Foxfire: Veil of the Nine Phantoms

12: Demon III - Monster Hunters

October 31

The fading light of an autumn sunset glowed softly over the streets of Toronto's East End. Warmly coloured trees lined the neighbourhood in pleasant autumn hues. Crisp fallen leaves were strewn on the roads, lawns, and sidewalks. The front lawns of Riverdale's houses were decorated with Halloween horrors, ready to welcome droves of children eager for chocolates, candies, and sweets.

Four masquerade enforcers from the otherworld, professional monster hunters tasked with keeping the existence of magic a secret from the mundane population of the city, had crossed to the overworld and had arrived at a large abandoned factory on the southwestern edge of Riverdale, near the mouth of the Don River. After investigating a series of mysterious disappearances in the East End, they had followed the trail toward a suspected monster hideout. They stood shoulder to shoulder outside of the factory's entrance, ready to risk their lives to protect the innocent.

Simon, at 37 years old, was the oldest member of the group, though his unblemished and clean-shaven face made him appear a decade younger. He was the most experienced fighter, and the leader of the party, and if he hadn't carried a longsword on his waist Simon would have passed as a model with his handsome features and well-developed physique.

Robert was 10 years younger than Simon, yet he looked older than the leader of the party; his bald head, full beard, and wrinkled forehead betrayed his youth. His eyebrows were always knitted together, which made him seem always irritated. Robert was the largest member of the band, standing a full head taller than Simon, and he was built like a strongman. He carried a Zweihänder on his back.

Rosemary always had her chin up and her gaze downwards, as if she looked down on the whole world as inferior. With her long legs and confident strut, she carried herself with a cranelike grace. She was a modern woman, choosing to wield an arsenal of enchanted guns instead of a sword, which she viewed as medieval and obsolete. Rosemary had a pretentious air to her, and she always dressed in unnecessarily expensive clothing, as if to say she had the utmost confidence that she would emerge unscathed from any fight.

Lillian was the youngest and smallest member of the party. Her large round glasses and puppy dog eyes gave her the appearance of a quiet librarian rather than a professional masquerade enforcer. Lillian was the most talented magician of the group, and she wielded a staff along with a backup wand she kept inside her cloak.

A crow cawed as it flew over the four enforcers. Lillian stared at the bird with curiosity as it glided in circles above the factory. She wasn't sure whether it was a sign of good luck or bad luck.

"Lillian, cast an illusion around the perimeter," Simon said.

"Yes sir!" Lillian immediately went to work, casting a spell to cover the factory and the surrounding area under a magical illusion. It was the standard procedure to prevent mundane humans from accidentally discovering magic.

Once Lillian had finished her spell, Simon entered the neglected building first. He surveyed his surroundings before waving towards his team members to follow him inside. Immediately they were met by the scent of soap, a reminder of the factory's heyday, but they were also met by a more sinister odour, one they were all too familiar with, blood.

Simon drew his longsword, and Robert took out his massive Zweihänder sword too. Rosemary pointed her gun left and right, scanning the area, while Lillian tightened her grip on her staff. The young witch mentally recited a spell which cast light, and the end of her staff lit up like a magical torch.

The interior of the factory was well-worn from a century of operation. The paint was chipping on the walls, revealing grime, and bricks were falling off the pillars. On the ceiling was a spider web of pipes. Shafts of starlight poured faintly into the empty rooms of the factory. A thick miasma, remnants of darker magic, permeated the air, covering the rooms with a ghostlike fog that obscured the senses.