After The Gods Have Died Chapter 1

Sticks and Stones

The guy near the front of the bus had a helmet on. Not just any kind of helmet, a motorcycle helmet, one of those ones that covered his whole face or would if the visor wasn't pulled up. The way it was sitting showed off a mouth set in a frown and icy eyes that were burning holes into the floor of the bus. The last thing Callum wanted to do was stare at him, to get his attention but it was hard for him not to. When he'd first climbed on the bus he'd barely noticed the guy, eyes glossing over the unusual attire until after he'd sat down. Callum had planned to just stare out the window and pay attention to where he was going, the last thing he wanted to do was get lost and lose this gig with rent day looming over his head, but despite how quiet the odd man was he still drew attention. Well Callum's attention at least. The other handful of passengers seemed to look right past the guy as if he was inconsequential.

Callum wanted nothing more than to be just like them, staring ahead blankly, in the void of their own thoughts. Instead he was sitting there, trying to rationalize why the guy would need a helmet like that on a bus. Maybe he was heading to pick up a bike, or going to meet someone who had one but then why wasn't it set next to him? Why would be wear something so heavy and hot on a bus that lacked any kind of air conditioning? The redhead didn't have the piercings in that would allow him to see past this mundane world into the realm of the supernatural. He didn't know what he was going to need for this particular job and he preferred to assess first rather than just assume. When he showed up with them already in it usually gave off the wrong impression, he found people weren't too keen on hiring someone with their face full of metal even if it was for work. The only one he left in was a surface piercing just under his left eye and it had no baring on his work, he just liked it.

Without his stone and metal bits in place he felt vulnerable, especially since he was certain now the guy in the helmet was up to something.

Callum was an exorcist, had been for years now even though he wasn't all that old. He'd started young, younger than most since it was something that ran in the family. Before he'd learned his abc's he knew how to draw a basic salt circle for protection. By the time he was in high school he was better than most of the adults that his family trained. He'd actually chosen to go with his mother's maiden last name, Taggert, instead of his father's if only because it was too closely linked to his family heritage and he wanted nothing to do with it. He might have been an exorcist just like the rest of them but his methods were unusual and he wasn't particularly a fan of them in general. In fact if he could got the rest of his life without ever seeing them again then he would be happy. He didn't like to dwell on them. That was part of the reason he had to do things freelance, taking a major cut in pay since people usually only went freelance when they didn't want to pay for his family's flat rate. That or they didn't agree with their methods but he found that to be less than common.

He was twenty-five though to look at him most strangers would guess him younger than that. It was in the roundness of his cheeks, especially if the dark circles under his aged grey eyes were ignored. There were small dark marks amongst his many freckles, the only hint towards his piercings without them in place. Most days Callum stuck to oversized hoodies to hide how slender he was starting to get, living from job to job, paying rent before buying groceries. They were starting to wear thin, just like the jeans that exposed his knees with large tears. He looked unapproachable and that was just how he wanted it, at least that was what he told himself. If he thought about how lonely his life was now that he'd left behind his family and struck out on his own then his sorrow would swallow him whole. He never wanted to feel that way. He'd left behind his sister and friends that had just never understood his fear and distaste for his grandmother. The solitude had rounded his shoulders and drawn his body in towards itself, making himself little more than a shadow. That's what he felt like in this sun filled world as it was, an absence of light.

Callum looked over the paper in his hand, crumpled but thankfully not unreadable yet. It was a few stops before he needed to get off the bus but he was early enough he could probably walk the rest of the way and not be late. He glanced up at the guy at the front of the bus again, looking to see if he was moving at all but he looked pretty settled in his seat. The sense of unease that filled his stomach at the sight was too much for him, at least right now, forcing him to his feet. He hit the stop request button as he waited by the door, foot tapping as he wrapped an arm around a pole to keep himself upright.

“Shit. You.”

