The Hunting Journal

“Oh great, now what?”

This hunt has been a bust for Kiwi. Lowell’s first outing with her, to find a witch responsible for several local bizarre deaths, had led her to an empty warehouse and an abandoned altar. They had’em on the run, but there wasn’t any good clue as to where they went.

Lowell, being the ever-vigilant were-hellhound, sniffed around the altar several times, tail wagging in excitement.

“You got something?” A cheerful bark and a momentary glow of the were-hellhound’s red eyes meant he was about to run for it.

She hated when he ran.

Out the door he bolted like a bat out of…well…, and all Kiwi could do was attempt to stop him.

“Wait up! LOWELL WAIT!” He had gotten two blocks away before he halted, allowed the Hunter to catch up. He sat impatiently, tail flopping in boredom, as he waited for her on the corner.

“Leash laws, Lowell. I told you. I know you hate them, but you’re huge and somebody’s gonna call the cops on you.” Lowell growled as she pulled the leash and line from her bag. “It’s temporary, okay? We’re in the city, they have laws here. How many times must I explain this? I’m not trying to be mean or anything…” Kiwi sighed, and the were-hellhound huffed, poking the leash-baring hand with his nose. “As soon as we can leave, it comes off, okay? You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to.”

The tan leather collar was plain, but stood out amongst the large mass of pitch black fur.He had picked it himself, but it certainly didn’t sit well with him to wear it. Too many bad memories. At least he was going to end the trip with a dead witch; the collar was just a means to an end. No need to alert the local guards.

Her small and agile fingers deftly slipped the collar on and it was only a few moments before she gave a gentle pull, letting him know it was time for him to run again. Nearly yanking Kiwi off her feet, he bolted for a nearby flat.

The witch probably lives a fairly normal life outside of all the murder shenanigans, Kiwi mused. Most monsters have a pretty normal life, really.

She picked a generic name to buzz her in, and they did so after a brief “I left my key inside” line.

Lowell sniffed around, catching a very familiar scent around the second floor. Deviating from the witch’s scent, he poked at Kiwi’s messenger bag. “Hm?”

She opened it, and he quickly pulled out her journal. 

“Oh, you smell something?” He gave a quick nod, and she knelt down to his eye level, slowly opening the book and going through pages. The one he stopped her on surprised him: it was adorned with a brown angel feather.

“…He’s here?” Kiwi looked around. “…We -could- use his help if he doesn’t mind. Lead me to him.”

Jerry Springer offered so little interest to her yet Dalla found herself aimlessly watching the ridiculous staged domestic arguments with Sam purring happily on her lap. 

It was what her usual Sundays consisted of usually but this one seemed particularly unbearable, not even her trusty cat cared much for entertainment today as it watched a spider crawl across the floor with little interest. 

It was the sudden growl coming from her cat which broke Dallas trance, in fact it startled her to see Sam go from Lazy cat to terrified cat in a few seconds. Then the door knocked. Demons. 

It was the only explanation, they’d tracked her down. The human ran to her bedroom and pulled out the loaded shotgun … not that it’s help against demons (but it made her feel safer) and a flask of holy water Gabe had told her to get … just in case. 

Peering through the peep hole she saw a girl, quite small from what she could see but she wasn’t going to be fooled. Demons could possess children and still have the power to kill you.

Lowell sniffed her face, then growled. “Yeah, okay, don’t lick my face. I’m fine.” She stood back up. “Well that went well! Do you think he’s still here?” She knocked again. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we think a friend of ours might be here. We’re just looking to confirm!”

A few cracks and pops emanated from Lowell’s throat as he partially shifted his voicebox to speak. “GABRIEL~”

A friend? No it’s another trick, she’s seen the deceptive nature of demons. They lure you into a false sense of security and then they pounce … that beast most certainly will pounce. 

“I know what you are!” She shouted back whilst trying to control her heart rate. Gabriel’s name was growled through the door, forcing the breath from her lungs. Dalla’s body shivered, he was in trouble. “I know who you’re looking for and he isn’t here! … Leave!”

She knocked on the door again. “I apologize for the inconvenience! Didn’t mean to frighten you, please don’t call the cops! We’re just trying to find a murderer running around here and my partner is not properly socialized.”

Lowell growled at the accusation. “Well, you aren’t! You scared the hell out of her!”

Dalla listened as closely as she could, evaluating their intentions and listening to footsteps. They seemed to be keen on leaving to pursue a witch and so the human’s grip on the gun eased in relief. “What other than a giant dog and tiny woman … no” Nothing out of the ordinary struck her and so nothing worth reporting to the odd pair.

But then they bought up Gabriel. He hadn’t visited her for a while and that was out of the ordinary … usually he’d leave her a sign of some sort. Now she was worried. The more she thought, the worse the scenarios became and Dalla found herself being forced to make a decision. To trust them or not. 

She stood slowly, her gun in her strong yet shaky grip as she approached the door to open it slowly. Her gun pointed between the two as she tried not to fixate on how enormous the beast was. 

“Gabe hasn’t been here for a long time …” she looked between the pair “that’s not like him”. 

“He’s friendly. He just looks scary.” Kiwi smirked, nudging his ribs with the heel of her boot lightly. “Well, unless you’re our witch, which I don’t think you are. Lowell?” She looked down to the were-hellhound, who shook his head from side-to-side in a ‘no’ sort of way. “He says you’re fine, so…yeah.”

Kiwi was bummed to hear the news. “That’s strange…the scent was strong enough for Lowell to pick up. Maybe he’s been here without you knowing?” She shrugged. “Or…maybe…”

Dalla’s eyes shoot back to the girl “Trust me, I’d know if he were here. All my whisky would be gone and they’d be a freezer stocked with ice cream …” She did manage to crack a smile though soon faded at the severity of the situation … it quickly became apparent that Gabe was either injured, or on the run. “Although there was a time he transformed into a kitten … maybe he is here just … not himself” She took a glance around the apartment, feeling her grip loosen on her weapon, it seemed they had a mutual interest … it was enough to keep herself alive for now.

