Chapter 3

20 Years Earlier

Fayne opened the door with a look of curiosity on his face. The wind was howling with the voice of a blizzard, but another sound was cutting through. A cry that blended with the scream of the storm in a harmony of fear, rising and falling as if an aria.

He poked his horned head out further and crept forward on two clawed wings, tasting the air with his forked tongue. Yes, something was definitely out there, but he couldn't tell what. He'd never smelled anything like that before. With a hint of...human? In a blizzard in the Valley of the Shadow of Death? That couldn't be right.

Fayne looked back into the shelter to see a little demon with matching leathery wings, playing with some blocks carved from the ash stones near the falls. "Stay here Tavor." The little boy looked up at him with wide bright eyes and nodded.

The wind bit into Fayne's hide as he stepped out into the storm, but that same wind guided him to the strange smell. Another piercing cry coming from his right. He looked down to see a rotted out stump, and there she was. A child demon with 2 arms and legs, a squashed nose that looked vaguely human, and skin as white as parchment.

Half breed. Definitely a half breed.

What else could it have been? Fayne had never seen one before, but he'd heard of them in stories, found abandoned in areas where it seemed only death bred.

But he knew of the potential in those little fingertips that grasped at his outstretched claws. He'd bet his seat at the agency council that this little one would grow up to be a powerful extractor. The human side of her would assure that. She would struggle, but if she could learn to properly channel her talents, she would be unstoppable.

A valuable weapon.

He picked up the small delicate body and headed back to the shelter, covering her delicate form with his wing, knowing the importance of getting her human weakness out of the storm. He closed the door to the shelter behind him and looked at the boy still tinkering with his blocks.

"What is it papa?" the child asked, dropping his toy and rushing over to see what had caught the attention of his father on this relentless night.

"Tavor, say hello to your new sister."

Chapter 2, Part 2

Malaya stalked through the front door of The Agency with Beasley at her heels, head held high. It was rather humerous the way the hound strode through the halls of this most central building of the city. As if he fit right in, unaware of his own differences and the disapproving glares that were shot in his direction. He was a half blood, and thus a lesser being.

Malaya wished she could be so bold. Or perhaps ignorant would be the better term.

She was new to the agency; young and green. Viewed as fresh meat, but she would show them how good she was at her job. She would be the best extractor on this side of the Styx. They would see and respect. They would no longer scorn.

For she knew that not all the glares were shot at Beasley.

The Agency was a large building, and the essential life blood of Hell. The most qualified demons came to work here, in the art of extraction. It was a difficult process to steal a soul. Zero in on your target, secure it, and then get it all in one piece delivered to the boss. Often sloppy or ineffective extractors would come up with only a part of the soul, and the rest was lost somewhere in the limbo between Hell and Earth; a half life, ever wandering, approaching loved ones and strangers as if to say "Please help me! I'm right here!"

Malaya smiled. Despite her own handicaps, she had never lost a soul. She had only been old enough to work here for a month or so, but she had gotten plenty of practice on her own and in school. She was a natural.

Malaya grabbed her punch card and headed towards the portals, avoiding eye contact with another demon who brushed close by, bumping her thin arm and knocking the card out of her hand. "Mutt" he muttered. Malaya looked down at Beasley, feeling a hint of melancholy and understanding for the dog, who stared back up at her with floppy tongue and bright eyes.

She glanced back at the demon, walking down the hall on all fours, sporting the stocky shoulders of a bull and the curling horns of the Devil's trademark. Her hands reached up to her own small pointed horns peeking from behind her stringy locks of hair. She looked down upon her humanoid form. It was true, bulls were common demonic manifestations, as were snakes, spiders, and bats, as well as other creatures and masks who's evil names have been long lost in the winter of Hades. But she had never seen another demon like her, with the form and visage of a dirty earth creature.

Hey, it made it easy to hide while in the humans' world.

