Semper Fi chapter 1
Title: Semper Fi (chapter 1) Rating: R for violence Genre: Urban Fantasy, (eventual) Romance Warning: Violence, supernatural creatures, my bad spelling Author Notes: This is my original story, as in I own every bit of it. No stealing please and thanks! Summary:After witnessing a vampire feeding, Daniel finds himself dragged into a whole new world of magic, vampires, werewolves and one stranger who's intentions are slightly questionable. Wordcount: 5431 (the shortest one at the moment) Edited by the amazing oliviaokay any remaining mistakes are my own.
Chapter 1
At three in the morning, the city was at its stillest. Even this side of town, where the dregs of society resided, was mostly deserted. The warding spells keeping possible bystanders from wandering in helped with that.
One lone figure sat still as a statue and completely hidden within the shadows of a building ledge, like a gargoyle from centuries ago casting its baleful gaze upon all that passed beneath.
Owl hadn’t moved an inch in the last four hours, and he could stay that way for several more if necessary. It was absolutely essential that his target stayed oblivious to his presence or weeks of tracking and preparing would be for nothing.
Owl reviewed the information he had on his target; an older vampire that had gone rogue. The vampire’s name had been forgotten a long time ago, before he’d moved to Reswin City. Not even the other vampires knew where he had come from, but he had already been insane when he showed up. The more powerful ones called him Sewer Rat, but most just called him the Stalker.
Stalker had been haunting the sewer system for over fifty years now, and he came up a few nights a month to feed on whatever unfortunate victims he could find. This often led city law enforcement to come close to discovering the presence of supernaturals, and that didn’t sit well with the other vampires. Several attempts to ferret him out ended unpleasantly, as no one knew the sewers like he did.
All of which led Owl to his current situation. He scowled; just thinking about the way he’d been dragged into this whole mess pissed him off.
Four Weeks Ago…
The thunk of steel toed boots echoed loudly against the polished marble floors compared to the soft shuffle of the other mages’ footsteps, but Owl paid it no mind. He focused on the piece of paper in his hand, ignoring the curious stares and disdainful sneers from the people he passed. He was used to those, but he wasn’t used to being summoned to the mage headquarters via cryptic notes. He wouldn’t have bothered to come if the letter hadn’t been sealed with magic and marked with the sigil of the highest mage on the west coast.
It didn’t help that said cryptic note had popped up out of thin air right in front of Owl’s face. He’d nearly blasted a hole in the thing when he snatched his gun in startled reaction.
Turning a corner, Owl noted with approval the maze-like quality of the catacombs making up the headquarters, a good defense mechanism. Buried below the city, even lower than the subways and sewers, the mages had carved their secret society. It was a labyrinth of hallways and rooms, some the size of a small village, where the High Mages held Council and new mages were trained. The largest mage center this side of the country, it was second only to the Main Order headquarters in D.C. Some mages completely left the world above them and lived within the headquarters, but most lived a double life and only visited this place when summoned or in need of magical help. Owl rarely visited.
In fact, the last time he’d been here was when he’d first moved to Reswin City. He had wanted to train with the Warriors, while Marcus had wanted to join the Scholars. Unfortunately, the mages had already been informed of their pasts, and while the Council couldn’t force them to leave, they could forbid any formal training and deem them outcasts.
Stopping in front of a pair of massive doors decorated with a mosaic of precious jewels- a waste of resources in Owl’s opinion- he paused to read the inscription above them. He hadn’t known enough Latin the last time he’d been here to translate more than a few words of it, but now he could read the whole phrase.
'OMNIA MVTANT ET CVM ILLIS MVTAMVS.' It roughly translated to, ‘All things change, and we change with them.’
Owl yanked one of the doors open, ignoring the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Marcus, yapping about proper manners and such. He stepped into the spacious room and quickly took in the main features and escape routes: the room was circular and had one visible door, through which Owl had entered. At the far end of the room there was a half-circle raised dais on which the seven council chairs loomed, one for each of the seven sectors of the United States, the northwestern coast being Sector Six.
No one was sitting in the chairs at the moment, but there were five mages clustered in the center of the room. Four of them looked startled at Owl’s abrupt entrance, the last one just looked annoyed. Each wore a gold ring with a colored stone, all but one shone red-they were high ranking mages. The man with the angry scowl had a glowing white stone. Sector Six’s High Mage, Alzon. He looked to be in his mid-sixties, although it was rumored his real age was closer to two hundred, with steel gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was also supposedly quite the fair man, but he and Owl had never quite seen eye to eye.
