A few minutes after the altercation Mortis was on his car after the trail of the killer. Help came quickly to Bill; it so happened that Iron Stonewall was a cautious man and had given the order to nearby 'businesses' to send people to support Mortis. The Tennessee Mafia held sway in a few hotels in the area, from where they run safe-houses and makeshift Clinics. The sounds of bullets had alerted the mafia men of the location of the altercation. Bill was taken to one of set Clinics to be mended, the SUV driver was left in the company of the same mafia men until they could offload him to the police, leaving Mortis free to pursue the fleeing target.
The killer had left behind the piece of blade Mortis had hacked of him, Mortis took the piece with him for research, he was quite sure he could get something out of it, a clue, a mystical impression, or something else that would help him track his killer.
The Detective had managed to talk to the car owner, and got a good description of the stolen car, plate and everything, which he put into good use by making a phone call.
"What's going on?" asked the voice of Chief Rhodes from the other end of the line. Rhodes and Mortis kept a private communication line, in case of emergencies, something that Rhodes was not very thrilled about.
"I found your killer, he is escaping in a stolen SUV, partially trashed front window and driver's door escaping from close to Broadway going South West about ten minutes ago" Mortis was quick and to the point, this was no time for niceties.
Rhodes was not surprised, instead he replied with his own question: "Is it a Grey SUV number 3012?"
"Where is it?"
"There a report of that SUV crashing near Sylvan Park a few moments ago. People said driver hopped of and run on foot" informed Rhodes to an increasingly worried Mortis. Sylvan Park was a residential area full of houses and families that could be easily targeted by the killer, and since the place was a leftover from the American suburban boom the place was full of gardens and bushes anyone smart enough could use to hide.
"Tell officer to stay on their toes, the guy is unstable, may be wearing bulletproof vest, and running around with a broken knife" explained Mortis.
"Got it, will text you the place of the crash and keep you informed if he spring up somewhere" with that the call ended and Mortis took on speed. This was bad, the killer may target innocent families, children. He had to hurry.
On the back of his mind the Detective was not sure what the hell happened to the killer back in the alleyway. He had expected many things, and now he was certain that his weapon was the way it sucked blood from people. But why he has been playing it safe for so long? The thing could have gotten away with so many things, so why go slow? And to what end? He called himself God of Death, pretty dramatic, but that way he acted, possessed people are a lot more verbose, most demons gain power from fear, and their speech was more often than not accompanied by unnatural posturing and attempts at grotesque pantomime with the host body, while ghost try to unleash their pent-up frustration and thoughts on anyone who could hear, but they also were less physically skilled, unless the host gave them full permission to use their body, still Mortis knew a ghost possession and this was not one. So what was left? Andy why the sword? What made the sword special? And the little baton Mrs. Piker had talked about? What was its role in all of this?
More thoughts took root in Mortis subconscious, a skill developed by scientists, thinkers, philosophers and masters of logic and reason, a way to think an idea while the conscious mind dealt with whatever was most urgent at the time, which in the case of Mortis was formulating a plan on how to catch whoever he was after.
Once he arrived to Sylvan Park it took very little time for Mortis to find the wreckage, a wrong turn had turned into a collision with a post, small group of people tried to look at the new attraction, some teenagers taking pictures, the works. Mortis parked nearby, away from the Police officers eyes and went with Cicero to take a look, the killer may be on the loose, but the crash could tell him if he was injured, or if he could be injured at all.
Mortis made sure to pull a leash from his back seat and hooked it to Cicero as to seem like master and pet on a night walk. Mortis and Cicero found two officers surrounding the crash, he approached one of them and tried to strike a conversation.
"Night officer. What happened here?"
"Just a car crash, move along please" said the officer with a nervous disposition.
"I do have first aid training, if there is any way to help I will" insisted Mortis, trying to play a good Samaritan card.
"No need, the driver got away before we got here" said the officer.
"After that crash? I doubt it" Mortis tried to look as surprised and confused as possible, it is amazing how many people would be willing to tell to you if you showed them with ignorance, especially if you claimed to have a skill useful for the moment, it gave many people a sense of power and authority to show and tell, unconsciously feeding their egos. .
"Well, you better believe it! See the window there, that hole was open from the inside. Some witness saw the driver laying on top of the car hood, then the guy stood up, got down and disparaged.
Mortis gave the cop his best confused look, which made an impression on the cop chuckling at what he saw as true surprise.
"Crazy pal I know!"
"I hope he did not go the way I am going" said Mortis.
"Witness saw the guy go west. But don't worry, we will catch the guy. Most probably some addict who thinks he is invincible, someone like that is hard to miss" said the Cop.
"Thank you officer" Mortis said as he tipped his hat and went back to his pursue. Mortis took Cicero around the block to check for his suspect, after all such an accident should have left quite a trail to follow for a dog as clever as Cicero.