Kiwi pursed her lips as Dalla mentioned him ‘not being himself’. “Yeah, well…” She flipped through her phone, finding the archived voicemail. She held up the phone, displaying an unknown caller. “I got this three or so years ago, I guess you didn’t get it.”

She hit the play button, and the recording was filled with white noise and distortions as Gabriel’s voice spoke with a vibrant but short echo in its projection, as if speaking through the world’s quietest megaphone.

“Hey, whoever is getting this; I don’t kno-………-rs I’ve remembered, but here goes. They po-………-dio back on, so…” A deep exhale, a quick sucking in of breath, then he continued. “Things have gotten real bad. If y-…………-ee me, just run. I can’t be held res-…-ble for anything, o-..-y? Same for the suits. If you see Cast-………….-ive him too, okay? It’s what you do best, heh…”

A heavy static sounded for several moments, then Gabriel’s voice called out again, although mildly strained.

“Hide. Run. Wait for me t-……-ll again. Please?”

More static hissed and grew in loudness until it clicked off, ending the recording.

“Haven’t gotten a call since.” Lowell looked down as Kiwi sighed.

The hunter presented her with a voicemail, clearly Gabriel and clearly he was in trouble. Her eyes widened and heart began to sink and pound simultaneous. “Three years ago you got this! And you did nothing!” Dalla snapped, her mind wandered into dark territory, what had happened to him? was he even alive? Was he still in danger?. “We need to find him” The human stated and ran back in to fetch her coat.

“The only lead we have is your house! Where else would we look? This is the only real break in finding him I’ve had, next to the Horn Incidents.”

“She on the move, Lowell?” Kiwi looked around, then at Dalla. “That rock salt in that shotgun? We could use an extra hand if it’s given. This one’s killed off five people in the last three days; couldn’t hurt to have somebody else to pop her fast.”

“Summoning spells? praying to him … or Castiel … he spoke of him often, even those hunter brothers … you had plenty of options!” Dalla was struggling to control her frustration now and so backed down, she wasn’t going to do herself any good or Gabes by making another enemy. 

Before she could apologise the beast began to growl once again, it’d caught someone’s scent. Thid wasn’t the most appropriate time to be gettiing involved with witch hunts but Dalla could think of no other way of getting to Gabe otherwise. With a deep sigh she nodded slowly “Yeah, Himalayan rock salt, I’ve got shells too …”. 

“I’ve spoken with Sam Winchester; he asked me to keep an eye out for any more Horn sightings. Luckily not in two and a half years. But frankly, I took his, and Gabriel’s, advice to stay back after all the body piles that kept popping up around the Horn sigils. I didn’t wanna end up in any of those piles like those people, or angels, or whoever they were before some angel burned them up from the inside out. If you didn’t get Gabriel in your house, at least at that time, you were lucky. It looks like he’s been here recently enough to have left a trail, anyways. You get any other visitors besides myself recently?”

“Well, if she’s summoned any friends, you can kill them. If she’s alone, you can stun her.”

Kiwi sighed deeply; whatever kind of relationship Dalla had with Gabriel, it was very close. Was she a…? Kiwi shook her head, trying not to think of it. Lowell’s nose was very strong; even if Dalla was…she probably didn’t smell the same to him.

“I promise we’ll at least try to help you find Gabriel after we end this witch. Gabriel has at least 100,000 years on us apiece when it comes to knowing how to stay hidden, so we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

A reminder popped up in her brain and she flinched, looking up at the sky through a nearby window. The moon was nearly full in the cloudy sky. Kiwi huffed, then looked back to Dalla. “Uh…we’ll need a short break tomorrow night, unfortunately. Then you’ll only have me for a while, but then we’ll both be able to help for a few more days before we need another short break….but then we’ve got enough month of non-stop helping.”

She turned to Lowell. “I take it you’re gonna wanna head to a park nearby tomorrow night?”

Lowell looked back at her, the glow in his eyes fading for a moment before giving a heavy tail wag and an affirmative head gesture.

“Friends? … you mean Demons? Ghosts?” She queried, Dalla needed some kind of preparation “I’m not like you, I’m not a hunter … I’m going to need a little more information”.

Kiwi’s promise was sincere and it was greatly appreciated, with a brief yet genuine smile she nodded “Thank you”.

“He is good at hiding” Dalla admitted whilst peering though the side streets they passed, her grip tightening on her shot gun. “I know a few places though …”

Kiwi shook her head. “Forgot, sorry...” She smirked for a moment. “Probably a demon friend, or a hellhound.” She ruffled the fur atop Lowell’s head. “But Lowell can handle one of those if they’re around, right? Because if she did, only you could see it.” Lowell shook his head affirmatively.

Dalla’s demand for an explanation caused Kiwi to go stiff, then look at Lowell. Lowell looked back at her, then huffed and looked down, grumbling.

“Oh great, now what?”

This hunt has been a bust for Kiwi. Lowell’s first outing with her, to find a witch responsible for several local bizarre deaths, had led her to an empty warehouse and an abandoned altar. They had’em on the run, but there wasn’t any good clue as to where they went.

Lowell, being the ever-vigilant were-hellhound, sniffed around the altar several times, tail wagging in excitement.

“You got something?” A cheerful bark and a momentary glow of the were-hellhound’s red eyes meant he was about to run for it.

She hated when he ran.

Out the door he bolted like a bat out of…well…, and all Kiwi could do was attempt to stop him.

“Wait up! LOWELL WAIT!” He had gotten two blocks away before he halted, allowed the Hunter to catch up. He sat impatiently, tail flopping in boredom, as he waited for her on the corner.

“Leash laws, Lowell. I told you. I know you hate them, but you’re huge and somebody’s gonna call the cops on you.” Lowell growled as she pulled the leash and line from her bag. “It’s temporary, okay? We’re in the city, they have laws here. How many times must I explain this? I’m not trying to be mean or anything…” Kiwi sighed, and the were-hellhound huffed, poking the leash-baring hand with his nose. “As soon as we can leave, it comes off, okay? You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to.”

The tan leather collar was plain, but stood out amongst the large mass of pitch black fur.He had picked it himself, but it certainly didn’t sit well with him to wear it. Too many bad memories. At least he was going to end the trip with a dead witch; the collar was just a means to an end. No need to alert the local guards.

