Kris Cuthbert, demon hunters (Alpha and Kattdclaw)

[AlphaZero]

Max wheeled the battered old Chevy pick up truck off the main road and onto the long gravel driveway leading up the old farm. The gravel crunched under the tires as he ease up on the gas, letting the heavy vehicle roll to a stop. He had taken too long to get here, the pouring rain that even now was beating down on truck's roof had caused too much interference with the tracking rune he had slipped into the pocket of the red head back at the club. He had lost the trail twice over the last hour, he only hoped he still had time to put an end to whatever The Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh was planning. He pushed the narrow, rectangular rimmed glasses up onto his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose. The dark aura the farm gave off was giving him a headache.

Up to this point Max had spent the night at a club, drinking over priced bottles of water and watching for any sign of anything amiss. He stood just over six feet tall and his attire for the evening had been a tan pair of cargo shorts with a hawian shirt that exposed the intricate tattoos that covered his lean, muscular forarms. Paired with the shaggy head of sandy coloured hair had gotten him a fair amount of attention from the opposite sex for most of the night that he unfortunately had to turn down.
"I could be in a nice warm with a pretty girl now...." he muttered to himself as he let his glasses settle back into place , a faint green trail appearing several inches above the ground. He leaned forward in his seat, squinting aginast the dark and the rain trying to make out where the trail led. He could make out the shape of the farmhouse at the end of the drive way. Quickly he killed the engine of the truck and shoved open the door and grabbed a messenger bag which he flung over his shoulder, ".....no warm beds and pretty girls for me, no I have to go running out in a rain storm..."


Within his first few steps up the driveway Max was soaked to the bone. He jogged up the driveway his soaked feet squelching inside his sneakers with every step. The ghostly green trail looped around to one side of the house and dead ended at the closed barn doors. The barn doors where opened just enough for him to slip in.

A doze figures in black robes stood at the far end of the barn, a raised wooden platform before them with another held another robed figure and the red head for the club laid out on a wooden table. The hooded man was chanting in what Max thought was ancient Egyptian. He was reaching a fevered pitch and raised a cruel looking knife above his head.

Max shouted out, the tattoos on his arm flashing briefly and then knife wielding brother few backwards, slamming into the back wall of the barn.

As one the hooded figures turned to face him and Max let out a nervous laugh, "Anyone order a pizza?"

 

[Kattdclaw]

-------------------

 

[AlphaZero]

Of all the cults in all the world Max was convinced that The Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh had to be the stupidest. Sure there where plenty of other cults out there that worshiped The Elder Things, but most of them were new aged bulls hit, fad religions that came and went and had no real idea what they were talking about. Those groups at worst managed the occasional spirit summoning and got someone possessed, they never actively tried to awaken something so old and powerful it could destroy the entire world by just sneezing.
What the hell had made them think some random chick they nabbed from a club we be a virgin? Maybe they had some overly specific criteria they had to meet, like they had been told to offer up a red headed virgin with a nice rack and someone had just figured two out of three would work. It's not like some slumbering ancient monster in another dimension would know the difference. It was also entirely possible that fuck ups like this one were why, even after thousands of years, the Brotherhood had yet to wake their sleeping god.


He couldn't help but smirk as the would be victim of the Brotherhood pointed out exactly the opinion Max held about them.

"Well, time to be a big damned hero..." he muttered to himself before clearing his throat and address the gathered cultists, "Alright, so it looks like there has been some kind of mix up and this young beauty does not meet the criteria to be sacrificed to your lord and master. So how's about you cut her loose and we all go our separate ways nice and cool like?"

His request was met by the sound of a shotgun being cocked and leveled at him by one of the figures closest to him, "DEATH TO THE INTERLOPER!" shrieked the gunmen before squeezing the trigger.

A line work tattoo around Max's left wrist flared to life and he yanked the hand up. The buckshot pellets slammed into an invisible wall inches from his body, the force of the blast knocking back, tumbling head over heels into a wooden support beam that he slammed into with a shout of pain.

"Alright, let's do this the hard way...."

Another shotgun blast slammed into the shield, causing him the flinch before he swung out with one hand, an invisible wall of force slammed into hooded figures, knocking them down like bowling pins leaving Max to scramble to his feet and dash towards the wooden platform. The shooter was trying to stagger back to his feet as he passed him and was met with a sneakered foot planted firmly in his face. He felt the assailant's nose break under sole his shoe.

With some effort Max hauled himself up onto the platform and approached the alter, stopping in his tracks to stare dumb struck at the mostly naked woman laid out on the table. He didn't like to make assumptions about a person's character based on their looks but how ANYONE could think a woman with a body like that was a virgin was completely beyond his comprihension.

While he was busy gawking at what he could only describe as a mega babe, Max failed to notice the head cultist had recovered and gotten back up onto the platform, seizing the knife he swiftly shoved the invader aside and rose the knife high above his head still chanting and prepaired to drive it down between the perfectly shaped breasts of his victim.