And...there he was. The thing darted from behind a dumpster and ran away from where Roderick. It sprinted like an Olympian going for the gold only to shriek and skid to a stop when Cyn appeared at the end of the street. The Scot lifted his chin as if in greeting. "All alone tonight? Kill your date or something?" The demon growled and yanked out a handgun. He cranked his head to Roderick and then back to Cyn. "Let me by. I'll shoot you in the head. Even you cannot survive that." Cyn rolled his eyes and lifted a brow at Roderick. "Seriously. That's all you got?" The gun blast echoed, a second later, with a swift slash of his sword, the demon's head rolled onto the ground. Cyn was looking behind him to ensure no one was shot while both the body and head evaporated, a thick blue smoke spreading over the ground like a mist. "Well that was boring," Cyn said waiting for Roderick to sheath his sword. "What about the victim?" "Homeless man. Dead." Roderick stalked to the sidewalk and let out a breath. "Do you ever take anything serious?" His friend seemed to ponder. "Nope." Cynden Fraser was young get, at only two hundred and twenty five, not tired of the continuous circle of killing demons only for them to multiply.