Her small and agile fingers deftly slipped the collar on and it was only a few moments before she gave a gentle pull, letting him know it was time for him to run again. Nearly yanking Kiwi off her feet, he bolted for a nearby flat.

The witch probably lives a fairly normal life outside of all the murder shenanigans, Kiwi mused. Most monsters have a pretty normal life, really.

She picked a generic name to buzz her in, and they did so after a brief “I left my key inside” line.

Lowell sniffed around, catching a very familiar scent around the second floor. Deviating from the witch’s scent, he poked at Kiwi’s messenger bag. “Hm?”

She opened it, and he quickly pulled out her journal. 

“Oh, you smell something?” He gave a quick nod, and she knelt down to his eye level, slowly opening the book and going through pages. The one he stopped her on surprised him: it was adorned with a brown angel feather.

“…He’s here?” Kiwi looked around. “…We -could- use his help if he doesn’t mind. Lead me to him.”

Jerry Springer offered so little interest to her yet Dalla found herself aimlessly watching the ridiculous staged domestic arguments with Sam purring happily on her lap. 

It was what her usual Sundays consisted of usually but this one seemed particularly unbearable, not even her trusty cat cared much for entertainment today as it watched a spider crawl across the floor with little interest. 

It was the sudden growl coming from her cat which broke Dallas trance, in fact it startled her to see Sam go from Lazy cat to terrified cat in a few seconds. Then the door knocked. Demons. 

It was the only explanation, they’d tracked her down. The human ran to her bedroom and pulled out the loaded shotgun … not that it’s help against demons (but it made her feel safer) and a flask of holy water Gabe had told her to get … just in case. 

Peering through the peep hole she saw a girl, quite small from what she could see but she wasn’t going to be fooled. Demons could possess children and still have the power to kill you.

Lowell sniffed her face, then growled. “Yeah, okay, don’t lick my face. I’m fine.” She stood back up. “Well that went well! Do you think he’s still here?” She knocked again. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we think a friend of ours might be here. We’re just looking to confirm!”

A few cracks and pops emanated from Lowell’s throat as he partially shifted his voicebox to speak. “GABRIEL~”

A friend? No it’s another trick, she’s seen the deceptive nature of demons. They lure you into a false sense of security and then they pounce … that beast most certainly will pounce. 

“I know what you are!” She shouted back whilst trying to control her heart rate. Gabriel’s name was growled through the door, forcing the breath from her lungs. Dalla’s body shivered, he was in trouble. “I know who you’re looking for and he isn’t here! … Leave!”

She knocked on the door again. “I apologize for the inconvenience! Didn’t mean to frighten you, please don’t call the cops! We’re just trying to find a murderer running around here and my partner is not properly socialized.”

Lowell growled at the accusation. “Well, you aren’t! You scared the hell out of her!”

Dalla listened as closely as she could, evaluating their intentions and listening to footsteps. They seemed to be keen on leaving to pursue a witch and so the human’s grip on the gun eased in relief. “What other than a giant dog and tiny woman … no” Nothing out of the ordinary struck her and so nothing worth reporting to the odd pair.

But then they bought up Gabriel. He hadn’t visited her for a while and that was out of the ordinary … usually he’d leave her a sign of some sort. Now she was worried. The more she thought, the worse the scenarios became and Dalla found herself being forced to make a decision. To trust them or not. 

She stood slowly, her gun in her strong yet shaky grip as she approached the door to open it slowly. Her gun pointed between the two as she tried not to fixate on how enormous the beast was. 

“Gabe hasn’t been here for a long time …” she looked between the pair “that’s not like him”. 

“He’s friendly. He just looks scary.” Kiwi smirked, nudging his ribs with the heel of her boot lightly. “Well, unless you’re our witch, which I don’t think you are. Lowell?” She looked down to the were-hellhound, who shook his head from side-to-side in a ‘no’ sort of way. “He says you’re fine, so…yeah.”

Kiwi was bummed to hear the news. “That’s strange…the scent was strong enough for Lowell to pick up. Maybe he’s been here without you knowing?” She shrugged. “Or…maybe…”

Dalla’s eyes shoot back to the girl “Trust me, I’d know if he were here. All my whisky would be gone and they’d be a freezer stocked with ice cream …” She did manage to crack a smile though soon faded at the severity of the situation … it quickly became apparent that Gabe was either injured, or on the run. “Although there was a time he transformed into a kitten … maybe he is here just … not himself” She took a glance around the apartment, feeling her grip loosen on her weapon, it seemed they had a mutual interest … it was enough to keep herself alive for now.

Kiwi pursed her lips as Dalla mentioned him ‘not being himself’. “Yeah, well…” She flipped through her phone, finding the archived voicemail. She held up the phone, displaying an unknown caller. “I got this three or so years ago, I guess you didn’t get it.”

She hit the play button, and the recording was filled with white noise and distortions as Gabriel’s voice spoke with a vibrant but short echo in its projection, as if speaking through the world’s quietest megaphone.

“Hey, whoever is getting this; I don’t kno-………-rs I’ve remembered, but here goes. They po-………-dio back on, so…” A deep exhale, a quick sucking in of breath, then he continued. “Things have gotten real bad. If y-…………-ee me, just run. I can’t be held res-…-ble for anything, o-..-y? Same for the suits. If you see Cast-………….-ive him too, okay? It’s what you do best, heh…”

A heavy static sounded for several moments, then Gabriel’s voice called out again, although mildly strained.

“Hide. Run. Wait for me t-……-ll again. Please?”

More static hissed and grew in loudness until it clicked off, ending the recording.

“Haven’t gotten a call since.” Lowell looked down as Kiwi sighed.

The hunter presented her with a voicemail, clearly Gabriel and clearly he was in trouble. Her eyes widened and heart began to sink and pound simultaneous. “Three years ago you got this! And you did nothing!” Dalla snapped, her mind wandered into dark territory, what had happened to him? was he even alive? Was he still in danger?. “We need to find him” The human stated and ran back in to fetch her coat.

“The only lead we have is your house! Where else would we look? This is the only real break in finding him I’ve had, next to the Horn Incidents.”

