First Demonic Dragon

Deep in the Louisiana bayou, there is a single shack that sits alone within the gator infested waters, with seemingly nothing else around for miles.

But every so often, small boats of tourists show up at night to see something grand.

Something supernatural.

Inside of what looked like an ordinary gift shop, two men were seated around eating a deeply southern meal of chicken and sausage gumbo with a hearty medley of vegetables and a heaping slab of buttered cornbread on the side.

Just because they were feeling extra peckish this evening, the two men had fried up some frog legs as well, and were enjoying them with hot sauce and a few cold beers to wash it all down.

Not only would they sleep like a rock after this, but they would pay for it on the toilet in the morning as well.

One of the man was fat and had red hair and a choppy beard.

His body was only covered in a pair of greasy blue overalls and he had no shoes on his dirty feet, giving him an overall look of a man unbathed.

The man opposite him wasn't a whole lot cleaner, but he was skinnier and had no beard and much longer red hair, in addition to freckles and liver spots on his exposed back.

Behind the counter of the store sat a very old looking man with dark skin in a plaid shirt and jeans.

His head was bare and shiny, but his gray beard was full like that of Santa Clause, and one of his brown eyes was clearly made from glass.

Around his neck he wore some kind of amulet decorated with symbols and human teeth; tied with a string of leather.

All three men sat in silence when there was suddenly a knock on their cabin door, and their attention was stolen away.

"...We expectin anymore tourists tonight, Leroy?" the fat twin asked.

"Sho ain't..." the old man responded. "Check that door, Beau."

The skinny twin got up from his seat and grabbed a shotgun that was sitting by the door.

Very quick like, the red haired man opened the wooden peephole to see who was outside before immediately closing it shut.

"Who is it?"

"It's a black guy!"

"Like Leroy?"

"No, this one's handsome!"

"Fuck you!" Leroy yelled.

"No, I mean does he look like he has money? Like one of our tourists? Or does he look like Leroy?" asked Ray.

"You fat bitch I swear to-"

"He looks decent like! Got a lot of tattoos though... His hair's dyed too...Might be a queer."

"I can hear you all." The stranger said through the door.

The men looked at each other and nodded silently to themselves before Beau flung the door open and pointed his gun at the man outside.

Like Beau had described, he was a handsome young man with brown skin and tattoos that came up to his throat.

He wore an unbuttoned black coat that stopped at around his knees and a simple black shirt underneath it.

His black jeans were simple but not quite cheap looking, and were paired with black and white sneakers from some famous brand that neither of the twins could pronounce.

"Who are you? You got a reference?"

"A reference...? Got nothing like that..."

The young man started to walk around the store and browsed the various knick knacks like he was interested in buying them.

"I am here by word of mouth though. Heard this place is where you hold mysteries and marvels untold to the world. Gotta say I'm in awe that a place like this exists."

The rattling of a shotgun reached the strangers ears as he stopped firmly in his tracks.

"The fact that you know about this place means you gotta be real special. The contracts signed by the clients don't permit discussion of this place with ordinary mundanes. So what are you?"

"A vampire? You dress alike. Seem arrogant like a leach too." Leroy asked from behind the counter before dismissing the idea. "Naw... You're prettier than them... healthier lookin too."

"A wolf then?" Ray guessed as he continued eating.

"Too slender, not as aggressive, and the first thing he touched was an object laced with wolfsbane." Leroy denied.

All at once, the three men came to one other guess that was the most likely.

"""A Warlock..!"""

Like wolves, they circled the man with intrigued eyes and slight bits of honor.

Beau: "Boy... is it hard to track one of you down... So many pretenders and fakers out there these days it gets to be all but impossible to find a real one, at least in America..."

Ray: "Sho is... Leroy is the only one I've ever seen and this old bugger ain't that powerful. Took everything he got just to camouflage the shack and trap the attractions... You look a fair bit mo' impressive."

Leroy : "What clan are you from, young' un? You got that accent on you... makes me feel like you might be a Mistik."

The warlock in question suddenly started to snicker, before he threw his head back and laughed as loudly as possible.

The eyes of the three men went wide as they took a cautionary step back out of fear and awe.

Just this man's very laugher was enough to cause the entire shop to shake; meaning his entire being was filled with an unnatural amount of power.

"I'll be damned...! I never thought I'd hear the day I was mistaken for a simple witch." The young man said as he wiped his tears- clearly genuinely amused.

