“COPD, drop the weapon and put your hands in the air!” shouted a commanding female voice that Enlil did not recognize. The woman had entered through the door leading to the garage, as he had. She wore a black tactical uniform with ‘COPD’ emblazoned on the chest and was aiming a pistol at his chest. Her eyes were locked on him, and they held a cold fury.

The two young girls, Cassandra and Belle, immediately raised their arms over their heads and hunkered down behind him. He hadn’t been able to find them fitting clothes, unfortunately. Whatever they’d had when they were taken was long gone. Understandably, they’d refused garments from their former captors’ dressers, so each had a small blanket he’d found in a rear closet. Enlil dropped the knife in his left hand obligingly, then reached back with both and patted the girls’ hair reassuringly.

“Fear not, little ones.” he said gently. “The law has arrived.” He made no move towards the police woman, and she kept her distance. “Smart” he thought, approvingly. In his experience law enforcement, and amateur gunmen in general, had a habit of closing in before their position was assured. Something that never made sense to him. What good was a ranged weapon if you got near enough for your opponent to close on you?

“Step away from the girls. Now!” shouted the harsh voice once more. Clearly not her first time issuing such commands. Unfazed, Enlil stood his ground.

“One moment, miss.” he said to the woman, using the same polite tone one might with an unruly child. Then he turned towards the girls, putting his back to her as he squatted down to their level.

Detective Saints, her heartbeat in her ears, watched as the murder suspect she’d tracked down turned towards a pair of defenseless girls. Her adrenaline surged and years of training took over. She would not fail again. Not like last time. She wouldn’t -- couldn’t. A split second later, two quick shots sounded off. At this distance, she couldn’t miss. Not a target as big as this one.

The bullets struck Enlil just above his heart. The pain was sudden and vibrant. Hp, as bad as the pain was, it was fleeting. The wound was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. Gunshots were easier to heal than other wounds he’d received in the past.

Enlil had known she might shoot him when he moved, of course. When she had failed to note his words or partial obedience, he had guessed her too high-strung to do more than arrest him outright. That would not do. There was business to be done first. Cassandra and Belle had a decision to make. One life and three souls awaited their choice.

Behind him were three bodies arranged carefully on the floor. These bodies, along with the dark red, white, and grey splatters around the room, were probably why the female officer was so on edge. The men were lined up along the north-south magnetic axis, head (or what was left) pointing north and feet pointing south. Crimson sigils surrounded each. Only one was breathing, but he was unconscious and bound in yellow electrical cord. He would not be going anywhere. Not until Enlil heard one of two responses, anyway.

Cassandra and Belle looked up at him, eyes full of fear and worry. Belle reached a hand towards him, but he shook his head slightly and she paused.

"I am fine, little one. Make yo--" Enlil's calm voice was interrupted by the officer rushing up behind him.

“Get back girls, I’ll get him.” Detective Saints said as she tried to pull the man she’d just shot twice away from them. He didn’t move, not an inch. Her fierce expression became one of surprise. The man’s arms were like wound steel. She leaned in with her legs and pulled to no avail. Even the extra leverage didn’t help. The man who should be dead turned to look at her.

“A moment if you please.” said the dead man, in the same polite tone he’d used earlier. There were no signs of pain or anger on his face, even though she could see where blood marked the entries of her previous shots. He scrutinized the badge around her neck as she froze.

“Detective… Saints. My name is Enlil. Please. Give us a moment. I am the one who saved Cassandra and Belle.” Enlil continued. The two blankets with heads in front of him gave small nods and he pointed behind him. Saints’ quick eyes noted there were no matching exit wounds to her previous shots, though the man was covered in blood.

“These three are the ones who held them. Their fates will be decided by the ones they imprisoned. If you would let go of my arm now…?” Enlil’s polite tone and inflection made it a question, yet Saints had the distinct feeling that her response wouldn’t change the outcome either way. Still, she let go of his arm and stepped back. Her sidearm returned to one hand. Saints didn’t point it at him, but that didn’t mean she was about to be dismissed.

“Their fates?” She looked over at the men on the ground. One was missing everything north of his neck. The other might as well be, given how torn apart his face was. The last was breathing, but barely. She looked back at the who called himself Enlil. Her brain was still processing that he was talking calmly despite two bullets that should’ve made that at least slightly difficult. It’s possible he had a protective vest on underneath, but…

“Two of them are dead, they already met their fate!” Saints said with incredulity. She grit her teeth and tried another tack. “Unless you’re part of some task force I don’t know about, then you’re under arrest until we figure out what happened here.” She undid the cuffs at her belt with one hand while keeping her pistol trained on him with the other.