Lo and behold, no soon Mortis had gone around the block Cicero caught something. The dog barked powerfully and rushed north like a possessed beast, Mortis readied his knuckle dusters and let his partner rush after the trail. Soon Mortis heard gunshots from the direction they where after, and his canine companion stopped near a house where a woman and two young children stood in their pajamas, looking with distress at the place that was their home.
First instinct Mortis pulled his Detective badge to the mother. "Detective Sebastian Mortis! I just heard gunshots! Are you okay madam?"
"Thank Goodness! Please help us, my husband is confronting a thief that tried to hurt my children! Please help him!" the words of the woman full of desperation and concern for the well being of her husband. Mortis had to act fast, his previous encounter with the killer had taught him that it was a lot harder to kill, but why? Even bulletproof material had limited capacity to absorb damage, and after that crash he should be quite wounded. He took a bullet on the head and kept going! Even a possessed body has trouble with that.
Two more gunshots emphasized to Mortis that he did not have to get lost in thought, he needed to act now!
"Stay here madam. Cicero, with me!" Mortis pulled his Colt, he was not going to hold back this time.
Mortis run in a be line after Cicero, the dog took him to the back side of the house where the kitchen was located, Mortis did not waste time and jumped into the kitchen, dashing at full speed. His tactic worked, for a soon as he stepped into the kitchen a large man pointed and shoot a revolver at the Detective. Two bullets flew before the gun was depleted, non of the bullets where fast enough to catch Mortis, so fast was the Detective the shooter lost sight of him, and only became aware of Mortis's location when the Detective stood besides him, disarming the man with impeccable skill.
"Sorry mister, but I am here to help" said Mortis as he left the man's gun on the kitchen table.
The man was shorter than Mortis but more corpulent, fatter, he had the vibe of an ex athlete that still ate as if he was in peak physical condition. The man was dressed in a simple bathrobe with a shirt-short pajama combo. Clearly not the man the Detective was after.
"Who are you?" asked the annoyed man.
Mortis quickly showed his badge: "Detective Sebastian Mortis. You must be the husband of the lady waiting outside".
"I am" the answer was short and direct, no fuzz.
"I am here searching for a serial killer on the loose, I heard gunshots and came in" pointed Mortis.
"If your are looking for your man he is over there" the man raised his limbs and shifted his head in a straightforward and linear fashion. Mortis followed the accusatory index to a hooded figure lying on the kitchen floor wearing the same clothes and sporting the same holes his attacked did, and now it was, dead?
"It seems to be alright" said Mortis, pointing his gun at the corpse.
"No need to worry, he is dead" said the man with a proud smile that worried Mortis.
"I have been after this man, he is very hard to kill" said Mortis.
"Not with one of this small hand rifle" the man shook his gun with little care, not the behaviour he would expect from a home owner that had to protect their family.
Mortis went to check the body, swiftly pulled the hood back and revealed the face of young man, maybe in his early twenties, light brown skin, curly hair shaved on the sides, and a nasty hole on his right temple were a bullet had gone in.
"See? Dead"pointed the man again.
Mortis opened the chest of the victim and saw, to his surprise, a basic shirt riddled with bullet holes, going deep into the flesh of the victim.
"I killed him really dead" assessed the home owner, his voice having a smug and off undertone.
"It so seems…" Mortis knew that the man had not shoot the killer that many times, it had been Bill the one who loaded most of those holes. Dry holes. Not a drop of blood in any wound, only brain spilling from the forehead.
Cicero sniffed the air around the kitchen and began to bark.
"What is up with that dog?"
"He just smells something off, step back and let him work" stated Mortis. The detective was aware that the man was not interested in seeing his family. Mortis reasoned that either the man was a lousy father and husband or there was something more here.
Mortis noticed the right sleeve of the murderer, the one that had held the weapon, there was a big-nasty hole in the inside of the forearm as if someone had driven a spike, or better say, looking a the torn and bloated surrounding of the hole, someone had pulled a plant out of the arm.
"What did you do with the murder weapon?" asked Mortis to the home owner.
"No weapon, he just came in and tried to kill me" said the man shaking his head.
Mortis stood up and turned around, and looked at Cicero to confirm his suspicions, so did the home owner, and as Mortis suspected Cicero was sniffing around the man.
"Cicero?"
The dog barked twice.
"What is it?" asked the home owner.
"The killer's weapon please" asked Mortis.
"What?" the question came more as a threat than as genuine question.
"You have the weapon the man was using, the dog can smell it on you" insisted Mortis.
"Dog is dumb" replied the man.
Cicero turned from bark into full angry growl, Mortis trusted his canine partner and put the hand on the trigger, yet did not point the weapon at the home owner. Mortis understood that too many things had not been making sense for the last day or so. He had the corpse of a man that not an hour ago tried to kill him, yet he seemed to have died days ago; now the weapon was missing, a weapon that he had deduced was the way the killer got the blood from the victim, and now the killer had a nasty wound were the arm is supposed to be, and the whole speech the killer gave in the alley. It suddenly dawned on Mortis, he may not be dealing with a spirit, but a parasite.
