Angel - City of Fear

City of: Book 1. Doyle didn't have much with him, even after death. If he even decided to make something else as a neat reminder of him it probably would have been gone in a night. An Irish, half-bred demon who received visions from The Powers That Be. Angel and Cordelia had made a private investigation agency thanks to him; "Angel Investigations: We help the helpless". But one night, one night is what changes his fate and his path to redemption. It began with a chase. And ended in the way Doyle didn't expect...nor did Angel. (Second Angel Fanfiction on Wattpad, posted 3.2.2014) (Completed 6.4.2014) (Cover by EKShortstories)


26. Dah truth is out tere

  Floyd is unsure why he was called Doyle. It just didn’t fit together.  Except for the fact they nearly looked alike. There’s clear differences between Leckochen and Brachen, both sides had feuds and wars between them, which is more obvious than not. They had different physical features in demon form. If the soldier intended to annoy Floyd by calling him ‘Doyle’ before he slipped, then it was surely working.

  After what seemed like forever (And eternity) , Floyd regains consciousness.

Floyd woke up in a bright room. His vision was blurry at first, but after blinking a few times everything came into focus. It felt like he hadn’t eaten in a few days.  He saw two men standing there talking. Am I in the hospital? Floyd did not hear sounds a busy hospital would have. He figured he was somewhere that’s like a hospital but not quite it.

“I…I am not Doyle.” Floyd said, trying to push himself forward.

The first man, Donny Cachen, laughs.

 “I told you so,Brack.” Donny said, as the man beside him (Who is Brack) takes out a couple dollars. “Pay up.”

 Brack puts a couple dollars in Donny’s hand.

“…What kind of name is dat? ” Floyd asks, feeling well rested but hungry and thirsty. He could have been in hibernation for 6 months. “Dah name ‘Brack’, did yer parents run out of good names?”

Donny slaps his knee as Brack’s face becomes red.

“Be glad I can’t punch you.” Brack said, with a warning growl.

“Well ten…” Floyd starts counting his fingers. “Why did ya; Send an explosive, Let it detonate, call me Doyle, and where dah heck am I?” 

He holds up four fingers.

 “You are still in China.” Donny tells him.


 “It was the best way to get you.” Donny explains. “We have…” He clears his throat, stumbling in what he is trying to say. “We…Um…need your help.”

Floyd is mad.

 “Ya could have called!” Floyd shouts, his left hand curls into a fist.  “I wouldn’t be unable ta help, besides, I’m hungry. How long have I been out?”

 Donny and Brack are silent.

“I want an answer.” Floyd said, in the voice he wouldn’t use with others.

Donny plays with his fingers.

“You’ve been out for over a…um…month.”  Donny struggles to say this…in one breath.

Floyd’s eyes grew wide and rounded.

“I really hate ya,” Floyd said, as his eyes return to normal. “Ya know dat?” 

Brack and Donny look down ashamed, as they mutter “Yes.”

  ________                        _________________                   ________________

…Los Angelese…


“Is it usual for Angel to be grumpy?” Wesley asks Doyle, after Angel went into his office.

 Doyle has a paperback book in his hands.  He has this surprised reaction. Doyle hadn’t imagined someone like Wesley to ask him a question like this. Nor had he wanted this to be a moment. It is a good question. But…it sounded very ridiculous.

“Angel, grumpy?” Doyle said, with a laugh. “He’s broody. Not Mr.Grumpy all dah time.” Doyle shook his head. “Angel has his moments.”

Wesley turns his attention towards Doyle.

“You know him better than I, already.” Wesley sits on the corner of a desk. He folds his arms. And then he asked a simple question, if it was really that simple that is, that a really good friend could answer right away. “Tell me…What do you think is up with him?”

 Doyle has a little ‘crap’ moment.

 “Well…” Doyle trails, recalling what he has been doing for the past week.

The things that Angel wouldn’t necessary do; travel when it’s day and use shadows to protect him.

 “He’s been visitin’ dis hotel.” Doyle said, looking over his shoulder briefly. He changes his attention back to Wesley. “Don’t tell Cordelia about dat. I was out with some old drinkin’ buddies of mine outside a bar, catchin’ up on dah good stuff. I saw Angel go in ta dis building.”

