A Game of Cat and Mouse... But Who is the Mouse? (MonkeyToe x TheVioletVixen)

Jared Leah stalked into the tavern bedraggled and bloodied. The steaming pile of flesh and innards that had been his latest target lay in an alley a few blocks away, already beginning to evaporate back to the hell that had spawned it. Before the tired and limping demon hunter could sheath his blade and take a seat, the bartender had pulled out a dusty bottle aged whiskey and a shot glass. Frowning, the bartender poured the hunter a shot and slid both the drink and the bottle to Jared.

Downing the drink in a quick gulp, Jared slammed his hand against the bar hard as he roared in victorious laughter. "Told you that beast was as good as dead," Jared gloated. "Shame you had to lose your best bottle of whiskey over it though," he shook his head as he poured himself another shot, grinning in triumph.

"That," said an old and haggard voice from behind him, "Was merely a test, demon slayer. Your true target is much more dangerous than thing was. But we had to be sure that your claim was true."

Jared turned as he drank some more, evaluating the wispy old man who stood behind him now. "Well the next one will certainly cost you more than a bottle of whiskey then, padre. Tell me about my new prey."

Though Jared's back straightened slightly at the poorly received threat, his face remained passive and expressionless except for another grimace as another shot of whiskey burned its way down his throat.

"If she turns me, friend," the hunter said, the last word dripping with venom, "You'll have bigger problems on your hands than you can deal with. Of that I can assure you."

Grabbing the bottle of whiskey and stashing it in a pouch on his belt he stood up. "Now, show me where this Demon lives."

-Just a little while later-

"No ones here," Jared cursed in the middle of the empty house, speaking out loud to himself. The large man from the tavern had refused to enter and fled as soon as Jared released him. But the act had been in vain as the demoness had rabbited already.

"Only a fool would try to track and kill a demon by night," he said looking around the home she had occupied. "One night of rest would do me good. Plus," he said with something of a wicked and satisfied grin, "It will give me a chance to enjoy my spoils."

Jared produced the whiskey bottle and unhooked his sword, leaning it against the wall. He uncorked the bottle and took a long, deep swig of the aged liqour and allowed his sensed to dull pleasantly as he settled back on a cushioned seat content with his solitude.

Jared Leah stumbled to the floor from the seat he had been dozing in upon hearing the demon's call. The now empty whiskey bottle crashed to the floor and shattered on impact causing Jared to curse his own poor decisions. First, he should never have stayed in a house that had been owned by a demon. And second, he surely shouldn't have gotten drunk and remained in a home that had been owned by a demon.

But hindsight was 20/20 Jared knew as he fumbled in the shadows for his sword even as the room seemed to spin about him. "Come on where is it..." He fumbled and his hands finally sound their prize. He wrenched his sword free and faced the demon. He may be drunk, but he sure as hell would go down fighting.

That is, had he actually grabbed his sword and not just it's sheath... and provided he had been facing the demon instead of the wall...

Jared spun still holding the sheath of his blade, his true weapon somewhere on the floor. "Don't laugh at my demon," he snarled, though his words were badly slurred and the spinning motion nearly forced him to collapse with vertigo.

"If by 'the one' you mean the one that will collect your head and the bounty laid upon it, then yes, I am he." The threat may have sounded more dangerous without the drunk little hiccup at the end of it.

Jared took a tentative step forward both to assure his footing would hold on the strangely tilted floor beneath him.