"I guess the boss looks a little like me." she thought, "and some of the upper management." But they used to be angels. They retained their own evil beauty that was unlike her greasy hair and eyes, black as coal.

She was different.

"Malaya!" she turned at the sound of her name cried out behind her, a smile playing on her lips. A thin angled demon walked towards her on two legs, tapping his way with the claws at the front of his wings like walking sticks at the end of the slight leathery span, so that his gait was an odd cross between a biped and quadruped. "What's up sis?"

"Hey Tavor! I would've thought you'd be in the field still?"

"I actually just got back from a mission. Don't quite have it in the bag yet, but I'm still working on him. The target's an old Vietnam War vet, recently a widower. Should be an easy one, but for some reason he's got a lot of resistance. But hey, a challenge, right? And there are no extractors better than I!" Tavor nudged Malaya with a crooked finger-like claw. "Well, except for maybe my baby sister. I heard you just finished an assignment and that it was a slam dunk! Matar says you land the best quality of souls he's seen in a while!"

Malaya relaxed a bit at the thought of Matar, her boss and teacher, and one of the few other demons to think positively of her and her abilities.

"Yeah, at least Matar is on board with me." Malaya sighed as she looked around at the rest of the demons walking by. "Some of our co-workers don't seem to be quite so enthusiastic."

She felt a tug at the corner of the ratted tunic draped over her skeletal shoulders and looked down to see Beasley's little teeth chewing at the spider-webbed fabric.

"You know that little half breed following at your heels 24/7 doesn't help, right?"

"Tavor! You know I don't like that term!"

"Sorry Malaya, but it's true. People might accept you for your talents if you kicked the mongrel to the curb."

"You know I can't do that, Tavor. You of all people should know."

Tavor let out a sigh. "I know. I understand the attraction and the sense of curiosity, if nothing else. I guess I'm just worried about you." Tavor smiled. "And so is dad. This isn't going like he thought it would. He thought your work would speak for itself."

Malaya smiled back. "It's my first month, bro. You wait and see. I'll be the best extractor in all the valley."

The late bell dinged, snapping Malaya out of her conversation with her brother. "Dang, I gotta get into the field." She looked towards Tavor. "Can you watch Beasley for a while? He can't come with me and he gets lonely waiting outside the portal all the time."

Tavor sighed. "Yeah, I can do that."

Malaya kissed the hound on the nose and gave him strict instructions to stay with her brother. The pup dragged his little tail over to the demon and sat down obediently under the cover of Tavor's outstretched wings. Malaya smiled. The hound was smart, he understood. Of course he missed her, but that couldn't be helped.

With a quick "goodbye" and a wave, Malaya headed to the portal. She scanned her time card and the sliding doors opened and then closed behind her.

Malaya remembered the first time she had seen a portal, probably one of the most beautiful phenomena in Hell. The portal looked like a spot in a lake where a drop of water had rippled a second before. Curls of purple and blue spreading in a thousand hues and swirling towards the center.

Malaya took a deep breath before stepping in and disappearing into the nothingness.

Chapter 2, Part 1

The tree was an interesting one. It grew straight up out of the stagnant green water. Roots spider-webbed from the trunk all along the edge of the creek bed and up the wall of mud until it reached the level ground of the forest. The trunk was white and sturdy and covered with a fine layer of red moss, soft to the touch.

Malaya sat with her back to the trunk, balanced on two branches of roots, suspended over the water so that if she looked down, all she could see was the space between her and the floating green algae.

The only other view was the one looking down the brook to the falls about a mile down the way. Falls producing a constant dull roar, green foam, and a noxious fume; a fume that extended all through the valley and fed those in the city with a stench riding upon the winds of change.

A stench that tickled a part of Malaya's psyche and stirred the growl of an animal in the back of her throat.