The voice startled Callum, badly enough that he turned to see where it came from even though he knew he should probably keep to himself. The guy with the helmet was staring at him now, those same cold, blue eyes tearing through the redhead and gluing him in place. Now he was certain that the man wasn't truly human at all, no one had eyes that could sear like like but creatures from the depths of nightmares. Too late Callum tore his gaze away, staring hard the door willing for it to open as the guy or whatever he was got to his feet and made his way to the exorcist. Today had been the wrong day to go without his usual piercings, he would have never gotten on this bus if he'd known soon enough. Now it was too late. He could feel heat move up behind him, hyper aware of the man standing right behind him. He was fucked, trying to think of some way to fight for his safety.

Instead of a hand on his shoulder however, there was a warmth over his head. The helmet that had upset him so much that he'd felt the need to get off the bus, was put over his messy bun, the visor pulled down so his whole face was covered. That set his nerves off so badly he wasn't even sure how to respond, planning to turn if only to push the asshole away. He didn't get a chance as he felt the bus pulling up to the stop, door starting to open for him. One foot in the air, ready to take him as far away as fast as possible the crunch of metal and shattering of glass interrupted all movements and thoughts.

Callum was vaguely aware that he was airborne, body thrown from the bus before there was another, louder thunk that enveloped his ears and darkened his vision.

A minute later and everything went white and cleared, body aching as Callum tried to figure out which way was up, the ground moving. The redhead tried to call out for some explanation but only managed a groan, one that wasn't loud enough to be heard over the screaming of passengers and onlookers alike. Sitting up was a hard task, on that made Callum feel like he was on a boat trapped in a storm, the world swaying back and forth. A hand went to his head, finding the helmet that was in place to be completely smashed on the top. He'd hit something and hit it hard. Without the helmet his skull would have been what was completely destroyed. In his head ringing state that thought was freaking him out, that he should have been dead in this moment but was not. Whoever the hell it had been on the bus with him had saved his life and he had no idea why.

His hands weren't cooperating as he tried to tear the helmet off of his head, the weight and shape of it just wrong for fingers that shook desperately. He needed it off and he needed it off now. Just like when the thing had been jammed onto his head, phantom hands pulled it off for him, shifting his point of view with another groan.

“You just couldn't stay on the bus could you?”

Blue eyes stared down at Callum only this time they weren't set into the same face as the one he'd seen on the bus. The guy's skin wasn't dark in the same way, the colour blue like the night sky except for thick tattoos around his neck and a scar across his face, over his nose and one eyelid, a paler purple than the rest of him. His eyes were exactly the same. Now Callum knew they belonged to a demon, the creature's horns visible as they sprouted from ink black hair.

There was no way Callum would be able to get to his protection in time or fight a demon of any calibre, not now with how hurt and unprepared he was. Still one finger started to trace a ruin on the ground beside him, a slow and painful process while his muscles strained to work. It was also completely pointless, the hell creature laughed when he noticed it.

“I'm going. Don't ever get on a bus with me again. These accidents hurt like fuck.” The exorcist had no chance to reply, to do anything at all even. His rune was left half completed when the demon turned heel and walked away, leaving the wreck behind, unnoticed by all of the onlookers. Callum let out a breath of relief at the sight of his back though he wasn't sure why he would have been left alive. Demons were not exactly known for their mercy.

Other than a major headache and aching joints Callum was pretty sure that he was okay. He had to be okay, he needed to get out of there before the police arrived or worse someone from the Fortuna organization. The last thing he wanted was for his family to find him while investigating the traces of a demonic presence. The risk of them finding him was enough of a worry that he knew he needed to get out now, he didn't have time to wait for any of the hurt to ease up.

He found a scape on one palm that was still bleeding, though sluggishly. It was enough, it had to be enough at least, he couldn't stay any longer, not now that he could hear the oncoming sirens. He dragged his thumb along the cut, smearing the red over even more of his palm before he closed his eyes. The chant he whispered under his breath had been memorized years ago, bloodied thumb tracing closed eyelids. The thin, sensitive skin tingled with the power he placed upon them, pulse thumping in his ears. When he opened his eyes again his vision was flecked with little flecks of light, a sign his super had worked. Now anyone who had been watching him looked about confused, trying to remember what it was they were doing only moments before, turning attention to those other poor souls in the accident. Now even when he groaned to get to his feet no one paid him any mind. Perfect.

There was one pair of eyes however, that never lost sight of him. Electric blue from within a well of shadows never lost sight of him.