“She on the move, Lowell?” Kiwi looked around, then at Dalla. “That rock salt in that shotgun? We could use an extra hand if it’s given. This one’s killed off five people in the last three days; couldn’t hurt to have somebody else to pop her fast.”

“Summoning spells? praying to him … or Castiel … he spoke of him often, even those hunter brothers … you had plenty of options!” Dalla was struggling to control her frustration now and so backed down, she wasn’t going to do herself any good or Gabes by making another enemy. 

Before she could apologise the beast began to growl once again, it’d caught someone’s scent. Thid wasn’t the most appropriate time to be gettiing involved with witch hunts but Dalla could think of no other way of getting to Gabe otherwise. With a deep sigh she nodded slowly “Yeah, Himalayan rock salt, I’ve got shells too …”. 

“I’ve spoken with Sam Winchester; he asked me to keep an eye out for any more Horn sightings. Luckily not in two and a half years. But frankly, I took his, and Gabriel’s, advice to stay back after all the body piles that kept popping up around the Horn sigils. I didn’t wanna end up in any of those piles like those people, or angels, or whoever they were before some angel burned them up from the inside out. If you didn’t get Gabriel in your house, at least at that time, you were lucky. It looks like he’s been here recently enough to have left a trail, anyways. You get any other visitors besides myself recently?”

“Well, if she’s summoned any friends, you can kill them. If she’s alone, you can stun her.”

Kiwi sighed deeply; whatever kind of relationship Dalla had with Gabriel, it was very close. Was she a...? Kiwi shook her head, trying not to think of it. Lowell’s nose was very strong; even if Dalla was...she probably didn’t smell the same to him.

“I promise we’ll at least try to help you find Gabriel after we end this witch. Gabriel has at least 100,000 years on us apiece when it comes to knowing how to stay hidden, so we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

A reminder popped up in her brain and she flinched, looking up at the sky through a nearby window. The moon was nearly full in the cloudy sky. Kiwi huffed, then looked back to Dalla. “Uh...we’ll need a short break tomorrow night, unfortunately. Then you’ll only have me for a while, but then we’ll both be able to help for a few more days before we need another short break....but then we’ve got enough month of non-stop helping.”

She turned to Lowell. “I take it you’re gonna wanna head to a park nearby tomorrow night?”

Lowell looked back at her, the glow in his eyes fading for a moment before giving a heavy tail wag and an affirmative head gesture.

“Oh great, now what?”

This hunt has been a bust for Kiwi. Lowell’s first outing with her, to find a witch responsible for several local bizarre deaths, had led her to an empty warehouse and an abandoned altar. They had’em on the run, but there wasn’t any good clue as to where they went.

Lowell, being the ever-vigilant were-hellhound, sniffed around the altar several times, tail wagging in excitement.

“You got something?” A cheerful bark and a momentary glow of the were-hellhound’s red eyes meant he was about to run for it.

She hated when he ran.

Out the door he bolted like a bat out of…well…, and all Kiwi could do was attempt to stop him.

“Wait up! LOWELL WAIT!” He had gotten two blocks away before he halted, allowed the Hunter to catch up. He sat impatiently, tail flopping in boredom, as he waited for her on the corner.

“Leash laws, Lowell. I told you. I know you hate them, but you’re huge and somebody’s gonna call the cops on you.” Lowell growled as she pulled the leash and line from her bag. “It’s temporary, okay? We’re in the city, they have laws here. How many times must I explain this? I’m not trying to be mean or anything…” Kiwi sighed, and the were-hellhound huffed, poking the leash-baring hand with his nose. “As soon as we can leave, it comes off, okay? You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to.”

The tan leather collar was plain, but stood out amongst the large mass of pitch black fur.He had picked it himself, but it certainly didn’t sit well with him to wear it. Too many bad memories. At least he was going to end the trip with a dead witch; the collar was just a means to an end. No need to alert the local guards.

Her small and agile fingers deftly slipped the collar on and it was only a few moments before she gave a gentle pull, letting him know it was time for him to run again. Nearly yanking Kiwi off her feet, he bolted for a nearby flat.

The witch probably lives a fairly normal life outside of all the murder shenanigans, Kiwi mused. Most monsters have a pretty normal life, really.

She picked a generic name to buzz her in, and they did so after a brief “I left my key inside” line.

Lowell sniffed around, catching a very familiar scent around the second floor. Deviating from the witch’s scent, he poked at Kiwi’s messenger bag. “Hm?”

She opened it, and he quickly pulled out her journal. 

“Oh, you smell something?” He gave a quick nod, and she knelt down to his eye level, slowly opening the book and going through pages. The one he stopped her on surprised him: it was adorned with a brown angel feather.

“…He’s here?” Kiwi looked around. “…We -could- use his help if he doesn’t mind. Lead me to him.”

Jerry Springer offered so little interest to her yet Dalla found herself aimlessly watching the ridiculous staged domestic arguments with Sam purring happily on her lap. 

It was what her usual Sundays consisted of usually but this one seemed particularly unbearable, not even her trusty cat cared much for entertainment today as it watched a spider crawl across the floor with little interest. 

It was the sudden growl coming from her cat which broke Dallas trance, in fact it startled her to see Sam go from Lazy cat to terrified cat in a few seconds. Then the door knocked. Demons. 

It was the only explanation, they’d tracked her down. The human ran to her bedroom and pulled out the loaded shotgun … not that it’s help against demons (but it made her feel safer) and a flask of holy water Gabe had told her to get … just in case. 

Peering through the peep hole she saw a girl, quite small from what she could see but she wasn’t going to be fooled. Demons could possess children and still have the power to kill you.

Lowell sniffed her face, then growled. “Yeah, okay, don’t lick my face. I’m fine.” She stood back up. “Well that went well! Do you think he’s still here?” She knocked again. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we think a friend of ours might be here. We’re just looking to confirm!”

A few cracks and pops emanated from Lowell’s throat as he partially shifted his voicebox to speak. “GABRIEL~”

A friend? No it’s another trick, she’s seen the deceptive nature of demons. They lure you into a false sense of security and then they pounce … that beast most certainly will pounce. 

