassed the woman, bathing her in light and a shimmering crystalline substance. All of this quickly subsided into a metallic mail like outfit worn under the crystalline hardplates.

"Alright, whose in charge and what the hell is going on?" She called out.

Inside the gutted Beverage truck, a few audible, but long paced claps echoed through the back of the truck.

"I applaud your move, Mammon, but do you think something like this is a bit short sighted?" The figure said, seemingly manifesting from nothingness, a surge of pure malevolence, evil and malcontent. The figure sat there in relative silence as space and time distorted around them.

"You aim so small, Mammon, what ever happened to ambition in demons these days?"

The sight of watching his officers, nevermind if some where bordering on the chopping block, erupting or collapsing in agony had a noticeable effect on the hulking figure of Chief Thaddeus Kraggen. Blue crystals flared red, passive going lethal. The almost empty glare he cast John's way was intimidating. "Not a fuckin' clue, Blacksad, but I know what's gonna happen."

"And who the fuck're...nevermind. You ain't shootin' first, so you're friendly." Barking at Marlene, he felt the impact of something on the fields erected by his gauntlets, moving with viper quickness to slam down on the rebounding hellhound with enough force to crack the flagstone floor of the reception area, a slowly appearing puddle of ichor leaking from something that gave one last wheeze as life fled the broken form. "Officers, Director, and Crystal Lady, fall in formations! No more of this chaos shit, we do this with control."

His bellowing roared over the din almost magically, even as his eye caught the hint of gore shifting as something unseen moved over it. Right hand coming up, fingers flared before a beam of rippling crimson light erupted, flashing across the distance like a bullet to strike and then throw another hellhound the length of the reception hall. "First order of business, we bring Leon and the civilian into the ranks, then we clear the commons! Let's move people!"

Kraggen took point on the formation, arcane energies rippling around him as he looked back to the collected officers, waiting until they achieved a state of organization before beginning to move across the room. "Cover your flanks, anyone who can sense these things, call 'em out! Keep a friendly in your sight, and do NOT leave our asses open!"

Randin was gently patting the vomiting officer on the back (the sick man serendipitously spared from his nearly-manifested doom, the poisonous contents of his drink splashed over his shoes) when Mammon made his move. Randin felt it before he saw it, his veins tingling with that familiar sensation. His eyes narrowed, his heart kicking into gear, his mind steeling for a fight. Two times in ten minutes. Not a coincidence.

And then the world went to hell. Men died. Blood painted the lobby in splotchy mists. Screams of agony and terror erupted through the hallways, the warriors of Wing City putting up the best fight they could against the invisible hordes of hell. Those few with heightened or supernatural senses fared moderately well, but unfortunately, the bulk of the precinct was blind.

...but Randin, cursed (or perhaps in this scenario, blessed) with the blood of Mammon himself coursing through his veins, a biproduct of the detective's first viscous duel with his oldest adversary, saw everything. The beasts snarled and gaped at their foes, their massive, blistered bodies blurring across the lobby, piked teeth jarring at their prey. One of them leaped forward, blood foaming from his mouth, lunging at Randin...

The detective had his magnum in his hand before his next breath was drawn. Two quick shots fanned at the hip put out the dog's eyes. Blinded and yelping, the Hellhound rushed madly forward. Randin calmly side-stepped and let the monster collide into the nearest blast-wall. He spun on his heels, holstered and swiftly caught the AA-12 thrown by Slim. He turned and took aim in the same movement, blowing out the disoriented beast's legs and putting three rounds into his head. He was only mildly surprised when the monster bellowed and moaned but did not die. Demon spawns. Only 'holy' weaponry could end these bastards, weapons doused in a special subquantum radiation harvested from a mysterious dimension. Randin was lucky that the Helsing gang had gifted him with a small arsenal of such weapons when he'd last met them. Conventional attacks would only maim or stun the hounds.

With the Hellhound crippled, Randin leaped forward, drawing one of his Helsing holy knives from his boot. Grabbing the mutt by the horns and jarring his head to the sky, Randin swiftly slit the dog's throat. Black, bubbling blood flooded out of his neck, the hound gurgling and whining his last. As the demon's infernal spirit left its host, the spell placed on the beast would be broken, the corpse now visible to the naked eye.

