The night was cool. The atmosphere promised rain. The dense fog covered the streets, filling the air with moisture and discomfort for any who dared venture out that night. A gray, wispy cloud shifted, revealing the light of the full moon, and a dark figure moved out of the shadows.

The man was tall, thin, and pale. He wore complete black, and his short and sleek blue-black hair shone in the moonlight. The only hue of his body came from his blood red eyes, eyes that promised hatred, death, and pain to anyone unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of their stare.

The man looked up into the sky and smiled; his enlarged canines glinted in the full moon's light. The wind blew back his hair and long leather jacket, the great number of decorative black belts following, the silver buckles clanging together softly. His body was no longer hidden; his strong masculine form reached an unbelievable height of well over seven feet. Many would look up at his frighteningly large, superior form and his cold, piercing glare, and find themselves overcome with an unbelievable sense of inferiority.

A streetlight flickered to life behind the man. In the distance a wolf howled, a car sped. Out of one alleyway a shabby cat ran out into the street, chasing what was most likely a large sewer rat for its dinner. The moon was once again hidden behind a cloud.

As another gust of wind moved his jacket, the man reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He brought one up to his lips and lit it; the smoke wafted up gently, and he took great curiosity in watching as it swirled and twisted.

His interest in the smoke was interrupted as it was scattered by an unnaturally warm, strong wind, carrying the scent of burned flesh. His jacket once again flew out, this time with new intensity, and his nostrils flared. His eyes became slits as he glared down the street ahead of him, and slowly he reached for the base of his back. His hands rested on two silver 1911 custom handguns, with extended barrels. Carefully he eased them out of their harness, cocked them, and waited for his enemy.

From the distance he could see a flash of orange before it dipped behind a building. As it neared, he could tell that the orange was tipped with yellow; fire, then. The thing stopped- now that it was still, he could tell that it was probably the size of a small house. He adjusted his eyes to see over the great distance; he wasn’t expecting what he saw.

Quickly the man jumped out of the way of a massive fireball as it tore down the road, destroying buildings and burning everything. Landing on his back behind a line of metal trashcans in a side alley, he rolled onto his stomach and protected his head with his arms as a wall of a building came crashing down on top of him.

The creature that had become the fireball quickly turned; its rectangular body seemed to be made of molten rock, the outer edges black, but chipped to show lava underneath. It seemed to not have a neck, but instead an oblong extension of its front with hollow orange eyes, two slits acting as a nose, and a large opening for a mouth. The four legs were of the same design as the body and head, with less black skin and ending with large black claws off of bulky rock-like feet. A red-orange aura surrounded its entire body.

The nostrils on the fire demon were smoking; every time it breathed, the smoke was disturbed. Every movement caused small amounts of lava to splash through the holes in its skin. The demon shook itself, lava pouring everywhere, and started towards a caved-in alley. It stuck its head close to the rubble, sniffed experimentally, and jumped back with a garbled growl as a metal shaft was shoved up and slammed into its nose.

The mound of destruction was still for a moment. Dust sifted, and suddenly large chunks of drywall were thrust upwards, and the man stood, bent over, in the middle of the mess.

He was breathing heavily; dust and drywall particles clung to his black clothing. A small tear in his shirt exposed a bloody scratch on his chest. His guns were still in his hands.

“Look,” he panted. “Look at my shirt. It’s torn.” A gun muzzle indicated the rip, and his head shot up to stare at the creature. He quickly pointed his guns at it. “Now I’ll have to replace it!” he shouted as he shot the creature directly between the eyes once, twice.

The creature howled horribly, stumbled back, and knocked over a bent and burnt streetlamp; it broke the creature’s skin and became embedded in its hind right leg. Growling, it bared its fangs- they were black, similar to its claws- and ran towards its predator.

The man leaped into the air as the creature tore into the alleyway, bringing down what was left of the destroyed buildings, and landed on its back. Part of its skin collapsed, and the man jumped backwards many times to keep his foot from burning in lava, until he was standing in the middle of the road, almost exactly where he had started.

“Shit,” he muttered as he looked around. The street was reduced to a cement wasteland. Water from an underground pipe leaked through the rocks, forming a river of sorts. Electric wires sparked and twitched. The entire ground was horribly uneven, so much so that even slight footing was hard to accomplish. Large chunks of cement and rock jutted out at odd angles. Small puddles of lava spotted the destruction, and cloud of dust hung heavily in the air. The streetlamps that had managed to survive flickered horribly.