Leroy mistook his simple comment for something else though, and quickly tried to atone for his mistake.

'Witches' is sort of one big general term for a human who can use magic, but to simply apply that term to them individually can often be seen as insulting.

There are several different kinds of witches, like enchanters, alchemists, druids, shamans and witch doctors, so to refer to one as a simple witch is just like dropping the title of Doctor from someone who has been through medical residency.

They have put in the work to earn the title, so they deserve to have it paid homage to.

"My apologies, young' un... What branch of magic do you practice?"

The young man looked into the eyes of Leroy and smiled with an odd light in his eye.

"Now this... this is funny. You asking me about magic is no different from a caveman asking about car repair. Even if I were to talk to you about magic, you would not even begin to comprehend the first sentence that came out of my mouth."

The young man did not move a muscle, but all three men were suddenly pulled to the ground by unholy black chains covered in dark red miasma.

"W-Wha-?!"

"What is this?!"

"How is he doing this shit?! How is he doing this shit?!"

The young man took off his glasses and took a knee on the ground, and his eyes became an unreal glowing red as he stared at Leroy.

"I learned something real funny when I came back to this world... You all don't have magic... Not true magic anyway."

"What..?"

"Everything you use is so weak and polluted and muddled... I'd imagine that your offensive powers are restricted to little more than inducing aneurysms in mortals, flinging small objects with telekinesis or setting things on fire...

Anything more must take a great deal of chanting, effigies, sacrifices, and needless things like that, am I right? And even then, I bet what you can do is still severely limited."

Leroy tilted his head in confusion as the chains got tighter around his body.

Why was this kid asking as if they were all pathetic?

How did he summon these chains out of nowhere that were fueled with such an abhorrent amount of dark magic?!

And those red eyes... Just what was this man really?!

"Well... it's not your fault you have no understanding of real magic, since there is no longer any in this world.

I imagine that a few special higher beings blessed your bloodlines with slivers of their power and you draw on that when you perform your little party tricks...

I can see it actually... your ancestors empower you from beyond the grave, sending you tethers of their strength when you need it. How funny that their meager efforts cannot save you now."

Leroy couldn't believe it.

This man really wasn't a warlock, but he had learned all of their greatest secrets in an instant, including the way that all of their magic worked.

"Dyab..." he muttered. (Devil)

"Oh, no no no, my friend. I assure you that he would have been much more lenient on you than I am going to be."

The young man suddenly grabbed Leroy by the face and held him up against the wall with monstrous strength.

"Leroy Tunde... You've been here for quite a long time, haven't you? Sure you've seen a lot of attractions come and go... Like my mother for example."

At that moment, a woman appeared from a rip in space that seemed like a portal from a sci-fi movie.

She was just as gorgeous now as she was sixty years ago, with beautiful green skin and black dreadlocks interwoven with gold.

Her figure was hidden behind a black dress, but even that could not hide her hypnotically curvaceous features and motherly demeanor.

"I-Imani..! You-"

"Moun Sal!" She spat coldly. (Dirty person)

Realizing things were going to get very painful for him, Leroy opted for the one plan he could that he felt would bring him salvation.

Pray.

"Mother... Which hand did he try to touch you with?" Carter asked in an empty tone of voice.

"...The both of-"

Imani had barely gotten the words passed her lips when Carter suddenly grabbed onto his wrist and yanked it hard enough to send it free.

Bloody screams filled the air as Leroy suddenly lost one of his precious limbs before he even knew how.

"I would not start to cry yet if I were you..." Carter said as he reached for the other arm. "I have hardly even done anything to you yet, you know? There is more hell to come, human..!"

"Abaddon~" A male sing-song voice called.

Smiling, Carter looked over his own shoulder at the new voice that had suddenly appeared within the shack.

He was a handsome albeit feeble-looking older man, wearing an enchanting white suit and broad straw hat while carrying a silver cane with a skull for a handle.

He had dreadlocks that went to his shoulders, and ritualistic white markings covering his face.

His eyes, though red, were not evil in nature and instead were far more warm than one would expect.

Though this man seemed gentle, he did give off the aura of someone who was not to be trifled with.

"Let's not take things any farther than this, shall we? Instead let's talk, just you and I."

Carter's smile only widened further as his disguise burned away and his natural form became revealed.

Complete with the usual claws, horns, and of course pointed teeth that were sharper than any sword.

"Papa Legba as I live and breathe... What an honor this is!"

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