“I know what you are!” She shouted back whilst trying to control her heart rate. Gabriel’s name was growled through the door, forcing the breath from her lungs. Dalla’s body shivered, he was in trouble. “I know who you’re looking for and he isn’t here! … Leave!”

She knocked on the door again. “I apologize for the inconvenience! Didn’t mean to frighten you, please don’t call the cops! We’re just trying to find a murderer running around here and my partner is not properly socialized.”

Lowell growled at the accusation. “Well, you aren’t! You scared the hell out of her!”

Dalla listened as closely as she could, evaluating their intentions and listening to footsteps. They seemed to be keen on leaving to pursue a witch and so the human’s grip on the gun eased in relief. “What other than a giant dog and tiny woman … no” Nothing out of the ordinary struck her and so nothing worth reporting to the odd pair.

But then they bought up Gabriel. He hadn’t visited her for a while and that was out of the ordinary … usually he’d leave her a sign of some sort. Now she was worried. The more she thought, the worse the scenarios became and Dalla found herself being forced to make a decision. To trust them or not. 

She stood slowly, her gun in her strong yet shaky grip as she approached the door to open it slowly. Her gun pointed between the two as she tried not to fixate on how enormous the beast was. 

“Gabe hasn’t been here for a long time …” she looked between the pair “that’s not like him”. 

“He’s friendly. He just looks scary.” Kiwi smirked, nudging his ribs with the heel of her boot lightly. “Well, unless you’re our witch, which I don’t think you are. Lowell?” She looked down to the were-hellhound, who shook his head from side-to-side in a ‘no’ sort of way. “He says you’re fine, so…yeah.”

Kiwi was bummed to hear the news. “That’s strange…the scent was strong enough for Lowell to pick up. Maybe he’s been here without you knowing?” She shrugged. “Or…maybe…”

Dalla’s eyes shoot back to the girl “Trust me, I’d know if he were here. All my whisky would be gone and they’d be a freezer stocked with ice cream …” She did manage to crack a smile though soon faded at the severity of the situation … it quickly became apparent that Gabe was either injured, or on the run. “Although there was a time he transformed into a kitten … maybe he is here just … not himself” She took a glance around the apartment, feeling her grip loosen on her weapon, it seemed they had a mutual interest … it was enough to keep herself alive for now.

Kiwi pursed her lips as Dalla mentioned him ‘not being himself’. “Yeah, well…” She flipped through her phone, finding the archived voicemail. She held up the phone, displaying an unknown caller. “I got this three or so years ago, I guess you didn’t get it.”

She hit the play button, and the recording was filled with white noise and distortions as Gabriel’s voice spoke with a vibrant but short echo in its projection, as if speaking through the world’s quietest megaphone.

“Hey, whoever is getting this; I don’t kno-………-rs I’ve remembered, but here goes. They po-………-dio back on, so…” A deep exhale, a quick sucking in of breath, then he continued. “Things have gotten real bad. If y-…………-ee me, just run. I can’t be held res-…-ble for anything, o-..-y? Same for the suits. If you see Cast-………….-ive him too, okay? It’s what you do best, heh…”

A heavy static sounded for several moments, then Gabriel’s voice called out again, although mildly strained.

“Hide. Run. Wait for me t-……-ll again. Please?”

More static hissed and grew in loudness until it clicked off, ending the recording.

“Haven’t gotten a call since.” Lowell looked down as Kiwi sighed.

The hunter presented her with a voicemail, clearly Gabriel and clearly he was in trouble. Her eyes widened and heart began to sink and pound simultaneous. “Three years ago you got this! And you did nothing!” Dalla snapped, her mind wandered into dark territory, what had happened to him? was he even alive? Was he still in danger?. “We need to find him” The human stated and ran back in to fetch her coat.

“The only lead we have is your house! Where else would we look? This is the only real break in finding him I’ve had, next to the Horn Incidents.”

“She on the move, Lowell?” Kiwi looked around, then at Dalla. “That rock salt in that shotgun? We could use an extra hand if it’s given. This one’s killed off five people in the last three days; couldn’t hurt to have somebody else to pop her fast.”

“Oh great, now what?”

This hunt has been a bust for Kiwi. Lowell’s first outing with her, to find a witch responsible for several local bizarre deaths, had led her to an empty warehouse and an abandoned altar. They had’em on the run, but there wasn’t any good clue as to where they went.

Lowell, being the ever-vigilant were-hellhound, sniffed around the altar several times, tail wagging in excitement.

“You got something?” A cheerful bark and a momentary glow of the were-hellhound’s red eyes meant he was about to run for it.

She hated when he ran.

Out the door he bolted like a bat out of…well…, and all Kiwi could do was attempt to stop him.

“Wait up! LOWELL WAIT!” He had gotten two blocks away before he halted, allowed the Hunter to catch up. He sat impatiently, tail flopping in boredom, as he waited for her on the corner.

“Leash laws, Lowell. I told you. I know you hate them, but you’re huge and somebody’s gonna call the cops on you.” Lowell growled as she pulled the leash and line from her bag. “It’s temporary, okay? We’re in the city, they have laws here. How many times must I explain this? I’m not trying to be mean or anything…” Kiwi sighed, and the were-hellhound huffed, poking the leash-baring hand with his nose. “As soon as we can leave, it comes off, okay? You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to.”

The tan leather collar was plain, but stood out amongst the large mass of pitch black fur.He had picked it himself, but it certainly didn’t sit well with him to wear it. Too many bad memories. At least he was going to end the trip with a dead witch; the collar was just a means to an end. No need to alert the local guards.

Her small and agile fingers deftly slipped the collar on and it was only a few moments before she gave a gentle pull, letting him know it was time for him to run again. Nearly yanking Kiwi off her feet, he bolted for a nearby flat.

The witch probably lives a fairly normal life outside of all the murder shenanigans, Kiwi mused. Most monsters have a pretty normal life, really.

She picked a generic name to buzz her in, and they did so after a brief “I left my key inside” line.

Lowell sniffed around, catching a very familiar scent around the second floor. Deviating from the witch’s scent, he poked at Kiwi’s messenger bag. “Hm?”

She opened it, and he quickly pulled out her journal. 