Alzon spoke, frowning down at Owl as the others composed themselves, “I see that your barbaric manners haven’t changed since we last met.”
Owl was tempted to retort that the High Mage hadn’t learned to lock the doors since they’d last met, but settled with staring back silently. When a response wasn’t forthcoming, Alzon cleared his throat and continued, “Do you have any idea why we’ve called you here?”
“No.” Owl hated this part, all of the useless questions that everyone knew he didn’t have the answers to, but asked him anyway.
Alzon hummed thoughtfully, as if Owl’s answer was something meaningful and needed pondering. Owl was debating whether or not he should just walk out when the door swung shut behind him. The man to his left had done it; Owl had seen his fingers twitch, and now noticed that the culprit was staring rather intently at him. He was a mind reader, then. Owl turned to the mage, a brown-haired man in his thirties, and proceeded to imagine him dying in several horrendous scenarios. The mage paled and looked away, concentration broken.
Alzon did not look amused when Owl looked back at him, but now he seemed ready to tell Owl why they were wasting his time. “We’ve had an offer from the vampires.”
Alzon paused, as if expecting some dramatic reaction. Owl stared at him. Sighing, he continued, “You know of the vampire called Stalker, correct?” He waited for Owl’s nod before resuming, “We have been offered a proposal-a request if you will-to rid the city of this monster.” His lips pressed into a thin line, Alzon gave Owl a long look, measuring him on some mental scale before continuing, “The vampires have informed us that in exchange for getting rid of the creature, they will begin the negotiations for a peace treaty between their kind and ours.” Alzon stopped, gauging Owl’s reactions as he mulled over the significance of the words.
A peace treaty, even a tentative one would be invaluable to the mages who, unlike other supernaturals, didn’t have invulnerability, super speed, or impossible strength. Magic could imitate those abilities, but if a spell wasn’t cast fast enough or a mage was caught off guard, then they could be killed just as easily as any other human.
Alzon’s voice distracted him from his thoughts, “Of course, this pact would only hold within the state lines, but that is only the beginning. Are you starting to see the bigger picture now?”
He could, but that still didn’t answer why Owl was here, although he was beginning to suspect that there was a catch in the deal. Only one way to find out.
“Go and kill him then.” Owl’s forward remark spurred an indignant response from one of the surrounding mages, this time from his right. “Watch your tone, you-“ the woman, a tall, rail-thin blonde in her forties cut herself off as Alzon raised a hand for silence. His expression was calm, but his voice was laced with irritation, “In any other situation, I would happily send out one of my best for the job, but the vampires asked for you.”
This took Owl by surprise, why would the vampires want him to do the job? Even without his past issues with their kind, he was hardly a powerful mage. And to think he had any say in the Council was laughable.
“Or more specifically,” Alzon continued in a derisive tone, “they asked for ‘the mage who dwells among creatures of the night and defends his own rather than hide away like a rodent whenever conflict arises.’ I assumed they were referring to you.”
Alzon did not look happy about being compared to a rodent along with all of the other mages, but Owl was confused. How would the vampires know that it was Owl who pulled off the hit? They couldn’t see auras the way mages could. Maybe they would be able to tell by his scent? More likely it would be the evidence of his unorthodox style of mixing magic and artillery, since as far as Owl knew, he was the only mage who preferred to toss grenades rather than firing spells.
Alzon smiled, the change in demeanor setting Owl on edge. “In return for your services, you and your young friend may reinstate yourselves with the mages. While there will still be some restrictions on you both, you will be allowed to train and study with the others. I suggest you think hard about your decision, for this offer will not come again in your lifetime. And after past incidents,” Owl glared as the old man stressed the word and a few others made noises of agreement, “you should be glad for this opportunity.”
It was then that Owl realized what the old man was planning, sending a barely trained mage to take on an Elder vampire. If it went well, Alzon would get the treaty he wanted, and if Owl failed, then Alzon would be rid of him without having to lift a finger.
Owl had agreed, not because being reinstated was all that appealing, but because it would be the best way for both him and Marcus to learn more about their own magic. He wasn’t too fond of the crazy sewer vampire either, so it was a good solution. In theory at least.