"Slim, catch," Randin nodded, flicking around the blackened blade and throwing it hilt-first to his partner. He drew his second (and last) knife from his boot, his free hand thumbing out six gleaming bullets from his belt. These rounds, dipped in holy water and fortified with a host of devout prayers, were the only substantial defenses Randin had against these infernal beasts. One knife. Six shots.

Don't miss.

Randin ran quickly up to the reception desk, nimbly loading one of his two magnums with the holy rounds. The shotgun was slung over his shoulder. Jumping the desk, he quickly accessed the security logs, thankful for Kraggen's call for order and subsequent handling of the majority of the Hellhounds still loose in the reception area with an impressive display of magic. The lobby was clearing up, the demons either dying, dead or too maimed to move. Randin, of course, knew that this was just the beginning. It didn't take a master detective to deduce that the source of their latest terrorist attack had come from this Hellhound shipment... a shipment that was, currently, nestled deep in the WCPD precinct, buried past several very crucial security checkpoints.

Flipping out of his Caddy, Randin spoke quickly to Kraggen and his makeshift squad of survivors. "Chief. Boys. It's the fuckin' cans. That shipment is four levels deep in the precinct, almost at the core. Whatever's in these drinks, it's letting in bad guys. We need to hunt down the source and bring it down." He spun his magnum. "Targets are particularly vulnerable to subquantum class AG rounds, called 'holy energy' by religious individuals. Last I checked, we don't have too many stockpiled bullets swathed in that aura, but we do have several melee weapons. We should hit up the nearest armory if we want a better chance of defending ourselves."

Alexander froze as the chief appeared in the room and was demanding them to stand before move to different sides of the room depending on who had drank what. He immediately got Benji's lead and tried to move over to one side, but Benji was barking and moving back and forth, not settling at all. It took all of his strength to keep a hold of Benji while Chief spoke. He was pissed.

But that was nothing compared to what happened next. Alex had seen a lot of things since he'd joined the force at eighteen, but he'd not see this. Friends and comrades suddenly either started exploding or dying. Everything suddenly went out of control and Alexander who normally had a strong stomach was nearly sick as everyone that had drank the drink on that side of the room died.

Benji went completely bonkers at this point. He was snarling and barking, pulling at his leash as it seemed invisible forces were attacking them now. Some people on the force had incredible senses and powers to detect what was attacking them but Alexander didn't. All he had was his handgun on him. He didn't want to shoot at anything in case he shot a colleague. As he drew his gun, Benji got free from him and suddenly attacked the air, knocking an invisible force to the ground and attacking what looked like nothing.

As soon as he was deemed finish, he moved to protect someone else from an invisible force. This time he came back to Alex's side as his master moved to the Chief.

"Is there anything I can do?" Alex asked. "Benji seems to be attacking the invisible forces. It seems like he can either see them or sense them or something."

Once again Benji moved and took out something unseen to Alexander nearby and a vicious fight broke out. Alexander lost sight of his dog and frowned, it wasn't like Benji to disappear like that. He couldn't go and find him though. He'd come back. He always did. And the force needed him right now.

"Unfortunately all I have is my handgun right now, and I can't sense anything."

The explosions had given the office a rather thick coating of red over the drab paint they'd had before. Janet was splattered and soaked in the same red after everything went to hell. At first, the woman did not move. She stood there, wide-eyed, with he reflection of panic dancing in her eyes. Her hair, normally a red-brown, was now clinging closely to her skin, soaked, and perfectly scarlet.

Slowly, casually, she rose her hands to catch an aether rifle that was thrown her way. The blood that dripped across her face had a hard time masking the murderous expression that crossed Janet's face as she took it at a sprint to get in formation with the rest of the officers. She skidded to a halt, swung around, and began to open fire on Frankie.

"Fuckers," she spat. I just got my hair done this morning!

The drink slipped out of Saiga's grip as soon as the first officer exploded. Her arm came up, instinctively, to block her eyes. Her head lashed away. NO matter what she did, however, she could feel the warm, wet liquid splatter and strike her body and soak her uniform. Her brand new uniform that she had been so proud of.

Her hand reached for the pistol at her belt, and once the explosions were over, she lifted the gun threateningly, like a startled pit bull. Everything happened so quickly. Almost too quickly for her to process.

The greeting "Welcome to the WCPD," rang through her head.

There were a few things Saiga was still able to do. She assessed the situation as it passed before her very eyes, and had her back against the wall. She heard the shouts- invisible enemies?- and watched as some of their comrades fought off, and killed, some hellish beasts. Her eyes went to the ground as she tried to find a safe path to the other side of the room.