“Oh, you smell something?” He gave a quick nod, and she knelt down to his eye level, slowly opening the book and going through pages. The one he stopped her on surprised him: it was adorned with a brown angel feather.

“…He’s here?” Kiwi looked around. “…We -could- use his help if he doesn’t mind. Lead me to him.”

Jerry Springer offered so little interest to her yet Dalla found herself aimlessly watching the ridiculous staged domestic arguments with Sam purring happily on her lap. 

It was what her usual Sundays consisted of usually but this one seemed particularly unbearable, not even her trusty cat cared much for entertainment today as it watched a spider crawl across the floor with little interest. 

It was the sudden growl coming from her cat which broke Dallas trance, in fact it startled her to see Sam go from Lazy cat to terrified cat in a few seconds. Then the door knocked. Demons. 

It was the only explanation, they’d tracked her down. The human ran to her bedroom and pulled out the loaded shotgun … not that it’s help against demons (but it made her feel safer) and a flask of holy water Gabe had told her to get … just in case. 

Peering through the peep hole she saw a girl, quite small from what she could see but she wasn’t going to be fooled. Demons could possess children and still have the power to kill you.

Lowell sniffed her face, then growled. “Yeah, okay, don’t lick my face. I’m fine.” She stood back up. “Well that went well! Do you think he’s still here?” She knocked again. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we think a friend of ours might be here. We’re just looking to confirm!”

A few cracks and pops emanated from Lowell’s throat as he partially shifted his voicebox to speak. “GABRIEL~”

A friend? No it’s another trick, she’s seen the deceptive nature of demons. They lure you into a false sense of security and then they pounce … that beast most certainly will pounce. 

“I know what you are!” She shouted back whilst trying to control her heart rate. Gabriel’s name was growled through the door, forcing the breath from her lungs. Dalla’s body shivered, he was in trouble. “I know who you’re looking for and he isn’t here! … Leave!”

She knocked on the door again. “I apologize for the inconvenience! Didn’t mean to frighten you, please don’t call the cops! We’re just trying to find a murderer running around here and my partner is not properly socialized.”

Lowell growled at the accusation. “Well, you aren’t! You scared the hell out of her!”

Dalla listened as closely as she could, evaluating their intentions and listening to footsteps. They seemed to be keen on leaving to pursue a witch and so the human’s grip on the gun eased in relief. “What other than a giant dog and tiny woman … no” Nothing out of the ordinary struck her and so nothing worth reporting to the odd pair.

But then they bought up Gabriel. He hadn’t visited her for a while and that was out of the ordinary … usually he’d leave her a sign of some sort. Now she was worried. The more she thought, the worse the scenarios became and Dalla found herself being forced to make a decision. To trust them or not. 

She stood slowly, her gun in her strong yet shaky grip as she approached the door to open it slowly. Her gun pointed between the two as she tried not to fixate on how enormous the beast was. 

“Gabe hasn’t been here for a long time …” she looked between the pair “that’s not like him”. 

“He’s friendly. He just looks scary.” Kiwi smirked, nudging his ribs with the heel of her boot lightly. “Well, unless you’re our witch, which I don’t think you are. Lowell?” She looked down to the were-hellhound, who shook his head from side-to-side in a ‘no’ sort of way. “He says you’re fine, so…yeah.”

Kiwi was bummed to hear the news. “That’s strange…the scent was strong enough for Lowell to pick up. Maybe he’s been here without you knowing?” She shrugged. “Or…maybe…”

Dalla’s eyes shoot back to the girl “Trust me, I’d know if he were here. All my whisky would be gone and they’d be a freezer stocked with ice cream …” She did manage to crack a smile though soon faded at the severity of the situation … it quickly became apparent that Gabe was either injured, or on the run. “Although there was a time he transformed into a kitten … maybe he is here just … not himself” She took a glance around the apartment, feeling her grip loosen on her weapon, it seemed they had a mutual interest … it was enough to keep herself alive for now.

Kiwi pursed her lips as Dalla mentioned him ‘not being himself’. “Yeah, well...” She flipped through her phone, finding the archived voicemail. She held up the phone, displaying an unknown caller. “I got this three or so years ago, I guess you didn’t get it.”

She hit the play button, and the recording was filled with white noise and distortions as Gabriel’s voice spoke with a vibrant but short echo in its projection, as if speaking through the world’s quietest megaphone.

“Hey, whoever is getting this; I don’t kno-.........-rs I’ve remembered, but here goes. They po-.........-dio back on, so...” A deep exhale, a quick sucking in of breath, then he continued. “Things have gotten real bad. If y-............-ee me, just run. I can’t be held res-...-ble for anything, o-..-y? Same for the suits. If you see Cast-.............-ive him too, okay? It’s what you do best, heh...”

A heavy static sounded for several moments, then Gabriel’s voice called out again, although mildly strained.

“Hide. Run. Wait for me t-......-ll again. Please?”

More static hissed and grew in loudness until it clicked off, ending the recording.

“Haven’t gotten a call since.” Lowell looked down as Kiwi sighed.

Bladedancers and Stormcallers are no longer permitted to activate their abilities on Tower premises

Electrical burns are almost impossible to remove

“Oh great, now what?”

This hunt has been a bust for Kiwi. Lowell’s first outing with her, to find a witch responsible for several local bizarre deaths, had led her to an empty warehouse and an abandoned altar. They had’em on the run, but there wasn’t any good clue as to where they went.

Lowell, being the ever-vigilant were-hellhound, sniffed around the altar several times, tail wagging in excitement.

“You got something?” A cheerful bark and a momentary glow of the were-hellhound’s red eyes meant he was about to run for it.

She hated when he ran.

Out the door he bolted like a bat out of…well…, and all Kiwi could do was attempt to stop him.

“Wait up! LOWELL WAIT!” He had gotten two blocks away before he halted, allowed the Hunter to catch up. He sat impatiently, tail flopping in boredom, as he waited for her on the corner.

“Leash laws, Lowell. I told you. I know you hate them, but you’re huge and somebody’s gonna call the cops on you.” Lowell growled as she pulled the leash and line from her bag. “It’s temporary, okay? We’re in the city, they have laws here. How many times must I explain this? I’m not trying to be mean or anything…” Kiwi sighed, and the were-hellhound huffed, poking the leash-baring hand with his nose. “As soon as we can leave, it comes off, okay? You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to.”

