Remmiel Stories

These are Remmiels stories before he came to Erinn. Here is the first.

The first hunt. The Angel in the school.

The Technocratic Republic was a place of high education for the upper and middle class and sub-par education for the underclass. The poor and degraded were left to work jobs that involved little to minimal education, and had no prospects of advancement. Then again the upper classes didn’t want them to advance they wanted them stuck in eternal stagnation. To be able to advance would give the underclass a chance to evaluate their position more than likely by way of revolt. To prevent this, the upper classes deemed that the lower classes only needed to learn basic math, basic reading, and writing was of little to no importance. A well educated lower cast member should be able to read the operating manual for the machines he would be working on, and perform enough maths to be able to count to ten. They should also be able to write well enough to fill out any forms at work. Beyond that nothing else was needed.
A strange boy walked into the one room school house where the disobedient teacher taught he was of no particular stature, and his uniform did not stand out, it looked like all of the others. His eyes were cold and hollow, but he just blended into the background unnoticed. No one really carried to see him. Like a janitor or garbage collector. Few people take notice of them. Jason hadn’t really noticed the boy either. He was aware that it was like he was being followed but he figured it was a friend who was about to attempt a prank. Jason walked into the boys room. This close to class starting it was empty and he heard the foot steps behind him. He lowered his fly. He felt something like a cobweb on his neck. Then there was nothing.
Jason was being quite in class today. His behavior was good for a change in that he wasn’t acting up or talking out in class he just sat there, and soaked it all up like there was someone standing over him with a scourge making sure he did everything perfectly. She almost had missed seeing him during attendance. Eventually though the school day ended and the students left except for Jason who dropped a book and took long packing.
“Jason is something wrong?” She looked at him again fearing he was being abused at home, and gasped falling back. There kneeling by the bag was a different boy with symbols painted on his face in blood. He stood up his eyes disposed only to death.
“Goodbye angel.” He held up a gun and the teacher felt terror. Her mind raced as it suddenly grasped onto something. Her mind searched to make sense of something. Then she heard his voice, in her mind as the thought came to her. Angels must die; you are an Angel so you must die!
The gun shot rang out. She opened her eyes looked at where he had been pointing the gun it was a foot away from the center of her mass. His eyes showed neither fear nor disappointment. They showed nothing. He stepped forward drawing out a button he flung that button at the teacher who tried to knock it away instead she a thin spider web thread wrap around her wrist and hand. She pulled and the thread grew tight. Fingers, palm, and wrist were severed by the thin thread, with a sound like wet cheese being cut.
The teacher looked horrified at the boy. Who was this killer, she wanted to beg and plead but those eyes. Said it all, you have to die. This boy would not stop until she was dead. Her death was justified unto him. She whimpered and tried to flee from him but there terror his presence invoked was beyond what she had known, Her left leg left a spider web descend on it before he foreword momentum caused the web to tighten her calm was reduced to slices of meat and bone. This boy’s only friend was the reaper. No he was the reaper. With her remaining hand she pushed out trying to push him away. Her pain was she delirious or had he actually been pushed away. His body flung like a doll. The boy stood up though. He faced her; there was no smile, or light in his eyes. She saw the button spin she realized what had cut her hand off, and apart. The boy let the weighted buttons fly she tried to repeat the performance against the buttons but it wasn’t fast enough the wrapped around her hand and then the boy pulled the sound of wet and blinding pain left the hand laying in bloody chunks on the ground.
The youth walked out of the building he took out a small device that looked like a cheap prepaid cellular phone. He dialed a number. Fire licked up the building behind him. The boy didn’t look behind him. He just faded down a back street. Although people remembered seeing a student leave the area, none remembered what he looked like. No one could place him.
The fire burned up the body of the teacher, and the boy found within. There was no soft tissues left and the fires had caused the bones to splinter and shatter to the point that they were unrecognizable. The beloved teacher’s body lay cut apart, and the government issued no statements other than that she and a student had died in a fire.

“Remmiel, born to the Stalking Wolves, give your report.” Said the man in gray, his voice barked the order and he complied.
“Angel terminated, I used a fire to hide my deeds.” The boy who just a moment ago had held the phone that was used as a detonator said.
His handler nodded and turned to the older girl. “What of the Demon, Victoria?”
“The demon was exterminated with prejudice sir I left its body in a controlled fire.