That's when she observed something pretty damn important.

Pit, pat, pata, patta, patapatapata.

The ground, which was now a carpet of blood, splashed in a beeline towards her. As it did, the rosy substance splattered onto and outlined the underbelly and legs of one of the invisible hounds. Her gun raised already, she fired several shots off of it, guesstimating where the head was. The creature reeled back and yelped, but... it didn't die.

"Why isn't it fucking dying?!" she roared over the commotion. She'd shot it in the head. She'd gotten it's head, she was sure! But it was still dancing around!

With a snort, the woman fired off two more shots for the thing's joints. One missed, another just barely landed. The hound went down, and Saiga was already sliding over one of the desks to regroup with some officers.

"Look at the ground!" she cawed. "They're making splashes in the blood!"

Inside the truck.

With a sound of quiet thunder forming in the back of the gutted beverage truck a new figure made its way inside to converse with the Demon Lord of Greed. A powerful figure known as Count Iblis, a being of raw energy and a small god of malcontent convictions, who Mammon has heard of and seen before. But if Mammon was going to be honest he didn’t much care that the being showed up; to him it felt like dealing with a strange cousin he hated running into.

“Count Iblis.” Mammon said. “Good to see you here.” The fallen angel lied with a smile on his face and looking the being in the eye. Mammon turned back to Skylar and squeezed his shoulder playfully and gave him a wink. “Just thought i’d take Skylar out and watch him perform. If he’s going to run a cult gang devoted to me I want to know he’s doing it well.” he said.

Mammon turned his head to look at Iblis. “You see my student, Skylar, here planned this whole thing himself. Right down to the Hell contained in a can idea. And I have a friend inside who i’m plan on picking up.” Mammon smiled and walked to the back of the truck; feeling Randin’s presence just a few yards away. “Join in if you feel like it, The Count. But please excuse me while I concentrate.” he said, leaning against the wall of the truck. A cigarette hanging from his mouth and his eyes closed.

Inside the Department

The Inside of the police department was a gory and nightmarish place to be; bits of flesh and blood coating the floor, walls, and ceiling. Friends, lovers, and comrades stuck to the bottom of the survivors clothes and shoes, or at least what was left of those individuals was stuck to the survivors garments.

The police fought bravely of course, there was no doubt that they remained strong despite the hell they were being put through. But how long could they stay together when demons don’t just fight to kill but fight to break the individual as well? All tucked away with their backs pressed together in different groups and fighting the fiends that threatened them.

The Hellhounds with of course being invisible and difficult targets to kill would prove to be too much for the less experienced, or less lucky, officers. Even with the puddles of blood that splashed and the warning of others, some would be picked off with only feeling the snarlingly hot breath of a demonic hound on the back of their neck before they even had a chance. (Talking about the NPCs being picked off.)

“Frankie, FREEZE!; Frankie, cease and desist!; Frankie, PLEASE!; Come on, buddy!” the officers yelled. But the yells quickly turned into pleas as if their broken concerned voices would snap their old comrade back into reality. Tears shed for a dead friend when a flurry of energy flew down towards the Legion.

With the warnings the black eyed corpse turned to look towards the firing squad, looking down at the men who pointed their guns but only conviction kept them aiming. With the last plea, before the shots were fired, Legion gave the squad a large smile.
Both of his arms flung in front of his body and crossed each other and the desks the officers were sitting at before flew out in front of the body. Each desk didn’t last long against the plasma energy, but with the desks placed one behind the other it provided Legion just enough time to escape the corpse.

Frankie’s mouth opened wide and he screamed and when he screamed so did a multitude of voices. All screaming out in a horrifying choir that truly sounded like was shooting out of hell itself. The screams canceled out all other noise and even the remaining hellhounds stopped in their tracks.

A black mass of shadow and smoke billowing out of Frankie’s mouth, nose, ears and eyes as he and Legion screamed. The pillar of demonic smoke hitting the ceiling and passing through it, not collecting in the room or becoming a large cloud, but seeping into the ceiling itself until Frankie’s screaming was followed by less voices until his own and he fell to the floor limp.

The room was now deathly quiet and none of the surviving hellhounds made a single move. The pool of blood and guts wouldn’t splash, none of the dogs approached any of the officers, and the only evidence the “blind” officers had to go off that the remaining hounds were still present was a dead police dog with an open stomach that was being nuzzled and eaten.