Enlil relaxed a bit, he’d been hoping she wouldn’t make him do something they would both regret. And if all she wanted was information... “Oh, you could have said that earlier.” Enlil pointed at the two behind him dismissively. “I killed those two and tied up the other. They appear to be part of a slave trade. I will leave their remains and any investigation to you once I’m finished here.” He returned to the two in front of him as if the matter was finished.

Saints was momentarily baffled. The man had just admitted to two counts of murder as if they were discussing the weather. Did he real-- “Do you… Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” she asked as she tossed the cuffs towards him, backed up, and put both hands on her weapon. “Put those on, you’re under arrest. You can’t just vigilante around without consequences.”

“Detective, I--” Enlil began, but Saints was having none of it. Her response was deadly serious.

“Put them on, now. Or this time, I’ll put the round in your head.” To illustrate her point, she adjusted her aim from his chest to between right his eyes. They were less than five feet apart. Even a child could make that shot.

Enlil sighed. Then he did something neither the two girls nor Saints expected. He ignored the detective pointing a gun at his head completely. Instead, he turned towards Cassandra and Belle once more. “Your answers, if you please.”

The two looked from the detective to the man who had saved them. Then, at one another. Belle spoke up first. “You mean it? You’ll send them… to hell?”

Saint’s felt a shiver go down her back. She’d been chasing what the department believed to be a group of crazed cultists all over town. She’d seen strange symbols, a flaming pit in the ground, and a crime scene this morning that was easily worse than any she’d ever walked into. She’d responded to an informant who claimed to see the truck and found one of them. He’d led her back to what she thought was their base of operations. She hadn’t expected… this.

“Hey!” She shouted, feeling her control over the situation begin to slip. “I mean it, I will shoot you agai--” this time, it was Enlil who interrupted - though he still wasn’t speaking to her.

“Yes.” he said, with quiet finality. “But the conditions I mentioned…”

“We accept.” Belle said with sudden, terrible eagerness. Cassandra’s eyes widened, though a moment later she nodded as well. Her face mirrored Belle’s determination, though it was softer. Belle’s next words held a kind of hopeful venom.

“How do we do it?”

Saints could feel her heart start to break for these girls. After everything they went through, their savior was now promising a revenge he could never deliver. She couldn’t blame them for wanting it. Who could? But it was cruel of him to put them through this. These poor things had been through enough. She was about to shout again when Enlil surprised her for the second time in as many minutes.

“You, do not. You have chosen their fates. I will carry out the sentence.” Enlili said with a formality in his voice that had not been there before. Then he simply turned, picked up the knife, and started towards the bound man.

Saints blinked. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Deep down, a part she’d been burying inside her entire career, was actually rooting for Enlil. These traffickers had been right in the middle of her city. Who knows how long they’d been here and nobody had stopped them. She had no doubt these men were not the only members, but… it was a start. And there’d been no legal nonsense to dance around. No ridiculously drawn-out trial. Just justice applied, swift and sure.

Detective Saints shook those thoughts away with considerable mental effort. It was hard to bury the part of her that agreed with vigilantism. As a cop, she knew that long-term... having vigilante justice just didn’t work. Batman sounded great until every amped-up white knight in town was breaking the law to be him. Then it was just chaos.

That’s where the law came in. It might not be perfect, but until society found something that was… it was the best they had. And the law was clear here. Regardless of what the bound blonde man had almost certainly done… regardless of how reprehensible it might be… regardless of how little she would object if he were to be killed… He was still a citizen. And she wouldn’t let him die under her watch, even if it meant shooting someone a part of her was still cheering along.

Besides. She’d just warned him. Saints took aim, and fired at his leg. It wasn’t the head as she’d promised, but strong as he might be, a shot to the leg ought to convince him to stay down.

At least, that’s what she had hoped.

The bullet tore through his leg and into the floor. Instead of faltering however, he kept moving. Saints couldn’t allow that. She sighted and fired once more on the same leg. Blood splattered the other side of the floor near the sigils. Enlil stopped moving and looked over at her. His expression unreadable.

“That is enough, Detective Saints.” He warned. “Put the gun down. If you interrupt what I’m about to do we will all regret the result.” The woman facing him down made no such move, so he sighed. Then, his form blurred towards her and more shots rang out.

Saints pulled the trigger as fast as she could. The man was probably high on something that let him ignore pain. That, or he was crazy. She’d heard stories of insane men fighting off a dozen cops, ignoring all injuries except the final death. If this was one, she had no intention of letting herself be put down - she aimed her last shot at the enormous charging man’s head and fired.

Enlil saw the change in her eyes as he moved. The cop had great instincts, he had to give her that. The subtle shift in her aim towards his eyes was well-timed. Unlike the other shots to his torso, this one would have taken much longer to recover from. And her speed! It was to be commended. Clearly, she had fired it under pressure before.

