DEMON HUNT

Chapter 74: The Ghosts of DDI

As dawn etches closer, Malcolm walks down the lonely streets of the south eastern city of Pendan. The motion sensitive streetlights light up as he makes his way past them. A male figure appears to be coming from the opposite direction, hands tucked into his coat's pockets. As the duo intercept, Malcolm exhales sharply, before suggesting that the impending conversation take place on a wooden city bench just across them.

Minutes later, Malcolm and Sinister are both seated on the city bench, a good deal of distance between them. Sinister brings out a cigarette from his pocket, presenting the first real opportunity for Malcolm to drop a remark. Malcolm speaks tamely, clearly not as comfortable with Sinister as he was with Charleston, a while back.

Malcolm: I didn't think you smoked.

Sinister tosses the unused cigarette into a nearby bin, digging his hand into his thick chin beard.

Sinister: I thought I'd give it a try. Probably get cancer or something. That way, I'd have something to fight against.

Malcolm becomes silent, evidently short of words. Not even the difficult years that came hard like a tsunami taught him how best to converse with Sinister. Even through the heavy layers of clothing, he could notice Sinister had become even more ripped. With the corp forced to disband, and hunters living like dogs on the run, he hasn't really had much more to do.

Sinister rescues the conversation, his authoritative voice expressing his mind's contents.

Sinister: We shouldn't have let this happen. We could have stood. We could have fought.

Malcolm responds in a dispirited tone.

Malcolm: Toro never came back. Nicholas had already been arrested. There was still no word from Father, and Nicole...

On uttering her name, Malcolm realizes it may be insensitive to continue with his statement. It might just be as bad as talking to Toro and bringing up Mari. There wasn't much in common between Sinister and Nicole, but she was still the daughter of the red dragon, Sinister's mentor.

Sinister, irritated, clicks his tongue, giving Malcolm a look of utter disappointment.

Sinister: Well, go on. I'm not a softie like the rest of you. There hasn't been any sign of Nicole in five years. She may very well be dead.

Malcolm stares pensively into the sky, continuing his softness of speech.

Malcolm: It's not all over, though. It doesn't have to be, at least. We can rebuild. The persecution from the RCSS is strong, but together, we can scale through it. The RCSS intends to carry out a public execution for Nicholas, later today. We can start by rescu...

Sinister rises to his feet, abruptly cutting Malcolm short. Five years hasn't done anything to that side of his nature. He speaks calmly, as if he is making a genuine effort to maintain a cool tone.

Sinister: You were secretary before Father arbitrarily made you a captain. Do you remember?

Malcolm gives a weak nod. Sinister was about to remind him all over again how he wasn't fit to function in the capacity he and the others did. How his support for Omero on the council aided his betrayal, but, however, Sinister was not.

Sinister: As secretary, you were the numbers guy. Always bringing in the casualty numbers, the fatality rates. When you've been counting dozens of deaths on a weekly, individual lives start losing significance. Perhaps, we all missed it somewhere.

Surprised to hear Sinister speak in such a manner, Malcolm calls out his name.

Malcolm: Sinister...

Sinister replies aggressively, glaring at Malcolm.