For Randin though, who had Mammon’s blood running through his veins, he would feel a hand grip his shoulder and hot smokers breath whisper in his ear. “Love what you’ve all done with the place.” he said. The Demon lord chuckled and walked out from behind the officer and to his side.

The blood on the floor didn’t ripple, and no other person would hear the voice or feel his presence. Mammon wasn’t really in the room but speaking and interacting in Randin’s head.

“See those mutts?” he said. “Their waiting for me too give them a command. Their waiting for me to say sic em.” Mammon smiled and pulled out a cigarette from his suit’s front pocket. He placed the stick in his mouth and with a snap of his fingers the thing was lit and he took in a large drag.

“Don’t believe me?” he asked, the smoke billowed out of his mouth and hit Randin in the face. “Watch this.” Mammon whistled towards the Hellhound eating the insides of the dead police dog. “Heel!”

The Hellhound looked up toward Randin and then took a few steps away from the dead dog. Mammon took a puff of his cigarette before removing it and placed his fingers in his mouth. He gave a high pitched whistle that would hurt Randin’s ears. “Sit!”
All the hellhounds sat and looked toward Randin once more.

“You might think having my blood running through your veins has come in handy. That it’s given you some keen insight into who I am and how I think. That who can see my Hellhounds as clearly as you can see any other dog, and that means you can survive or fight or win.” Mammon got in Randin’s face and smiled big.

“You’re not reading my mind, Randin, you’re just beginning to think like me.” he said, his warm smoky breath all over Randin’s face. “But I can read your mind, Buddy. And you being here is threatening everyone’s lives...Tell you what I’ll make a deal with you! You open up yourself to me and allow me to turn you into my new vessel and i’ll spare everyone here. No one else has to die! Not even Kianna and that little baby! Refuse and…”

Mammon turned around and whistled. “Speak!”

The remaining Hellhounds let out a loud howl and barks, but it didn’t end with just those hounds in that area of the department. Through out the entire building, on each floor and different checkpoints, all the beings that hid in a beverage and were now free since the sigil was complete all howled out and barked. Filling the entire department with the sound of all the demonic chaos it had been consumed with.

“You’re a smart guy, Randin, figure it out.” Mammon said before he vanished from his sight.

Inside the truck

Mammon opened his eyes and pulled out a phone from his slacks. He gave it a few presses. “Hatchet, I’m going to text you an address I pulled out of Randin’s head. Go find Kianna and i’ll meet up with you later.” He said. Ending the call and sending the text.

Slim was about to run with the group, join his gambling buddies in a stand for the precinct. It was then that everything clicked for the alien, just as he found that were no longer any firearms in the small cabinet for him. Slim knew what he had to do when the Helsing blade came his way, he caught it and slid it in-between his metal dentures.

Slim shoved the last few firearms into people's hands as they took off into a makeshift group of survivors and had already swindled off the SMG to whoever who had asked for it. Slim wasn't in the business of giving the wrong weapons out. The thing that had clicked was irritating him too much, he could stay here and help his comrades in the good fight or...

That truck unloading it's goods wasn't in his way earlier by chance.

"Boys. I'm going solo. You stay with your Siekuj buddies." Slim announced over his radio. "I'm going after the delivery truck, cutting the Juk off." Slim said in almost perfect English. "I dunno what I can do against whoever's got an army of Vaak with him, but I never did have a full flush that night you all lost." Slim ducked under a leaping hellhound, making a mental note to thank whoever pointed out the splashes the creatures made in the blood.

Slim broke though the back door with the codes he had memorised since day one as a WCPD officer. Slim swore and slammed the door shut behind him with an extra hand and leapt into his police cruiser. Slim quickly checked his mirrors for the hound and then ignited the engine and zooming out of the carpark, swerving around the corner and onto the road. Slim flicked the sirens on, and oriented the front of the cruiser towards the truck.

Slim looked back and flicked on the radio, revving the engine. The alien held the door open with one arm, holding onto the steering wheel with his lower set and had a long alien middle finger for the driver of the gutted truck as he shoved the accelerator down and went to total the delivery truck.

"Real human being." Slim muttered over the road of the engine. "Vekak bullshit."

The woman scowled only briefly as Thaddeus barked his orders, with Hellhounds running around she didn't have time to answer his orders.