She liked it down here in the valley though, away from the smog of the city. She could closer her eyes and let her mind dwell on something other than past things done. Let the memory of the rest of her life be carried off on the croak of the raven's call. Close her eyes and try to forget the feel of the soul that had seeped its way through her dark purple veins the night before. It was an addicting feeling, a high to feel the life of a human, of human emotions, and she often had to fight to remember that it was just memories past, memories not hers. This was her job, and she was good at it. No time to get overcome by the shadow of each human soul she stole.

Her own paper thin skin, stretched taught across her body, matched the white of the tree, so much so that her body could barely be distinguished from the roots themselves. And so it would be, if not for her hair, colored as if by blood, falling thick around her shoulders and the black of her eyes staring out from an angled face.

Something soft nudged her hand. She jumped lightly before relaxing and caressing the ashen head of the hell hound nuzzling for a bit of affection. Well, hell hound may be a bit of an exaggeration. He was a mutt, as far as she could tell; part hell hound and part earth creature. She had found him a couple months ago. A puppy, cowering in the devil's forest at the gates of hell itself. Normally such creatures didn't survive, but somehow this little guy had made it.

His smaller-than-normal stature and rat like nose made her think that his dog parent had been some sort of small terrier breed. A tortoiseshell pattern leaked through the ashen fur to create a speckled pattern within the gray. The ears as well tapered into a sharper point than was normally seen in the pets of her friends. But the hell hound traits definitely remained dominant; plain to see in the stocky body, whip like tail, and tiny horns that peeked right around the pup's ears.

"What are you up to, Beasley?" Malaya murmered as his little wet nose kissed her extended hand with a gossamer touch. His puppy paws gingerly balanced on the white fingers of the tree, reaching out to grip the shelf. "You hungry bud?" The hound pulled back and shivered. Malaya pulled the dog into her arms, against her chest, and rubbed his rough fur. "I'm a little cold myself. I swear, it gets colder here every year."

A black tongue reached out to lick her paper-like skin. "There! You are hungry! Need something to fuel those growing muscles, you little weed." With a sad look, Malaya surveyed her peaceful haven. "Well, work will be starting soon anyway. Come on bud. Let's get back to the city."

Chapter 1, Part 3

To be perfectly honest, Lexi didn't really want to take on the story about the man with the gun. There was far too much violence already in the world and she didn't want a part of it. Far too much darkness. Everyone had their own demons following them through life until the day they die, even hanging around after death to further taint their legacy.

Demons did that, she knew. Just when you thought your problems had left you, they would revisit in some form. A comment from a friend. A trigger in the news. A dream, inescapable. Sustained by what? Why do some memories fade while others remain, attaining the same painful acuity the possessed at inception?

No, Lexi had enough of her own demons that she had blissfully learned to keep locked away. She felt no need to start digging into other people's dark pasts, and no compunctions at her instincts to simply leave well enough alone.

Yes, that's what she would do. Leave well enough alone.

Chapter 1, Part 2

The journalism department at the University of Oregon was an intimate one with a cluster of faculty offices, each about the size of your grandmother's pantry, located at the center of the old, but still respectable, news building, housing classrooms with windows looking out to the quad, and the ever important News Lab.

The News Lab: a wonderful chance for select undergrads to get their feet wet in the real world of journalism. An opportunity for small teams of students to work on documentaries, local news stories, and the campus paper.

The News Lab: an anteroom to some of the most ambitious, competitive, and talented minds on campus, surrounded by an organized framework of Macs, desks, and filing cabinets.

The News Lab: a family of smiles that lit up when they heard Lexi walk in the door at her ever-punctual time of 10 am.

Lexi was the heart of the paper here. Her writing had a spark and energy that is rare to feel in the icy world of journalism, and the rest of her team knew it. Lexi had a rare knack, a zeal if you will, for getting out in the world the truth of what was REALLY important.

