Angel lurked in the shadows of the old warehouse that Doyle’s vision had led him to. Wielding a long sword, he peered around boxes, every heightened sense trained, searching for the demon. On instinct he looked up at the rafters above. There on the catwalk crouched the Krevlar demon. The demon jumped down at him. Angel back-flipped out of the way, in one smooth swing he cut off the demons head. Shifting his grip Angel plunged the long sword into the jewel on the demons forehead. The demon exploded. Shouldering his sword, Angel turned and disappeared into the night, duster blowing in the wind.
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