She had to act fast.

One hellhound lunged towards her, and before it even was in midair, she turned abruptly, raising her gauntlet with lightning speed and loosing a brilliant stream of white light. The hellhound was simply 'Deleted' from existence, no blood, no inky mess, simply gone.

Marlene turned abruptly once more, cleaving a second hound in two with a crystalline blade that shot from her left hand with lightning speed. "Fucking dogs man." She said to herself, bounding through the lobby.

"Hey! Get these people to safety! Those that can fight should do so, I'm going to open a window, you better take advantage of it." She spat as she moved to the center of the Lobby, and with two outstretched hands on either side, she loosed a dome shaped pulse of energy that rapidly expanded outwards. As the pulse of light struck anything demonic, it would likely be deleted through a complex unseen and powerful force altering the fabric of reality itself. This included cans of HellHound, any lingering demons, and other beasts in the immediate area.

Marlene would attempt to effectively purge the Lobby, and all adjacent rooms of demonic energies before she too vanished in a sudden clap of rendered reality.

"Good to see you still on your feet Chief" John said as he took up a post within arms reach of Chief Kraggen. He sensed rather then saw before he struck. With the call to look for the bloodsplashes he smirked, calling out quick towards Leon as he spotted such bloodsplashing dangerously close to a civilian the Wolven was covering for. "Leon!! Your left, on the Visitors bench!!" He swung his swordarm and struck down a hellhound that made to tackle Kraggen from behind. Slicing the thing in two. Dead demonic meat appeared from thin air in two pieces

"Chief, you heard the Crystal Lady I think we need to regroup!" John had to all but scream himself hoarse trying to talk over the demonic howling around them.

He hit his radio "Dirk, look for the bloodsplashes, Cut'emup!!" He heard a gunshot quite loud before Dirk answered "Right boss! On it. Knives up, forks on the left!" Typical call out for a battle in close quarters. John smirked.

To Chief Kraggen he said "Homicide's clear! I think we should head up there. I'll cover you." What could outright slay these demonic creatures ? Only one or two officers could take these things on, he could only sense them, and now thanks to the splashing blood it helped. His ears still rang slightly. He looked around, Where did Slim get off to ?

But then the weird thing happened, first the hounds stopped and howled, the next, most appeared when the crystal lady did her trick, next thing John knew things settled briefly. Some respite it seemed. With what the Crystal Lady had done, the place was mostly clear in the reception area. EVerything else though was still a mess.

And there was still Frankie to .... Ok maybe not. John stared for a brief moment before swearing in french at what he saw Frankie doing.

"Slim! Oh you fuckin' little..." Growling under his breath, Thaddeus slammed his fist in the path of yet another hound, following the splashes headed towards Shelly. A burst of plaster rained out of the wall as the invisible beast hammered into it, with no immediate motion coming from the spot. Glancing behind him, he nodded. "Thanks John."

The sudden stillness that settled in the wake of the howling and the crystal armored lady's burst didn't sit right with Thad, the Chief's voice cracking out in the quiet. "Alright people, take the gift while we can. Let's get Leon and then see who's left. Try the radio, see if anyone's listening."

Moving cautiously but purposely, Kraggen led the group towards Leon and Julian, readying the a couple of charges for high powered beams. Reaching the wolfman's side, he carefully clapped the officer on the shoulder. "Good work Leon. Happen to see anyone else holed up around?"

The initial anger stilled simmered there, but now the Chief was regrouping his people. When he'd envisioned cleaning up the department, this wasn't precisely what he had in mind.

On three Alex began to run to where everyone had grouped together only to be knocked off his feet by something he couldn't see. He slid along the floor, his gun leaving his hand and he cried out in pain as it felt like something was starting to bite through his arm. Blood started to pour but nothing was on his arm. He felt a weight on his body though as the thing continued to bite down on his arm.

His free hand desperately attempted to find something to grab onto to stop whatever was attacking him. The pressure from his arm suddenly lifted and he felt the wait change on him. Whatever was on him was about to go for his neck and face. Alexander wasn't stupid. He closed his eyes, ready to feel whatever it was bite down on his face, before something plowed into them both, snarling.

Benji.