"Who are you?" asked the Detective.
"I am me" said the man trying to faint ignorance.
That did it. The Detective pointed his gun at the man and asked: "What are you?"
The man smiled, it was a crooked and uneven smile, wide and malevolent, made by something that did not understand how a smile worked; muscles failed as the home owner's right arm grew in size.
"I already told you Mortal! I am the God of Death, here to claim this world for myself! Fear me and worship me before I make you a part of me!"
The possessed man threw a punch, and with it came a whole lot of something, like a huge branch of flesh, blood and steel rushing at Mortis with the strength and subtlety of a locomotive. Mortis was sent flying toward the fridge, smashing against the appliance with such strength the Detective left a deep impression of his incredibly solid back on the door. Mortis gritted his teeth at the spike of pain; most men would see their bones crashed by the outstanding strength of the attacker, but Mortis was many times removed from most men, which in turn had saved his life in many an occasion, this being one of them.
The first blow retracted, Mortis was still dizzy for the attack. He had taken the bunch with a solid defence but the whiplash of his head against the fridge had him dizzy. The killer was going for a second blow when loyal Cicero launched his assault, and with ferocious strength he bit onto the man's leg and pulled with such strength the dog managed to pull the attacker to the ground, buying Mortis precious little seconds to get his head back from the tumble drier.
"Good boy!" praised the Detective. Cicero seemed to have the upper hand until he was kicked in the snout by the possessed man. Having done his job Cicero let his target go and retreated to a safe distance.
"Filthy beast!" cursed the man, but by the time he was up Mortis was ready, his Colt Anaconda firing a round powerful enough to blow the fingers and top of man's right hand. It was brutal and gruesome, the possessed man stepping back in shock at the damage received, with no sign of pain, not a scream or shock, which made the hair on the back of Mortis's neck stand and the Detective's mind state "This is bad, this is very bad".
"Let the man go or the next one goes through your head!" threatened Mortis. The Detective wanted the man back alive, but this type of possession, this was new to him, so Mortis had to work with knowledge, speed, and intimidation as his main weapon. One of the things Mortis knew about possessions is that unless the possessor makes a deal with the new vessel the demon had to break the victim slowly before it can pull a major trick. If the deal was done willingly then it was a matter of moments for the demon to go top gear, yet even that punch went beyond any body modification Mortis had studied and/or seen. On the other hand, why would the home owner do a deal so fast? Did the demon trick him? Threatened his family? Either way, the vessel gets linked to the demon, the vessel suffers, the spirit possessing suffers; the spirit heals, the vessel heals. Thus reason dictated, pain and threats made a spirit or demon a lot more cooperative or dumber, either way it usually worked for Mortis.
'Usually' being the key word.
The possessed man began to laugh, a classic move for a demon, it was a low, echoy laugh made from using the lungs but not too much air. To the Detective's surprise the limb did not grow back, instead flesh, blood and a dark substance merged, and from the remains of the hand the very blade Mortis had broken re-appeared from the man's hand, long and terrifying.
"I thank you, you have really help me become good at things I do in before very faster" the words came as an affront to the English language, but the message to Mortis was clear, this thing was not learning, it was remembering.
"Who are you?" asked Mortis as he subconsciously cocked the hammer for the next shot.
The man opened his mouth to speak, no, not the man, whatever was possessing the man opened his mouth. To Mortis's horror the sword pierced the cheek of the man's jaw, impaling both sides, and then pulled out, extending the size of the maw's gape in a horrifying Glasgow smile that proved with no shadow of a doubt whatever was in there was no longer human.
"I AM Jubokko-KEN! I AM THE GOD OF BLOOD AND DEATH! I BRING YOU SLAUGHTER! I BRING YOU DEATH! I BRING TO ALL THE END!" each word was shouted with elation and pride. Mortis was shocked, this was way out of left field even for a man like him, he doubted whether to shoot or not, which bought enough time for a third party to appear.
"Everyone Freeze!" One of the Police Officers that was watching the crashed van had popped from the window kitchen and was pointing his gun at Mortis.
"The man with the sword!" shouted Mortis. The brief moment of distraction gave this so called Jubokko-ken the time it needed. Mortis saw both forearms of the demon grow like blots clay and stroke the ground with the force of a shell fired from a canon. Everyone and everything touching the floor that was not the demon possessed man found themselves in the air, only for the poor possessed bastard to spin like a tornado, using his gigantic arms to launch all the pieces of furniture and large chunks on fixtures onto Cicero, The Cop, and Mortis.
Mortis had a few seconds to dodge and counter-attack, but it was to late. He heard Cicero whine in pain, as the dog was hit by a large piece of counter trying to reach his master, which allowed Mortis to be blind sighted by another giant fist.
Mortis's world went dark.