Inquisitors; Rulers Of Past

Hesitance

"That would be $10," The man behind the counter said. Barry handed him the money and walked out of the store, a small bag of groceries in hand. He walked towards his apartment, stopping to watch as two large armored trucks zoomed past him, turning the corner at the end of the street.

"Damn," a passerby exclaimed, "It's the Shield."

"If the Shields are here then that means a high ranked Daemon is nearby." Another guy said.

"I prefer them to the Inquisitors." The first guy said, "at least they are more law abiding." The first guy said.

"Shield? Ha! You mean the guys that show up when there's only a high ranked Daemon around? Please. They are a joke." The other guy snapped back.

"At least they don't hire ex-cons and mercs."

"Yeah. But they are more efficient that the no good Shield agents."

"Say what you want but in ten years' time, the Shield will erase the Inquisitors of the face of the Earth."

"You do know that Shield only save priority targets, right? Mayors, politicians, you name it. We are just lambs to the slaughter. The Shield is only there to take credit for the Inquisitors victories."

"I won't accept an organization that uses unorthodox methods to..."

Barry realized that he had been so engrossed in their argument that he had strayed far from his apartment. Pretending to tie his shoelace, he used it as an opportunity to turn around. Honestly, he really didn't care much of the Shield. The first guy was right. The Inquisitors were unorthodox, a funny thought considering he was one of them, but the truth was the truth. The Inquisitors hired any and anyone who was willing to kill Daemon, not caring of the background. And the freedom they gave to its members did not help in the least considering some used it to take advantage of some towns and cities far from the reach of the Shield. But then this didn't mean that they were that lenient. At least the Inquisitors had a strict hierarchy that they obediently followed.

The Shield however- well, he didn't know much about it so he himself couldn't say much but the other guy was right. The Inquisitors were an international Daemon hunter organization. Governments around the world were very much concerned about the threat that Inquisitors could pose. Plus any random terrorist group could just train a bunch of people with Licht techniques and boom. War. So the Shield was also beneficial. But it was run by the government, and the reality of the situation was that they obeyed the government and the government alone. Which mean they did any and every task given to them, whether good or bad.

He arrived at his block and climbed the stairs up to his room. He greeted the receptionist with a bright smile and had a nice chat with the cleaning lady. He reached his floor only for a kid to crash into him.

"Hey kid, he said, helping the boy up. "You gotta watch were you're going."

"Mr. Hunter!" The boy exclaimed.

Barry stared long and hard at the boy. "Fred, right?"

"Yep!"

Barry smiled and reached into his grocery bag and pulled out a chocolate bar. The boy exclaimed and thanked him.

"Oh, Mr. Hunter, your sister is in your room."

Barry smiled. "Thanks for the heads up." Barry opened the door to his room and closed it behind him. In the kitchen. A woman wearing a cheetah spotted shirt and jeans stood in front of the counter admiring the long spear that she had laid on the counter.

"Hello sis," Barry said.

The lady turned. It was the woman from yesterday.

"Ugh... The kid gave me away."

"Yeah, next time give 'em a candy bar to tell them not to say anything."

The woman smiled. "Nice apartment. For a jobless guy."

Barry stopped smiling as he sat on the couch. "What do you want?"

The woman smiled. "My name is Grace. I am a member of a... private organization. Simply put, I'd like to recruit you."

Just the thing that crossed his mind this morning. Very funny fate. Barry stared at her.

"No."

"Oh really? That straight forward, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I've seen your records, Barry, you are a prodigy in the making. Putting your spear down and relaxing here all day doesn't suit a guy like you."

"One. I don't sit here all day. I go out to kill Daemon from time to time."

"Besides yesterday, you haven't killed another Daemon in weeks."

Barry sighed. She had been watching him for that long? Was their organization that desperate for gifted soldiers to parade around in whatever uniform they wore in the name of Daemon extermination?

"Look, Ms. Grace, I appreciate the fact that that someone else hates the idea of Daemon running wild but, I'm done with that life, okay. I may kill Daemon from time to time but I ain't going to do it for long. I... quit."

Grace looked at him and scoffed. She let a short laugh, surprising Barry. "I'll leave my card here. And I'll be visiting from time to time." She placed the card beside the spear and headed for the door.

"But seriously, Barry, you really should reconsider."

"I already have." Barry said bluntly.

She looked at him and sighed before leaving. Barry sat on the couch for a while, staring at the spear that laid on the table. The weapon stared back at him, stirring up the blood in his body. The weapon disgusted him in so many ways, reminding him of the past he sought out to bury. But then, he couldn't leave it behind. As much as he hated it, it was the only thing that connected him to his past-and the very source of his grief. He stood up and walked towards the window, staring outside at the numerous cars and people that moved to and fro.

Grace opened the back seat door and hurriedly got in.

"Any luck," the driver asked, without looking her as he revved the engine.

"Doubt if he was even listening to me." Grace said, "But I'll just come next time."

"Is he that needed?" the driver asked, "I mean we could just find another gifted individual. He doesn't even have a Licht technique, only a Rei."

"Yes," the guy in the passenger seat said, "but a powerful one at that. That Rei of his is the real deal, I've seen the thing in live action. Trust me, it ain't no joke."

"But the guy won't agree to join. He doesn't trust us."

"Can you blame him?" Grace asked, "A random organization comes to your front door right after you leave your old team. Of course you'll be wary."

The guy in the passenger seat shook his head. "It ain't just that, Grace. He fought in the Daemon flood incident. You don't come out of a thing like that with the same old personality." He paused for a while, "if anything, his refusal just means that he's lost too much."

"So what, he's traumatized." The driver laughed, "Please. He's an inquisitor. I thought that kind of stuff doesn't get to him."

Grace stared at the driver. "Inquisitor or not, he's a human. And humans break."

The driver sighed as he drove off.