The mages spent the next few weeks giving Owl an intensive crash course in vampire hunting. Learning how to mask his scent, deceive enhanced sight and move too silently to be noticed were essential skills without which he couldn’t hope to succeed. Owl had jumped into his lessons with a ferocity that took the mages by surprise. Despite his dislike of the Council and their ability to corner him into decisions he didn’t want to make, this was the training he’d been waiting so long for. Opportunities to hunt an elder vampire were once in a lifetime, and when they came along either the vampire died, or you did.
The mages wanted Owl to attack the vampire in its own territory, drawing up maps of the sewers and possible danger zones and striking spots, reasoning that it would minimize the chances of any witnesses. Owl deemed the whole thing ridiculous and pointed out alternate attack plans that didn’t involve him dying within the first few minutes.
When they refused to budge on the matter, Owl began planning in secret, contacting Marcus to pull up all the information he could get on attacks that could be linked to Stalker. From there he and Marcus managed to pull together a rough timetable and reoccurring routes that Stalker used. Then it was simply a matter of being in the right place at the right time with a few wards, a rifle and one well-enhanced bullet.
Finally, the moment he’d been waiting for arrived-two figures appeared around the corner. The first strode with a menacing sort of confidence, while the second followed with a dazed, weaving gait-a sure sign of a vampire’s Gaze.
Owl frowned in concentration as he kept the first figure in the cross-hairs through the scope of his most prized rifle, an M40A1 that he’d gotten modified with a larger barrel for his spell infused bullets. They had to hold some of the components for their enchantments, so they were larger than the standard 7.62mm size.
Almost. He inhaled, then exhaled halfway and held it, ready to shoot between heartbeats.
The vampire snatched his victim close, dragging her into a shadowed alleyway and inadvertently shielding himself with her body. Owl bit back a curse, finger frozen on the trigger.
Damn it. He couldn’t risk hitting the bewitched woman, but she’d be dead anyway in a matter of moments if he didn’t act.
Owl paused mid-snarl, movement catching his eye as another figure, a man, strode down the sidewalk toward the alleyway. How the hell had this guy gotten past the wards? There was no time to think about it as the man paused, tilted his head like he was listening for a moment, then stepped directly into the mouth of the alley.
This time Owl did curse out loud as several things happened at once: the vampire snapped his head up, baring his fangs at the intruder, who in turn stumbled back in horrified surprise at the blood-drenched and inhuman face. The vampire ripped out his victim’s throat in one vicious bite before tossing her aside. Blood sprayed against the brick of the alley walls and began spreading in a rapidly growing pool beneath the woman’s still form.
Everything seemed to slow down as Owl’s mind worked to process what he was seeing. The vampire tensed in preparation for a killing strike and the unfortunate stranger stumbled to regain his balance as his mouth stretched into a scream only to be silenced by a single deafening bang.
The rifle’s recoil slammed into Owl’s shoulder as his magically-enhanced bullet reduced the vampire’s head to nothing more than a red and gray splatter across the brick walls of the alley. The blast echoed ominously through the streets for a long moment before time returned to its normal speed as Owl’s instincts retreated and reason took over once more. The vampire’s body slumped to the ground and the now very-lucky-to-be-alive stranger stared at the corpse in shock for a moment before he staggered to his feet and tore off down the street, knocking over a few trashcans as he did so.
Scowling fiercely as he hurriedly disassembled and packed away his rifle, Owl scaled down the side of the building that had been his perch for the past several hours. He absolutely hated situations like these. There was one rule and one rule only that vampires had for humans who discovered their secret: kill them. Now he’d have to find the idiot who had walked right into a vampire feeding and make sure he didn’t get himself killed by letting it spill to the wrong person. Vampires had eyes and ears all over the city, and they’d be scouring for information once they realized-and it shouldn’t take long-that one of their most feared had been taken out.
Owl stepped into the alley, moving first to the dead woman. She had been young, and probably rather pretty. He closed his eyes and spoke a few words of peace over her body, freeing her spirit to move on. He would have to leave her body here for the police to identify.
Next was the vampire’s corpse, which, even headless, Owl wasn’t going to take any chances with. He still had to pierce the heart and burn the body to ensure that there would be no possible chance of the vampire rising again.
Pulling a long, wickedly sharp knife from the sheath strapped to his thigh, he pressed the point between two ribs then pushed in one quick move to stab directly into the corpse’s heart. Then, retrieving a tightly folded plastic tarp from his duffle bag, Owl quickly wrapped the headless body and prepared to take his leave. He’d have to burn it somewhere far away, his wards would fade soon and it wouldn’t be long before someone came to investigate all of the noise. There was a clearing a few hours drive from the city where Owl could safely dispose of the body without worrying about anyone noticing the smoke or flames.