Lexi set her bag down at her favorite computer and bounced her way to the coffee machine in her lime green Keds, returning the chorus of "good mornings" that were sent her way. She reached the pot and began to pour coffee into her usual Peanuts mug (with a cartoon of Snoopy dancing with a top hat and cane and a row of those little yellow birds that no one remembers the name of behind him). The coffee was dark and strong this morning, Jack must've made it. He believed in "real man's" coffee, the kind that will put hair on your chest.

"Better watch out or that stuff'll make you go blind." Lexi jumped as the voice from close behind her shoulder reached her unsuspecting ear. She turned to see a wiry young woman in the signature bare feet that always allowed her to walk around the lab noiselessly as a cat. (She often said that she hated the click of heels.)

"Jesus, Kay! Don't DO that!" Breathed Lexi as she reached into the mini fridge for some milk to thin out her coffee. "You know how jumpy I get! One of these days I'm going to accidentally taser you."

"Haha!" Laughed Kay. "I can see the headlines now: 'Oregon University Star Journalist Tasers Best Friend; Little Pink Hand Tasers in Purses Pose Threat to Pranksters.' If you wanted to lay low, you should've picked a different career, hon."

"You know my convictions, Kay. There are too many stories untold." Lexi replied with a smile. "Anywho, what's new this morning?"

"Actually there's been some real stuff go down! We'll have to have a cage match to see who gets the story. A graduate of the university was found dead in his flat this morning, a gun in his hand. Seeing as how he's an UO alum, they invided us to the news conference. Not much has been released yet."

Lexi frowned. "Who was it?" Kay looked down at her notebook.

"Ummmm... some guy named Ben Sophel. A financial adviser. I've never heard of him before."

"Yeah, me either." sighed Lexi. "It's still sad though. And a little too close to home (or school I guess, if you catch my drift). Anyway, anything else?"

"Yeah, I think you tracked in fox shit on your Keds. You can smell it across the room!" Kay answered teasingly. "Another early morning hike? What are you looking for anyway?"

"I don't know." said Lexi thoughtfully. "But I'll know when I find it. Maybe something profound like 'inner peace'. But that just sounds silly."

"Sounds noble." Kay said, elbowing Lexi in the side.

"Ha! I'm pretty sure there's nothing noble about the fox scat I tracked through the lab! Anyway, we should probably at least TRY to get some work done. Let's pull together for a meeting and figure out who gets this story." Lexi clapped her hands loud enough for the whole room to hear. "Ok guys! Let's bring it in!"

Chapter 1, Part 1

Lexi was running, moving hard and fast as she possibly could. Pushing until she felt the burn in her legs and the fire in her chest. But somehow, she wasn't getting anywhere. She felt as though her legs were churning through water.

She heard his voice behind her and fought the panic rising in her throat. She needed to get away. He was chasing her, his voice rising in anticipation of what they both knew was coming. Her foot caught on an object unseen and she lurched forward.

And now she was falling. Falling very far. Falling into the dark. Falling in slow motion. Falling forever, and hearing that same voice growing softer and softer as it echoed above her.

Lexi's leg jerked against her bed, waking her as the rest of her muscles followed the tension of the twitch. Her body had left traces of sweat on her pajamas and sheets. Had she cried out? Her mouth was stuck in a static scream and her throat clenched, but she was unsure if she had made any actual noise.

Laying her head back down, Lexi closed her eyes and concentrated on slowing her heart rate and controlling her breathing. It was still dark outside and her alarm would not go off for a little while still, so it would be nice is she could lay claim to a few more moments of relaxed bliss that calm sleep, sleep without thought, sleep without dreams, would bring.

But sleep remained elusive and Lexi finally rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats over her sleeping shorts and tank.

A twitch of something soft brushed against her leg, but Lexi was used to this affectionate touch that often greeted her in the morning, so it did not make her jump. She heard the soft purr of her cat, Pepper, as he brushed his tail up against her once more and walked with her towards the bathroom door. Lexi heard a soft thud and, upon turning on the lights, she saw that Pepper had jumped up on the vanity.