The man glared up at the creature. It was standing at the ready, prepared to charge at any moment. He sighed as he placed one of his guns back in its harness, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a handful of clear bullets- each filled with bubbly blue liquid.

The demon charged; swearing, the fighter leapt aside, loading the bullets in midair. He barrel-rolled when he landed, jumped back once more, and aimed at the creature- or where he thought the creature should have been.

He quickly pulled out his second gun once again and aimed to the side; he heard a hiss, and knew the creature was hidden in the darkness. Slowly, he placed his second gun away again, and cautiously stepped towards the alley.

The lava was cooling; therefore, there was less orange liquid to track. The demon’s aura was dimmed. Dimming its aura was a defense mechanism designed to hide itself. The man scoffed. Despite the lack of bright light, the man found the creature easily enough.

In the very back of a large alley, the creature was huddled. When it sensed its enemy, it growled and crouched down further. The man found this humorous.

“My, my,” he called. “A Demon of Fire, afraid of a mere Vampire? Am I not lower than you?”

He stepped forward; the demon growled louder. “Are demons not reborn once they die, whereas Vampires turn to dust, never to return? Why would one such as you be afraid of death? I promise to make it painless.”

Quickly the Vampire aimed his gun at the Demon. He cocked it, and the Creature jumped to its feet, ready to pounce.

Before he could shoot his gun, however, another was shot, breaking through the creature’s head. The bullet exploded, and white liquid similar to what the Vampire’s bullets held quickly began dissolving the lava. The Demon howled in agony, much louder than any other of its previous cries, and lurched forward. Before it could make a promising leap, it collapsed, and skidded on its side, slowing to a stop directly in front of the man. The lava poured out of its body and cooled instantly; the Demon was dead.

The Vampire sighed; running his hand through his hair, he looked up until he saw a feminine body atop one of the building’s collapsing roofs. “Damn it, Aiko,” he called to her. “Why’d you kill it?”

The woman called Aiko transformed into a large brown-and-gold hawk and gently swooped down in front of the man, turning back into a woman at the last minute. She placed her gun in its harness at her hip. Her golden-brown eyes penetrated his without fear; two feet shorter than him, she felt no inferiority. The man looked taken aback as he noticed her glare.

“What?” he asked. She sighed and shoved past him, out into the destroyed street.

Her slightly tan skin glowed in the flickering light around her; her body was well rounded and she was noticeably strong. Her blood-red skirt was slit to her hips at both sides, exposing shapely and well-muscled legs; skintight black shorts covered half of her thighs. Her black shirt wrapped tightly around her waist, but the rest of her back was exposed, the cloth held closed by belts crossing from front to back over her upper arms and strapped around her neck. From the back of her neck to the bottom strap was another belt, buckled at the top of the wraparound cloth, and held two long black whips at the base of her spine. Bandages wrapped up both of her arms, ending before her shoulder. Large black boots covered her feet.

When she turned towards him once more, the long tail of her red bandana fluttered. Her pixie-cut brown hair glinted, its golden highlights catching the light. Her bangs framed her face, growing longer as they neared the edge. Her claw-like hand rested at her hip as she retorted, “Alexander, you’re hopeless.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled, nudging a nearby piece of dried lava with the toe of his boot. The mound turned to ash and covered the leather, dimming the shine. Alexander frowned at the mess.

“You were sent to kill the creature,” explained Aiko, “not taunt it.” She waved her hand towards the streets. “And what’s this?”

“That,” he replied as he walked towards her, “would be the destruction our friend left behind.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, snatching her other with lightning speed as she went for her gun. “Do not question my abilities,” he hissed, leaning towards her; their noses almost touched. “One bite of your beautiful neck-” one hand moved to stroke her skin and he leaned to whisper in her ear- “and you’re mine.” He grazed his fangs against her flesh.

With a grunt, Aiko quickly jumped and shoved both of her feet into his chest; pulling on the arm that still held her wrists captive, she pushed off of him and flipped backwards, her hands twisting free. She reached for her gun in mid-air, landing in a crouch and aiming for-

A screech above caught her attention, and as a gathering of dark mist formed into a bat, she shouted, “Dammit, Alexander, I’m not cleaning up after you!” She cursed as the vampire bat flew off into the night, and looked around.

“I won’t,” she muttered. Slowly she shifted into a large mountain lion, and tore off in the direction her partner had gone.

The smoldering ruin of the city was left behind, but it wasn’t long before shadows stretched over the rocks, and dark creatures from hell arose to claim the abandoned wreckage.