Taking one last look around, Owl notice something laying on the sidewalk. Picking it up, he realized it was a wallet. He flipped it open and frowned.
Interesting.
Owl had only been able to capture a few details of the poor soul who had barely escaped- a quick profile and dark, ruffled hair. The picture on the ID card matched the features he’d seen.
His name was Daniel. Daniel Hauffner. And Owl’s search had just gotten much easier.
But first, Owl thought as he hefted the tarp-covered body over his shoulder and headed toward his car, I have a fire to build.
...........................
Daniel slammed his door shut behind him, shaking fingers fumbling to latch his two measly chain catch locks, one of them just barely attached to the doorframe by a single screw. Then he stood there, staring at the door and gasping for breath as if that-that thing would burst in at any moment.
But it couldn’t, Daniel reasoned to himself. The monster he’d seen was dead. It had to be. No one could survive getting their whole head blown off, right? But that meant whatever killed that monster was still out there, and that it must have seen him too.
Suddenly the locks didn’t look so secure.
Taking a quick look around the sparse apartment, Daniel tried to decide what piece of furniture would be best for holding off whatever was out there. Unfortunately, all of his furniture was from thrift stores and most of it weighed no more than about ten pounds. The only heavy furniture was the couch, and with that in mind Daniel quickly started pushing it toward the door.
A few minutes of huffing and muttered swears later, the couch was successfully in place and Daniel realized that it would probably be a good idea to check his windows as well. It only took a few moments to make a trip around the two-room apartment to reassure himself that the windows were locked and the curtains tightly shut. It was as secure as the cheap old windows could be. He took a small bit of comfort in the fact that he was on the third floor and the fire escape was pretty damned unlikely to hold anyone’s weight. Then again, that meant his escape routes were a bit lacking; his only options being to run out the door or jump three stories if he went through a window.
With nothing left to do but wait until morning, Daniel stood in the middle of his tiny living room feeling nervous and paranoid, trying to convince himself that he was overreacting. The things he’s seen tonight couldn’t have been real.
Except that his instincts never lied. His ‘sixth sense’ as he called it, kicked in every once in a while; an icy chill would shoot down his spine when something bad was about to happen, or sometimes, his skin would tingle and the air would smell of ozone when he was walking through a crowd. Not to mention the times when meeting someone’s eyes would cause the hairs on his neck to stand on end, and it took conscious effort not to literally growl.
Daniel started pacing, his mind replaying the events of the night over and over in way too much detail. When he’d felt the sudden chill and heard noises from the alley, he’d expected a simple mugging, not some poor woman who-who.... Daniel pushed his fingers through his hair and gripped it tightly, using the slight pain to distract himself from the image in his mind, only to end up remembering the woman’s attacker in sharp detail. It had resembled a man, but only in the most basic of ways. Long stretched out features with gaunt, hallow cheeks below dark, sunken eyes glittering with malicious intent. Then there were the fangs; long, sharp and coated with blood.
Things like this weren’t supposed to happen in real life, only in sci-fi novels and stupid B movies about vampires.
Freezing mid-step, Daniel replayed that last thought in his head. A vampire? It was ridiculous. Impossible. But he couldn’t find a rational explanation for the thing he had seen. If it really had been-Daniel felt stupid even thinking it-a vampire, then he just had to wait until sunrise for relative safety.
And if it was a vampire, then whoever had killed it was (hopefully) a good guy. And maybe, just maybe, whoever had fired that killing shot had wanted to save him.
Or there was a psychopath with some kind of super-weapon on the loose in his neighborhood.
Daniel ran a hand through his hair, his frustration fueled by fear. He wanted to go to sleep, his mind and body both exhausted, but he was too afraid to close his eyes. He wanted to believe that the thing he’d seen hadn’t been real, but he knew it was, and that no amount of desperate reasoning would change that.
A familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him, one he had been fighting against ever since his parents had died. Most times, he was able to push it aside and go on with his day, but every once in a while it was too much for him to ignore. When it happened, all he wanted was for someone to hold him, make him remember what was solid and real.
Daniel hated feeling needy, but in times like these, though times had never been quite like these, his ‘sixth sense’ seemed to go into overload. His skin crawled, his insides never seemed to settle and his head felt like someone set off a grenade behind his eyes. He needed something to anchor him and human contact had always worked best, although the awkward mornings after usually outweighed most of the benefits.