The tan leather collar was plain, but stood out amongst the large mass of pitch black fur.He had picked it himself, but it certainly didn’t sit well with him to wear it. Too many bad memories. At least he was going to end the trip with a dead witch; the collar was just a means to an end. No need to alert the local guards.

Her small and agile fingers deftly slipped the collar on and it was only a few moments before she gave a gentle pull, letting him know it was time for him to run again. Nearly yanking Kiwi off her feet, he bolted for a nearby flat.

The witch probably lives a fairly normal life outside of all the murder shenanigans, Kiwi mused. Most monsters have a pretty normal life, really.

She picked a generic name to buzz her in, and they did so after a brief “I left my key inside” line.

Lowell sniffed around, catching a very familiar scent around the second floor. Deviating from the witch’s scent, he poked at Kiwi’s messenger bag. “Hm?”

She opened it, and he quickly pulled out her journal. 

“Oh, you smell something?” He gave a quick nod, and she knelt down to his eye level, slowly opening the book and going through pages. The one he stopped her on surprised him: it was adorned with a brown angel feather.

“…He’s here?” Kiwi looked around. “…We -could- use his help if he doesn’t mind. Lead me to him.”

Jerry Springer offered so little interest to her yet Dalla found herself aimlessly watching the ridiculous staged domestic arguments with Sam purring happily on her lap. 

It was what her usual Sundays consisted of usually but this one seemed particularly unbearable, not even her trusty cat cared much for entertainment today as it watched a spider crawl across the floor with little interest. 

It was the sudden growl coming from her cat which broke Dallas trance, in fact it startled her to see Sam go from Lazy cat to terrified cat in a few seconds. Then the door knocked. Demons. 

It was the only explanation, they’d tracked her down. The human ran to her bedroom and pulled out the loaded shotgun … not that it’s help against demons (but it made her feel safer) and a flask of holy water Gabe had told her to get … just in case. 

Peering through the peep hole she saw a girl, quite small from what she could see but she wasn’t going to be fooled. Demons could possess children and still have the power to kill you.

Lowell sniffed her face, then growled. “Yeah, okay, don’t lick my face. I’m fine.” She stood back up. “Well that went well! Do you think he’s still here?” She knocked again. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we think a friend of ours might be here. We’re just looking to confirm!”

A few cracks and pops emanated from Lowell’s throat as he partially shifted his voicebox to speak. “GABRIEL~”

A friend? No it’s another trick, she’s seen the deceptive nature of demons. They lure you into a false sense of security and then they pounce … that beast most certainly will pounce. 

“I know what you are!” She shouted back whilst trying to control her heart rate. Gabriel’s name was growled through the door, forcing the breath from her lungs. Dalla’s body shivered, he was in trouble. “I know who you’re looking for and he isn’t here! … Leave!”

She knocked on the door again. “I apologize for the inconvenience! Didn’t mean to frighten you, please don’t call the cops! We’re just trying to find a murderer running around here and my partner is not properly socialized.”

Lowell growled at the accusation. “Well, you aren’t! You scared the hell out of her!”

Dalla listened as closely as she could, evaluating their intentions and listening to footsteps. They seemed to be keen on leaving to pursue a witch and so the human’s grip on the gun eased in relief. “What other than a giant dog and tiny woman … no” Nothing out of the ordinary struck her and so nothing worth reporting to the odd pair.

But then they bought up Gabriel. He hadn’t visited her for a while and that was out of the ordinary … usually he’d leave her a sign of some sort. Now she was worried. The more she thought, the worse the scenarios became and Dalla found herself being forced to make a decision. To trust them or not. 

She stood slowly, her gun in her strong yet shaky grip as she approached the door to open it slowly. Her gun pointed between the two as she tried not to fixate on how enormous the beast was. 

“Gabe hasn’t been here for a long time …” she looked between the pair “that’s not like him”. 

“He’s friendly. He just looks scary.” Kiwi smirked, nudging his ribs with the heel of her boot lightly. “Well, unless you’re our witch, which I don’t think you are. Lowell?” She looked down to the were-hellhound, who shook his head from side-to-side in a ‘no’ sort of way. “He says you’re fine, so...yeah.”

Kiwi was bummed to hear the news. “That’s strange...the scent was strong enough for Lowell to pick up. Maybe he’s been here without you knowing?” She shrugged. “Or...maybe...”

“Oh great, now what?”

This hunt has been a bust for Kiwi. Lowell’s first outing with her, to find a witch responsible for several local bizarre deaths, had led her to an empty warehouse and an abandoned altar. They had’em on the run, but there wasn’t any good clue as to where they went.

Lowell, being the ever-vigilant were-hellhound, sniffed around the altar several times, tail wagging in excitement.

“You got something?” A cheerful bark and a momentary glow of the were-hellhound’s red eyes meant he was about to run for it.

She hated when he ran.

Out the door he bolted like a bat out of…well…, and all Kiwi could do was attempt to stop him.

“Wait up! LOWELL WAIT!” He had gotten two blocks away before he halted, allowed the Hunter to catch up. He sat impatiently, tail flopping in boredom, as he waited for her on the corner.

“Leash laws, Lowell. I told you. I know you hate them, but you’re huge and somebody’s gonna call the cops on you.” Lowell growled as she pulled the leash and line from her bag. “It’s temporary, okay? We’re in the city, they have laws here. How many times must I explain this? I’m not trying to be mean or anything…” Kiwi sighed, and the were-hellhound huffed, poking the leash-baring hand with his nose. “As soon as we can leave, it comes off, okay? You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to.”

The tan leather collar was plain, but stood out amongst the large mass of pitch black fur.He had picked it himself, but it certainly didn’t sit well with him to wear it. Too many bad memories. At least he was going to end the trip with a dead witch; the collar was just a means to an end. No need to alert the local guards.

Her small and agile fingers deftly slipped the collar on and it was only a few moments before she gave a gentle pull, letting him know it was time for him to run again. Nearly yanking Kiwi off her feet, he bolted for a nearby flat.

