“You could just what?” Thatcher asked with a huff. He looked over at Nike, who gave him a roll of her eyes in an annoyed manner. She was still standing behind him, looking just about as aggressive and dangerous as she would normally.
"Leave? I mean, you're obviously annoyed by me being here, and I get up pretty early anyways, so nobody'll miss me much." he said.
“This is your home. I will leave, and I’d be very happy to do so,” Thatcher simply said, licking his lips breifly. Nike snickered a bit from where she was staying, a grin on her lips that showed her still sharp and glinting fangs.
"Go ahead. I don't care much what you do. It's my fault that you got into this situation anyways." Ember said calmly.
Thatcher looked over at Nike, who raised her brows expectantly. “Very well then,” he said before turning on his heel and stepping away. But a thought dawned on him. He had no meaning- no purpose. He was bound, so names wouldn’t appear on his paper. He had no purpose to be alive anymore.
"See you." Ember muttered. He walked over to a wooden chest, kneeling down and opening it up. It's contents were various weapons, potions, and very much more, all the tools a proper exorcist would need.
Thatcher walked down the hall, down the stairs, and outside. Once outside, Nike quickly shifted back. He looked over at the now large hound and sighed. “I have o purpose. What do I do if I can’t reap?” He asked her in a mumble.
Ember slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out. He turned on his phone. Haunted shack a few miles from here. Well, that would be alright. He glanced over to Thatcher sympathetically, but then moved on. He walked over to the shed and hopped into his truck, starting the engine.
Thatcher stepped towards the road. Nike sat down by him. He gave her a look before deciding to sit down as well, right on the curb. There was nothing to do besides sit and wait, now.
Ember looked back over to where Thatcher sat. He hopped down from his truck, sighing. This idea was the stupidest one he'd ever had. He walked over to the sullen man, taking a deep breath and pulling himself together. "Hey, want to come with me and kill some shit?" he asked.
Thatcher had glared at Ember when he first spoke. “Depends, what would I be killing?” He asked levely.
"Demons, souls of the damned come back to haunt the innocent, and so on." Ember said calmly.
Thatcher looked over at Ember, eyes narrowed for a moment. He gave a huff and pushed to his feet before brushing himeslf off. “Fine,” he said with a frown.
"Alright, hop in." Ember jerked a thump towards the truck.
Thatcher looked over at Nike and mumbled something to her before stepping over. He walked over, getting into the passenger seat. His long legs awkwardly fit and were bent, and his head tilted a bit just in case he would hit it on the top of the truck’s interior.
"It won't be far, just around seven minutes away I think." Ember said slowly as he started the engine. "It's… never mind. Sorry, probably just paranoia."
Thatcher threw a look over in Ember’s direction. He seemed almost annoyed by the fact that Ember was still talking. He just wanted to do his job, not talk.
They came to a forest, driving onto a reasonably well flattened dirt road, when a thud! hit the vehicle. Ember slammed his foot on the brakes, then shook his head slightly. What the hell did we hit? he thought. "I'll check it out." he said, opening the door and jumping out. He looked at the front, where the bump was felt. There was some green goo-fluid that he guessed was blood. He looked to the grass beyond and into the trees. It was torn through, like something had stomped over it at high speeds. But whatever it was was nowhere in sight. "Well, it isn't dead. Not yet, anyways. Let's keep going." he said, getting back into the truck and starting the engine again, driving back down the road.
Thatcher frowned when there was the bump. He sat up in his seat, and had been about to get out of the car to look when Ember started driving again. He slammed the door shut, knowing better not to jump out of a moving car. “We should have gone after whatever it was,” he huffed lowly.
"Could have just been a wild animal." Ember said, not fully believing himself.
Thatcher frowened more. “Still would have been a good idea to check. It could have one of those demons that you were mentioning,” he said.
"Hmm." They kept on driving for a little longer, eventually coming up to a swampy, marshy area and a well kept wooden lodge. Ember stepped out of the truck, waving for Thatcher to follow.
Thatcher got out as well and after a small flash of light, the large scythe was in his right hand. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings closely. He licked his lips as he frowned. “Where is here?”
"Well, it's where the creatures were reported. Haunted shack is a mild stretch. Shack, yes, here, but haunted? More the area. Not sure what. It was a typo, I guess." he stepped up on the patio, knocking on the door. "Eh? Who is it? You them monster hunters?" a tall, brown haired woman asked. "Yes. What can you tell us about the creatures?" Ember said. "Them swamp monsters been skulking around for the last week or so. Finally got cocky enough, dragged a customer off the deck and et'm right up." she told them. "Ate them?" Ember blanched. "S'what I said." the woman affirmed. "Could you describe the creatures, ma'am?" Ember asked. "Them monsters, them in the swamp. Them swamp monsters." she clarified. "Very… helpful. Well, we're just going to take a look around, if you don't mind." Ember said.
“I doubt it’s haunted,” Thatcher hummed. “Ghosts are most definitely not real.” He stayed right behind Ember, and from anyone who would look head on, he did seem like the perfect picture of a steryotypical grim reaper- a dark, tall figure standing over the innocent in an intimidating fashion. Swamp monsters? That was ust as far fetched as the ghost theory to Thatcher. It was utterly ridiculous. Those were small and harmless sounding things to him.