Finally, feeling that standing in the middle of his living room with a pounding headache was no safer than sitting on a much more comfortable surface, Daniel retreated to his bedroom and curled up on the center of his bed. Eyes falling shut despite his determination to watch both the door and the single window, he imagined a pair of strong arms circling him, keeping him from falling apart. If he tried hard enough, he could almost feel the reassuring warmth of a body behind him and for a moment, he felt safe.
…………………….
Daniel woke slowly, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he stretched out his body. He sat up, looked down at himself and wondered why he had fallen asleep on top of the covers, still wearing his jeans and shoes. Then, everything from the night before came rushing back.
The dead woman. The gunshot. The vampire-thing.
Daniel stared at his bedroom door, almost too afraid to open it, but he’d survived the night and his sixth sense hadn’t picked up on anything. He scraped up what courage he could manage and forced himself to move. When the door swung open and nothing jumped out to tear his face off, Daniel quickly walked down the short hallway, paused at the entrance to his living room and scanned for anything amiss.
The couch was still pushed up against the front door, where he’d left it, the curtains were still tightly shut, and Daniel was still alive. Everything seemed to be in order.
Maybe he had imagined the scene in the alleyway. Daniel took a moment to ponder the likeliness of a coworker dropping a hallucinogen into his last cup of coffee, or maybe even a little bit of spontaneous insanity. That happened to people, right?
Daniel shook his head at the notion; he worked at the nearby corner store. His coworkers barely made rent, he doubted they would waste money getting drugs to put in his coffee. Well, if it had happened, it would definitely be on the news. He didn’t live in the best neighborhood, but a scene that violent was pretty noticeable.
Daniel picked up the remote and even had his finger on the power button before he lost his nerve. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before opening them again, he tensed slightly, ready to bolt if anything, you know, crawled out of the television.
“Stop acting like an idiot. All you have to do is press the button, nothing’s going to happen. It’s just the news.” Any other time, Daniel would have been glad that there was no one here to see him talking to himself, but was distracted by the television as the screen lit up.
“-in the high 60s. A slight chance of rain Thursday night and clouds through the weekend.”
The weather. Of course, the forecast always came on about ten after the hour, along with traffic and stock rates. Daniel sat on the floor where his couch used to be and stared blankly at the flickering screen as he waited for the actual news stories to start. He had almost drifted off into a light doze when one of the voices caught his attention. A female news anchor had begun speaking in that solemn tone always used for deaths and tragic accidents.
“ In further news, we move to a mysterious and tragic scene in the downtown district of Reswin. Police were called in to investigate reports of shots fired, only to find large bloodstains in a nearby alley. There were no bodies at the scene, but sources suggest that at least two people were slain. The police department has indicated that there are no suspects at this time, but they urge citizens of the neighborhood to be cautious and to report any suspicious activities. Here’s David Timms at the scene.”
The image switched to the live scene: it featured a very familiar alley with slightly less familiar blood splatter. Daniel felt as if his stomach had fallen out, been filled with worms, then shoved back in upside-down. His skin broke into goose bumps, a roaring static drowned out all sounds and his brain seemed to have gone supernova. He tried to stand when a wave of dizziness hit him and the world went black.
………………………
Daniel woke to his watch alarm, the annoying series of bleeps and flashing numbers telling him that he had twenty minutes to get to work. Groaning, he pushed himself off the floor where he’d landed in an ungraceful heap and tried to stretch the knots out of his back. This time, he remembered everything from before, and took extra care in standing up (though, apart from the kinks in his muscles, he felt fine.) Everything was still as he’d left it, and the television still droned on, now covering the latest traffic incident. Daniel did his level best to keep his mind blank as he went through his morning routine and prepared for work, doing his best to ignore the way his eyes kept drifting back to the television and his traitorous mind kept running over the news report.
By the time he left the house, Daniel was almost late for work; he took off at a jog, making sure to avoid the street with the alley. He arrived at work only a few minutes late and clocked in. Working at the local liquor store wasn’t the most glorious job, but it paid just enough to cover his rent and basics, and he supposed that the idea of getting robbed was now less daunting, compared to what he’d seen last night. Refusing to dwell on those thoughts, Daniel pinned on his nametag and buried himself in a series of mindless tasks.
………………………
That night as Daniel finished counting out his cash drawer and Tim, the graveyard shift worker came to replace him, he realized that the idea of walking home wasn’t nearly as terrifying as it had been this morning. His coworkers had acted just as they always did and the day had gone smoothly; even his sixth sense had kept quiet. It helped that he only lived a few blocks away.