Lexi turned on the faucet and splashed the lukewarm water on her face, causing Pepper to jump back with a look of disgust. But after drying off, he came closer to inspect her sleepy visage with her.

Lexi felt a hint of smile at the corner of her lips. She had little to complain about this morning: no wrinkles or worry lines or bags under her eyes and only a hint of the dark circles that used to be so much more prominent. She had learned to relax and de-stress, and it was showing. Satisfied, she pulled her long red hair into a pony tail, turned off the light, grabbed a jacket and headed towards the front door.

"No, Pepper." she murmured softly as the cat began to follow her. She bent down and stroked the turtle-shell coat. "It's too cold out for you to come with me. You need to stay here and guard the fort." She then grabbed the keys in the bowl by the door, but left the pepper spray where it was, confident she wouldn't be requiring it's assistance.

The fresh cold air of Oregon met her face as Lexi stepped outside and began to walk down the path to the forest area about a quarter mile away. The crinkled leaves of October were burn orange and just beginning to be kissed by the warmth of the rising sun. The North Wind fanned his breath through the salmon sky, causing the leaves to greet Lexi with their signature whisper, speaking only to her as she was the one mind present at 5am this Tuesday morning.

She smiled. Life was back to calm. She considered herself one of the lucky ones. One of the survivors. She enjoyed life again. She was happy. She was safe. She was free.

And a dream was just a dream.

Prologue

The man was dead, of that there could be no dispute. Malaya could tell by the glassy stare that was his gaze, seeking deeply into the cracks of the ceiling. The ashen skin that had only just begun to feel cold and clammy to the touch. The still lips that would never again be graced by the warmth of that beautiful thing we call breath.

The .38 caliber hole in his head that gave way to a pool of blood that soaked into his already greasy and disheveled hair (making what was already dark darker) was a dead giveaway as well.

Malaya crept across the room to the desk and shuffled slowly through some of the financial papers; unsure what she was looking for or why she cared. The 25 year old lying on the floor had 10 minutes ago what was  a promising future in this world. he could've done a lot of good with his talents, if he had chosen to apply them appropriately. What a waste, Malaya thought to herself.

But hey, this was her job. And it's not like she had shot the wretched soul. He'd done the dirty work himself.

A picture rested on the desk. A picture of the man and a little boy, both smiling and surrounded by the bright lights of a carnival ride. The boy clutched a sticky mess of cotton candy in one hand and the man's arm in another. A balloon had been tied around the boy's wrist so that he wouldn't lose it and have to watch it fly off into the emptiness of the sky. Who was this boy? The man's son? Nephew? Little brother?

Malaya was sure the man would've gotten the boy another balloon if need be. After all, that is what these fragile humans call love, is it not? That is the warmth that fills their otherwise insubstantial hearts and makes them beat.

Malaya turned back to t he heart that would beat no more, and to the cold metal of the Glock clenched in the sweaty grip of a desperate hand. She pressed her own hand to his chest. This was the part that she dreaded the most, but also the part she most desired. Time to get it over with so she could get out of this shithole and clock this one in on her quota.

She closed her eyes and felt the love rushing through her. A warm light flowed from the man's chest into her outstretched hand. She winced as she felt the raw memories invade her consciousness, but fought to keep them funneling into a contained and controlled part of her being.

Heartbreak, laughter, anger, sorrow, and love; all stabbing into her own twisted self. Yet she drank up and relished the flow of the soul as it passed through her into it's waiting cage. All too soon, she had to relax her arm and shut the door to the prison within her so the soul wouldn't overwhelm her while it was being transported. The body on the splintered floor was now empty.

The light grew a little dimmer. Or was it just her?

She stood and, without looking back, left the room. This was her job: to secure the tormented souls and collect them for the big boss. No guilt on her part.

Her work was done here.

And anyway, HE was the one who pulled the trigger.