Wrong House

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T---TTHUD

The door falls. In its place is Dean Dexter (Who is alive and burnt). Dean steps into the room.

 “DOYLE.” Dean begins. “I am here—“ He stops in midsentence.

Dean then realized where and what exactly he is in; The Wrong house.

 “Hold your hands up.” There are gangsters aiming their guns at him. “And don’t move you,  beast!”

The 1st Gangster, Harney Billbo, cocks his shotgun.

 “You should lower your weapons.” Dean tells them, touching the tip of his sword attached that is part of a sheath going from his chest to shoulder. It’s similar to what machine gun bullets was part of when going through the gun. His jeans are more torn than usual. His dark motorcycle jacket’s collar was almost a shield to his neck. But the rest of his not-so-good-in-condition style said otherwise.

 These men did not move.

 “What?” Dean said, raising his voice up a pitch.

 “You tortured children…”

 “To death….”

 “Not cool, Demon, not cool.”

I will kill him, then bring Doyle back to life, and kill him again. Dean grouchly thought, his patience is wearing thin. He knew where the half-demon lived. This is the location where the apartment should be. What happened to the apartment is a mystery to him as the Bermuda triangle is a mystery to humanity.  He yanks both blades out from the sheaths.

“Doyle is mine.” Dean strongly said. “And only one of you will live to tell him that. Irish half demon; Green skin, black spikes, red eyes.”

Then Dean killed most of the men, leaving Harney as the survivor.

 “Tell Doyle this; I will find you, first I will kill one by one of your friends or family until you comes to me. Until it’s only your little princess left between you and me.” Dean  said,  “Minus Angel. He’s not my business to kill. Only you.”

The scene transfers to Angel Investigations.

Cordelia puts her hand on the edge of the doorway.

 “Doyle?” Cordelia  starts.as  Doyle put away, ‘Angelas Ashes’ into a drawer. “Where’s your apartment?”

 Doyle laughs, patting the side of his desk and slid the drawer in.

 “I can’t tell ya, Princess.” Doyle tells her. “I can’t tell ya until next week. I’ll know where it is by then.”

 She raises an eyebrow.

 “You don’t know where it is?” Cordelia reasons the knowledge. She taps her chin.. “What did you and Wesley do back there?...”

“It’s for me and him ta know.” Doyle said, with a shrug.

 Cordelia smiles, her eyebrow settles down.

“There’s a Halloween Restaurant  down town.”  Cordelia said, picking up her purse.  “It is open all year. People who are obsessed dressing up can go on dates in their costumes—which yours is kind of a costume.”

“What’s it called?”

 “The Cherry Bean.”

“I’ll be right outside…Have ta get something put a-way.”

Cordelia felt so relieved and happy, closing the door behind her.

This isn’t over, Doyle’s gut told him.

“It took one night for me ta get in a two day worth trouble!” Doyle shook his head, taking his wallet out from the desk drawer under the one that’s used almost every day. He looks over his shoulder. One time he hid some good shoes in the drawer from Cordelia, next thing Doyle knew is they were gone.

He shrugs off this uneasy feeling.

 “Make up,” Doyle morphs into his demon form.  He has a chuckle seeing how clever this date could get. “Perfect excuse.”

He walks out the door and goes with Cordelia.

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