Unfortunately for the detective, Enlil had been around when the Chinese were first discovering that sudden flame could propel objects at rapid speed. He’d been around when humanity had started putting metal balls at the base of long barrels to improve accuracy and range. And he’d been around when the world finally learned to make them en-masse. In all those years, he’d learned more about aiming a firearm than all save maybe three or four beings that walked the earth.

While most would be loathe to admit it, dodging bullets was next to impossible with the limits of mortal flesh. A properly aimed shot would arrive at its destination. Physics was physics, after all. Only creatures of supernatural agility could manage to dodge firearms with any level of reliability. And even then… No. As weak as he was now, Enlil could not hope to evade the detective’s shot once she pulled the trigger.

Fortunately for Enlil, he didn’t have to.

There’s a brief window to move between when a shooter decides to pull the trigger and when their finger actually moves. It wasn’t much, and an experienced marksman will follow their target if they move too far. But that solitary moment was enough for a slight movement if one was fast enough. If they watched death approach closely and didn’t flinch. And if their opponent didn’t see them moving…

Enlil’s hand reached out towards the detective, just enough to obscure his head. To keep up appearances, he twisted his mouth into a silent scream at his fate. To the detective, it looked like a last desperate attempt from a man about to die. They both knew the bullet would go straight through his hand, no matter how meaty it might be. She steeled her resolve and fired.

The round went through Enlil’s outstretched hand and pierced into the fridge. His hand closed around the end of the pistol and, with an almost careless ease, pulled it out of her grasp. Saints tried to hold on, but it was like trying to resist a falling boulder. It just went on its way. Her strength wasn’t even added into the equation.

Blood dripped to the floor from Enlil’s chin where it flowed down from his missing ear. There was a burn mark along his chin where the shot had traveled. It had been close. Very close…

Enlil flung the weapon across the room. It broke into the drywall and stuck there. Enlil looked down at the detective. Tall as she was, the large man was taller. She looked up at him in shock, as his wounds healed before her eyes. Then her eyes changed to defiance and she settled into a martial stance. Enlil recognized her posture instantly. Kokutsu-dachi, a defensive form from karate. It was used primarily to dodge or move into a counter against an attacking opponent. Clearly, she expected the fight to continue.

For him though, the fight was over. “Adjust your rear foot to the left a few degrees. It’s off.” Enlil corrected in a reprimanding, though not disapproving, tone. Then he turned and walked back towards the blonde man. Without her weapon, she could no longer spill his blood on the ritual. Which was good, because he had no intention of visiting Hell. Not this time of year, at any rate. The threat handled, he felt reasonably certain he could finish what he had to do before she interrupted again.

Enlil wasn’t surprised when he heard her move, even when the sounds indicated she was coming towards him. He figured she was about to put herself between him and the bound one - whose name, he remembered absently, was Jason - to make some claim as to why the filth deserved to live. Maybe claim the scum deserved a fair trial. It was an irritatingly common claim in recent centuries. As if trials determined anything the accused had not already proved.

Saints didn’t do any of that. She didn’t run in front of him, she didn’t offer up excuses for his life, and she didn’t beg. Instead, she punched him dead in the ribs with all her might.

It was a good blow, and it looked to have taken him completely by surprise. Air escaped his mouth as the wind was knocked right out of his lungs. Her strike made him stagger back a step. Saints grinned darkly at the result. She hadn’t been sure it would have any effect when she hit him - the man’s side felt nearly as hard as the concrete blocks her master used to make her train with. An idle part of her mind noted the pain in her own arm. That same part scolded Saints for the rushed attack. Whatever sort of body armor this Enlil guy had on, it was incredibly hard. If her form had been off, there was a good chance she’d have broken her fingers.

Before Saints could follow up, her vision was obscured almost completely. Dirt splashed across her face. She stumbled back, and reached for her eyes to wipe whatever it was away only to realize… it was his boot. Turned sideways and with the heel an inch - if that - from where her face had been. As she moved back, so too did his leg, until he placed it on the ground. Saints hadn’t even seen him move.

Enlil stopped his counter kick just shy of contact. It was a close thing. He didn’t want to harm an officer of the law if he could. He made a point of that, wherever he went. It had served him well throughout his long life. At the same time… he hadn’t expected her to hit him. It had been a long time since he’d been surprised like that. Instinct had almost killed her.

He looked at the woman, who looked like she was preparing to come at him again. She wasn’t in a particular stance… but he could feel the intent coming off her all the same. Her whole body was coiled up. It was time he stopped taking her for granted.

“Stop.” Enlil commanded, his tone authoritative for the first time since she’d arrived. His other hand blurred and Saints tensed. The knife at his belt sprouted from the neck of the blonde man. A scream died in Jason’s throat as he did, unable to escape the metal in his esophagus.