But Daniel’s confidence began to fade when he was about halfway home, still avoiding the alley because he wasn’t an idiot, when he had the unnerving sensation of someone watching him. He walked faster, eyes darting around for anyone suspicious, but only saw the usual: homeless people with their sleeping bags and carts of bottles, women on street corners, and a group of teens hanging out at the bus stop. None of them seemed to pay him any mind, as the homeless people ignored him, the women saw his clothes and turned away, and the teens were too busy roughhousing to bother with him.
Still, the feeling persisted until he was in the relative safety of his apartment. Daniel made sure to check the locks and reset his couch in front of the door. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he refused to take any chances. Sleep came a little easier that night and before long Daniel had slipped into oblivion.
Daniel suddenly sat up in bed and glanced at his alarm clock. It hadn’t even been two hours since he’d fallen asleep, but he was sure that something had woken him up. Daniel listened carefully, and after a moment he heard it: something scratching at his apartment door, then the sound of his doorknob being turned a few times. It had to be a thief and Daniel was almost relieved at the thought. He knew how to deal with thieves, at least.
He rolled quietly out of bed and reached for the baseball bat hidden underneath it. Whoever was trying to break in wasn’t being very stealthy about it, which meant it was probably an amateur. Luckily, they were usually pretty quick to run once they realized someone was home. Daniel made a show of switching on the lights and stomping into the main room, and as he expected, the scratching stopped.
Daniel lowered the bat and turned to go back to bed when the pounding started. Whoever was on the other side of his door was hitting it hard enough that the wood was bending inwards. The couch was virtually useless against the onslaught, being shoved back inch by inch with each blow. Interspersed between blows was a loud scraping sound from the wall surrounding the door.
Daniel fell back and scrambled away from the door as it began to splinter down the middle. Paralyzed with terror, his skin broke out into gooseflesh and he was chilled to the bone. He knew- not just from his sixth sense going haywire- but in his mind, as if they were his own emotions, that whatever was on the other side of that door wanted him. It wanted to kill him with a crazed fury that Daniel couldn’t comprehend. He also knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Three gunshots rang out and there was a hideous screech, whatever was outside his door skittered away. The thump of running footsteps followed it, moving past his door and farther down the hall.
Twenty minutes later, Daniel was still huddled against the far wall, trembling with his baseball bat in hand and eyes squeezed shut. He wondered, vaguely, why he hadn’t yet heard sirens. This neighborhood wasn’t one where people really counted on the police for much of anything, but screams, shootings and pounding in the hallway of an apartment complex were things that someone should be concerned about. Daniel himself would have called if he weren’t too terrified to move, and if he actually had a phone in his apartment.
By dawn, Daniel had resigned himself to the fact that no one was coming.
………………………
Owl stared down the street where he’d lost the creature to the shadows, disgruntled but unsurprised that he hadn’t killed it. The guns he had on him were his regular pistols-both of them Glocks; a G17 and a G22-and while they did more damage than any normal gun their size, they weren’t enough to take down what he’d just faced. They were enough to injure and scare it off, though. He’d wanted to take his modified M40A1 with him, since it was one of the few guns in his possession that could hold just about any of his specialty bullets, but there was no way he could conceal it-same with his shotgun.
He wasn’t too concerned about any authorities showing up: no one would remember anything by morning, and the creature was too injured to try anything else tonight. He hadn’t expected it to find the man so quickly-it had almost gotten through the door by the time Owl caught up. The man was safe, but it had been far too close of a call for Owl’s comfort, and he would not let it happen again.
Owl strode back into the apartment complex, this time making sure that his footfalls were silent. Stopping in front of the mangled apartment door, he ran a critical eye over the deep claw marks surrounding the doorframe. The door itself was nearly reduced to splinters.
Owl pressed a palm to the wall and began to concentrate, pushing power through his hand and imagining the damage mending back together. The gashes in the wall began to shrink, steadily sealing shut until the wall was once again whole. Next, he lightly pressed his palm to the door, careful not to put any pressure on the unstable structure. This time he reached out with his magic and felt the damaged areas within the wood before using it to gently slide the splintered pieces back where they belonged, returning the door to its original shape and structure. He made sure to seal every crack until it looked brand new, then stepped back to double check his work.
Owl nodded to himself, then turned on his heel and strode away as silently as he had arrived. He would have to find a more secluded place from which he could watch over the man’s apartment. On to Chapter 2...