The witch probably lives a fairly normal life outside of all the murder shenanigans, Kiwi mused. Most monsters have a pretty normal life, really.

She picked a generic name to buzz her in, and they did so after a brief “I left my key inside” line.

Lowell sniffed around, catching a very familiar scent around the second floor. Deviating from the witch’s scent, he poked at Kiwi’s messenger bag. “Hm?”

She opened it, and he quickly pulled out her journal. 

“Oh, you smell something?” He gave a quick nod, and she knelt down to his eye level, slowly opening the book and going through pages. The one he stopped her on surprised him: it was adorned with a brown angel feather.

“…He’s here?” Kiwi looked around. “…We -could- use his help if he doesn’t mind. Lead me to him.”

Jerry Springer offered so little interest to her yet Dalla found herself aimlessly watching the ridiculous staged domestic arguments with Sam purring happily on her lap. 

It was what her usual Sundays consisted of usually but this one seemed particularly unbearable, not even her trusty cat cared much for entertainment today as it watched a spider crawl across the floor with little interest. 

It was the sudden growl coming from her cat which broke Dallas trance, in fact it startled her to see Sam go from Lazy cat to terrified cat in a few seconds. Then the door knocked. Demons. 

It was the only explanation, they’d tracked her down. The human ran to her bedroom and pulled out the loaded shotgun … not that it’s help against demons (but it made her feel safer) and a flask of holy water Gabe had told her to get … just in case. 

Peering through the peep hole she saw a girl, quite small from what she could see but she wasn’t going to be fooled. Demons could possess children and still have the power to kill you.

Lowell sniffed her face, then growled. “Yeah, okay, don’t lick my face. I’m fine.” She stood back up. “Well that went well! Do you think he’s still here?” She knocked again. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we think a friend of ours might be here. We’re just looking to confirm!”

A few cracks and pops emanated from Lowell’s throat as he partially shifted his voicebox to speak. “GABRIEL~”

A friend? No it’s another trick, she’s seen the deceptive nature of demons. They lure you into a false sense of security and then they pounce … that beast most certainly will pounce. 

“I know what you are!” She shouted back whilst trying to control her heart rate. Gabriel’s name was growled through the door, forcing the breath from her lungs. Dalla’s body shivered, he was in trouble. “I know who you’re looking for and he isn’t here! … Leave!”

She knocked on the door again. “I apologize for the inconvenience! Didn’t mean to frighten you, please don’t call the cops! We’re just trying to find a murderer running around here and my partner is not properly socialized.”

Lowell growled at the accusation. “Well, you aren’t! You scared the hell out of her!”

“Oh great, now what?”

This hunt has been a bust for Kiwi. Lowell’s first outing with her, to find a witch responsible for several local bizarre deaths, had led her to an empty warehouse and an abandoned altar. They had’em on the run, but there wasn’t any good clue as to where they went.

Lowell, being the ever-vigilant were-hellhound, sniffed around the altar several times, tail wagging in excitement.

“You got something?” A cheerful bark and a momentary glow of the were-hellhound’s red eyes meant he was about to run for it.

She hated when he ran.

Out the door he bolted like a bat out of…well…, and all Kiwi could do was attempt to stop him.

“Wait up! LOWELL WAIT!” He had gotten two blocks away before he halted, allowed the Hunter to catch up. He sat impatiently, tail flopping in boredom, as he waited for her on the corner.

“Leash laws, Lowell. I told you. I know you hate them, but you’re huge and somebody’s gonna call the cops on you.” Lowell growled as she pulled the leash and line from her bag. “It’s temporary, okay? We’re in the city, they have laws here. How many times must I explain this? I’m not trying to be mean or anything…” Kiwi sighed, and the were-hellhound huffed, poking the leash-baring hand with his nose. “As soon as we can leave, it comes off, okay? You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to.”

The tan leather collar was plain, but stood out amongst the large mass of pitch black fur.He had picked it himself, but it certainly didn’t sit well with him to wear it. Too many bad memories. At least he was going to end the trip with a dead witch; the collar was just a means to an end. No need to alert the local guards.

Her small and agile fingers deftly slipped the collar on and it was only a few moments before she gave a gentle pull, letting him know it was time for him to run again. Nearly yanking Kiwi off her feet, he bolted for a nearby flat.

The witch probably lives a fairly normal life outside of all the murder shenanigans, Kiwi mused. Most monsters have a pretty normal life, really.

She picked a generic name to buzz her in, and they did so after a brief “I left my key inside” line.

Lowell sniffed around, catching a very familiar scent around the second floor. Deviating from the witch’s scent, he poked at Kiwi’s messenger bag. “Hm?”

She opened it, and he quickly pulled out her journal. 

“Oh, you smell something?” He gave a quick nod, and she knelt down to his eye level, slowly opening the book and going through pages. The one he stopped her on surprised him: it was adorned with a brown angel feather.

“…He’s here?” Kiwi looked around. “…We -could- use his help if he doesn’t mind. Lead me to him.”

Jerry Springer offered so little interest to her yet Dalla found herself aimlessly watching the ridiculous staged domestic arguments with Sam purring happily on her lap. 

It was what her usual Sundays consisted of usually but this one seemed particularly unbearable, not even her trusty cat cared much for entertainment today as it watched a spider crawl across the floor with little interest. 

It was the sudden growl coming from her cat which broke Dallas trance, in fact it startled her to see Sam go from Lazy cat to terrified cat in a few seconds. Then the door knocked. Demons. 

It was the only explanation, they’d tracked her down. The human ran to her bedroom and pulled out the loaded shotgun … not that it’s help against demons (but it made her feel safer) and a flask of holy water Gabe had told her to get … just in case. 

Peering through the peep hole she saw a girl, quite small from what she could see but she wasn’t going to be fooled. Demons could possess children and still have the power to kill you.

Lowell sniffed her face, then growled. “Yeah, okay, don’t lick my face. I’m fine.” She stood back up. “Well that went well! Do you think he’s still here?” She knocked again. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we think a friend of ours might be here. We’re just looking to confirm!”

A few cracks and pops emanated from Lowell’s throat as he partially shifted his voicebox to speak. “GABRIEL~”