“The man was already dead.” He continued with grim finality. “Cease any further interruptions and I will answer your questions once I’m finished. Interrupt again…” Enlil’s eyes glinted in the dark room. “And you will wake when your comrades find you.”

Saints didn’t have a response to that. The man’s wounds from her earlier shots were completely healed. His ear had returned and his hand was whole once more. She’d hit him with everything she had - all of her momentum had been concentrated on it - and she’d barely succeeded in not breaking her own hand. He’d killed that man right in front of her despite her best efforts. Her mind raced, but until she had more information… all she could do now was bide her time. After a moment under his gaze, she nodded slowly in agreement.

Satisfied, Enlil dismissed her for the moment and turned back to his task. First, he scrutinized the blood runes. None of them appeared to be out of order or marred significantly. Second, he retrieved his knife from the throat of the newly dead slaver. It made a sucking noise and lifted the man’s neck slightly as it slid out. Third…

Enlil moved to stand center, evenly in front of the three. Dark words poured out from his mouth to form words not meant to be spoken outside of the Abyss. Crimson light shone up from below and outlined the three bodies in a perfect pentagram with interlocking lines underneath them. The carpeting began to char and blacken. Then it cracked and wisps of smoke escaped from between the cracks. An instant later and the floor itself began to fall away from the bodies, replaced by high flames that licked and charred the flesh suspended above them by the pentagram’s interlocking lines.

Both of the blanketed girls behind him screamed. Cassandra in fear, but Belle’s sounded closer to excitement than horror. Saints swore aloud and her hands made the gesture of the cross. Enlil ignored them all. He finished his incantation and waited. He wouldn’t have to wait long.

In under a minute, a gaseous shape made of darkness rose up from the flames and coalesced into a demonic face floating above the body. When the darkness had formed a mouth and infernal red eyes, it began to speak. Saints was astonished to realize a moment later that the raspy apparition was speaking English.

“Enlil... The Provider. He Who Trades. It is rare to see you so often, old friend. What have you brought me now?”

Enlil opened his mouth to respond, but Belle was faster. Her small voice rippled with anger and rose in volume as she went.

“Bitches! He’s brought you gross, little... bitches! Drag them to hell, demon! Burn them, forever!”

There was no remorse in her voice, not a shred of it. Enlil got the distinct feeling she was repeating an insult she’d heard rather than one she’d made up, but he said nothing. A raspy chuckle came from the demon’s mouth as it regarded her with amusement plain even through indistinct features. Fire escaped from where its mouth ought to have been. Belle was standing when she finished, her small form shaking in fury.

“Hehehehh... We shall, little mortal. We shall. I assume…” The demon’s gaze returned to Enlil. “... your standard Deal, then?”

Saints looked from Belle to the demon, then back to Enlil. The big man had not moved an inch when Belle spoke up. His face hadn’t so much as twitched.

“Yes.” Enlil responded simply. “Early delivery in exchange for immediate Judgement, plus my fee. The two behind me have sworn to bear witness eternal to the sins of those presented.”

The demon’s crimson eyes danced. “Accepted.” It rasped with glee. The mens’ bodies were immediately consumed in an updraft of red-hot flame. Saints and the other two covered their eyes with their arms. Enlil remained unmoving.

Unearthly screams tore from the mens’ bodies. Three silver-white shadows in the forms of the men they once were writhed in pain as their flesh disintegrated. Tendrils of more black gas reached up from below and bound each of them. Slowly, the tendrils dragged the tortured souls into the burning Abyss.

When it was done, a large pit similar to the one Saints had seen under the car back at the diner was all that remained of where the men had been. The air smelled bitterly of sulphur and something else she couldn’t identify. The demon remained inside the still-glowing pentagram however. Its eyes were still on the man she had struck earlier. The man was mulling something over, and the demon had noticed.

“Do you have any other… business, my friend?”

The question seemed to pause the entire room, despite the flames still licking up from below in front of him. Everyone looked at Enlil and waited for his response. A minute passed. Then another. Enlil looked over at Saints. She felt her mouth go dry. Then his gaze returned to the demon. Strange words came from the big man once more. Saints felt her heart drop. Was she next?

The demon laughed once more, longer this time. As it did, its face unraveled and flowed back down into the hole it had come from. The red light flickered and, after a moment, was gone.

Silence rushed in to fill the room. It filled every space in the house. For the three who hadn’t just summoned a demon to earth, it seemed to fill the entire world. In that pregnant moment, Saints had only one question.

“What… What did you tell him?” she asked, fear making its way into her voice in spite of herself.

The immortal’s laughter was her only response.