Alex moved out as the dog fought whatever had attacked him. It was like Benji was fighting air. Whatever was happening was brutal and Alex could see the blood coming from his dog. Cradling his injured arm, Alex grabbed his gun and shot at the air this time. No one was around and his dog was out of the way of the shot. Then everything went silent. Not only did whatever was attacking Benji and him stop, but whatever was attacking them for now stopped. Benji was whimpering on the ground and Alex quickly grabbed the dog by his collar and pulled him into shelter by Leon, Julian and the others, making sure that they were protected by a desk. Both master and dog were bleeding. Alex was too busy focused on helping his dog rather than himself.

"Where's the nearest first aid kit? I need a first aid kit!" Alex shouted.

"Just that guy," Leon replied to Thaddeus as he nodded towards the driver who had been stocking the vending machines. "Someone has some explaining to do. Most of those cans were here at least. Whatever is further into the precinct is what was carried in by our own people."

Given that the driver had been stocking the vending machines in the reception hall when the dogs had alerted the place to something being amiss, almost the entirety of the beverages had been contained within the vending machines in the front areas of the precinct and the crate on the counter. Despite Randin's fears, there simply weren't enough officers at the station at this time of morning for more than a handful to have been distributed further inside.

It left the damage largely contained to the front of the precinct where they had been being handed out, and with Marlene having cleansed the immediate area that just left what was carried off by hand, as well as the Legion that had escaped to the upper floors.

Fortunately peoples penchant for drinking the cans obsessively had meant that of the ones that made it deeper into the building only a small number of fewer than a dozen remained intact while the rest had been swiftly consumed as they exchanged hands.

Shelly grunted her thanks as Thaddeus pulverized the hellhound that wasn't being slowed by her gunfire. After Marlene's purging act she lowered her weapon and stood up. There were no further splashes, no fighting, no gunfire. There was just a handful of officers standing clustered waiting for something to happen while another was yelling for a first aid kit.

Her eyes searched the area, blocking out the scene of gore before them.

"This area is clear," she finally told Thaddeus. "Upstairs too I think. Don't think the drinks made it up there - wait nix that." She furrowed her brow as she tried to sort her head out. "Got one upstairs still."

She eased up her stance, but she didn't let down her guard as she took the moment of reprieve to begin reloading her gun. She couldn't pick up on any further demonic threats in the building, but there were still a few cans further in that were unaccounted for and could pose a threat still.

With Randin's advice, the remaining officers were quickly being suitably outfitted to contend with demonic threats but a question lingered on Shelly's mind as she frowned.

"A word when this is over?" she asked Thaddeus.

Her eyes looked to Randin across the room briefly. She was suspicious how he had managed to know so much as he walked in the front door. Even amid the chaos, Shelly was a detective and that part of her never really shut down.

Julian's dog was barking and straining on its leash at this point. The animal knew well that there was another demon in the building yet and it seemed keen on getting to it. It was all Julian could do to keep the animal at heel.

He wound the leash tightly around his hand as Leon helped him back to his feet.

Unlike the officers of the WCPD, Julian wasn't trained for these sort of situations. He had endured the trials of Wing City as had every other resident that grew up here, and he could handle a gun well enough, but that was a fair bit different than being here in the thick of things.

A beam of light preceded Kianna's arrival, and when the light retracted a dozen guns were trained on her from the surrounding police. Had it not been for the infant in her arms, the officers might well have simply opened fire on the woman clad in a T-65 augmented combat skin.

The visor and hood retracted to reveal her face - likely recognizable to many. Though why the Empress of the Aschen was rather abruptly standing in the reception hall of the WCPD was likely beyond anyone's comprehension. For the less politically oriented, she might be better known for her time as a member of the Terran Militia.

"Randin you fucking cock-suck-" she began to spit vehemently before the stench of viscera hit her nostrils.

The room was painted crimson and she was standing on a blood slick floor.

Rather than being revolted, she simply raised a brow.

"Seriously? Is there anywhere in this god-forsaken city that's not being shot up?"

The WCPD had seemed a good choice to bi-frost to, as it was presumably secure, and she could bitch at Randin for his serious lack of forethought in investing in good security despite the universe's penchant for trying to kill him - and apparently people staying in his apartment. It would seem that the WCPD was in the middle of its own crisis though.

The cries of the infant in arm were dying down to whimpers and mewls as it had thoroughly exhausted itself from hours of bawling. It was a moment of bliss. She was standing amid steaming piles of entrails and her only concern was that the fucker had finally stopped wailing in her ear.