Ewecca hung high in the air as the red headed man curled up on the cool forested ground in the woods outside of Rabbie dungeon. His body was exhausted and so were his companions. He had fallen asleep in the saddle and had to rest for the night. His tawny horse knelt down. The eagle feathers in its main rustled as a wolf curled up near him. His body had grown accustomed to sleeping in nature under the stars. It was a oddity that the sunlight had not turned his skin bronze with the amount of time he spent in it.
As he slept a feminine form crept nearby, the Succubus of Rabbie. She looked at the sleeping person, and touched his head. Such a beautiful mind, so many nightmare memories; which one would she choose? Then she found it the perfect nightmare…
The air was oppressive and so was the heat. All around were sunken pits above them stood the human spectators placing bets and wagering their hard earned money. Dogs were let into the pits hungry for affection they would attempt to tear each other apart so their masters would give them the rare scrap of praise. Their tattered hides glistening with blood. One person stood out, in that he didn’t stand out. Everyone saw him, thought him odd, but didn’t really notice his face, or his hair, or anything at all about him. He was just another person, just a part of the background, exactly as he wanted it.
The runes marked in blood upon his chest hidden under his shirt gave him an aura of not invisibility but rather of just none notice. He looked down into the pit where two dogs tore each other apart, their until one of them got a hold of the leg of one and bit down with little effort snapping bone like twig. It was over. They didn’t bother calling off the fight though till the pit had its offering of life. Remmiel did not look away; his gaze was without passion, or enjoyment. It was a thing, to him, no more note worthy than what either of these animals ate for breakfast. It was there, and it would be there; nothing more, nothing less.
What brought him today though were not the fights, but the master of them. The one who owned these rings; a demon of avarice was running this operation and Remmiel would take its life. Demons associated with the sin of Avarice were conniving manipulators and were attracted to any industry that involved a few key concepts. One of those was guaranteed money; the second was large amounts of money with low investment but growth potential. The last of these is the chance to get mortals in debt to them. Demons of Avarice loved to fuel mortal desire for wealth, things, people, and lifestyles. In short they feed on human greed while teaching its sister sin Avarice, the love of money. Their supplicants would learn to stay out of debt themselves accrue capital, and make investments. Such things were allowable under the laws of Avarice. One wanted their money to grow. Live fine lives but do not live above your means. When you come across the greedy milk them for all they are worth.
Remmiel breathed in the blood magic was holding. The sacrifice must have been a magic user herself he had been lucky. The magic may even hold against the demon. He walked off obeying the commands of his masters. The dead dog being cleared from the arena and the next round getting ready to start, this was his moment to strike. Remmiel was on the move.
The clearing of the hound meant that for a moment security had lowered its guard. Remmiel removed a sword from under his jacket. The accumulator hummed to life as the rune plate sparked the markings started off yellow that blazed into a roaring flame. The sword soon burned to life as the conduits for arcane energy carried the magic throughout the length of the sword. Soon the whole of the blade was sheathed in flame. Remmiel stood ready. His brown hair but in a manner that defined description in such a way as to say it was utterly none descript. It was there, it was brown, and it was so plain that to a woman of “the people” it would be the sexiest hair around.
He stepped into a very well appointed office. Sitting behind the desk was a man, who was dressed in a fine suit wearing fine shoes and drinking fine brandy. He looked at Remmiel and sighed “So an assassin from ‘The People’ is it?” He said in a honey sweet tone as his hand reached into a desk drawer and a stack of bills was placed on the desk in front of Remmiel. “This is for you to change your mind. Leave and say you couldn’t find me and this is yours.”
Remmiel charged in, now it was just insulting him, he had to finish this fast before the demon became serious. This wasn’t a secret demon, it was a true demon. A creature of hell that knew what it was. The demon reacted as it’s human like appearance changed scales appearing on its flesh, and venom dripped from its mouth. The arcantric blade flashed through the air leaving an arc of fire and light in mind. The demon recoiled and spat poison at its assassin. Remmiel twisted around bringing the sword down as he spun around the poison spittle striking his back, the virulent toxins useless unless introduced to his blood or mucus membranes.
The fiery blade burned into the demon’s arm, igniting the toxic blood as it sear sealed the wound it made. The demon pulled back looking at the burnt bone and seared flesh in the wound. The two men, human and demon looked each other in the eye. Trying to gage the others next move. The demon darted to the right, Remmiel Vaulted up onto the desk and brought his foot out and around in a instep kick that connected with the face of his enemy. The demon fell back blood dripping from its nose, its eyes tearing up. The demon snarled and drew up hell fire along its right hand and then projected the torrent at Remmiel. The fire aura on his sword died as the fire came for him. He slashed his own forearm and incanted his blood flung from the wound.
The demon laughed the mortal hadn’t dodged. He poured on the heat and venom as the hellfire seared the office, the desk, and burned away the finery in the room. He would have to invest in new trappings but it was worth it. The mortal would be burned to death, the fires of sin seared white hot causing the room to ripple as the air heated up. The demon felt the pain, running through its bowels. And heard the sucking sounds from within its own body as the super heated metal burned into its flesh and roasted organs and tissues, then severed its spine. The demon looked down on the face of the young assassin. He drew in his breath. Daemonic blood leaked down along the blade. He had come in under the hand projecting the flames. Runes formed of the boys blood danced around him, a ward against the fire feed by the sacrifice of his own life-force. He touched a trigger on the blade and the demon realized it had lost as it felt the vibrations within itself. The blade let go a detonation of fire magic projected out around the blade. Blood was burnt away, and the charred skeleton was blown asunder. Remmiel set up a few explosives in the room.
Once he was outside the arena he pulled out the detonator and pushed the button, and kept walking away, nothing holding him to the spot. The fire that happened killed the dogs, their masters, and the supplicants. A clean sweep, nothing left of the demon no trace or memory.

The Succubus pulled her hand off his head and looked down at the red head. This soul streamer had to die. She placed her hands around his neck. A low growl caught her attention a werewolf stood ready to fight. She snarled at the wolf she could kill this creature without needing to try. She felt an iron cylinder up against her stomach thought that caught her attention.
“Leave my spirit brother alone. “ He gave her a calm look that she remembered from the way that avarice demon died. She gulped.
“What do you want?” She hissed fearing for her life.
“A good night’s sleep, is that too much to ask for?” He looked at her lowering the cylinder from her stomach, “In exchange for my dreams.”
“Deal mortal, your night slumber outside my home will be peaceful, safe, and interrupted in exchange for your delicious nightmares.”