“Did you go in?” Wesley asks.

“I…”  Doyle puts the book down. “When I came in ta dat hotel….” He shook his head. “I heard tese voices in my head. And ta be frank tey creeped me out…”

 Wesley unfolds his arms.

 “What kind of voices?” Wesley stands up from the corner of the desk.

“It’s a historic buildin’, Wesley.” Doyle reminds him.

“You don’t usually hear voices in your head that make you leave a building.”

Doyle shuddered, remembering the creepy and odd atmosphere that lingered inside the building.

“But…someone still lives in tere. I got dah feelin’.”

 Wesley rubs his chin.

“You got paranoid.”

 “No, I didn’t.”

 “Did too.”

“I didn’t just leave….” Doyle argues back, standing up. He didn’t admit to a lot of things like that.  “…Because I got dah goosebumps, Wesley.”

 “Oh yeah?” Wesley raises a brow at him.  “Let’s take this argument outside,” Wesley is deliberately trying to act tough. “And not let the boss hear.”

 Doyle pinches his forehead.

 “Ya can stop callin’ Angel ‘Boss’.” Doyle said, going out first.

Wesley goes after him, saying “Oh yeah?”

Angel, in his office, taps a pencil on the table contemplating about whatever is going on. Fortunately he is deep in thought about this he couldn’t hear what they what Wesley and Doyle had been talking about.  Whatever involved hotel had totally got his attention (Besides helping those who were helpless) in a way that reflected him for the past month

_____________            _________________                 _______________________________


    Floyd’s eyes grew wide and wide as they explained to him what kind of problem they got into. The situation sounded dire, but plausible to get it done. Drinking Soda did wonders to his thirst. Floyd has been in missions long enough with Andrew to know that impossible is really possible. It was partially his fault this happened. And some of it was Cornelia’s fault too. They let the problem get out of hand.

 Now…Floyd had to fix it for them.

A black SUV stops at a abandoned building (Not The Crew Headquarters); then men in SWAT uniform came out. Really they are not officers from a official agency though they are Chinese officers working on a simple mission: Eliminate the threat. Floyd had to come even if the plan didn’t involve him; they still needed his help carrying it out.

Floyd, on the other hand, didn’t wear a helmet; he had on black sunglasses (Believing that it’s cool to wear them during an elimination) in the mist of this. Floyd did get into a SWAT uniform.  He preferred not to be in Leckochen form during this event in front of the men. Regardless that half of the men on the mission were half demons they easily outnumbered the humans. The human officers were not aware they had half-breeds on this mission.

Sticks crunched under their boots.

Floyd slid down his dark, rounded glasses.

“So, is dis dah place?” Floyd said, with a whistle.

Donny nods.

 “I expected it…ta be a bit bigger.” Floyd said.

“So did me.” Brack joins in.

The head member of this task force gave the signal, and so they sneaked inside the building. We hear gun fire from inside the building and bullets fly off deflected surfaces. We can hear punches, neck breaking; and so on…This goes on for approximately an hour and thirty five minutes. We go in to see Floyd is standing there, a bit shocked to see a timer on a device that can explode.

“…I’m startin’ ta hate dah old fashioned way.” Floyd complains, taking off his dark, long gloves.

Floyd looks over his shoulder.

“Get..out while ya still can.” Floyd said, in a warning voice.


“You heard the man!” The 3rd in Command said, as the gunfire draws their attention.

   The men ditched Floyd, all except for Donny. He was alone. But he had adrenaline running through his face. Donny is panting and sweaty. Floyd took the lid off the explode-able device. If a kitten had been in there then he wouldn’t had eased the tension because there were lives on the line. Many lives that did not involve the animal, only these men and other people did it impact greatly.

 “Well… “ Floud starts. “Where’s yer pal Brack?”

Floyd is not accustomed to seeing him without the more tan and really good looking young man.

Donny’s face became pale.

“Oh hell.” Donny turns around, and then he goes down a hallway calling for Brack.

Floyd had experience with disabling bombs, before he ever met Andrew and Cornelia…All he had to do was: rip out all the wires.  He later found out Brack was shot 12 times and his body wasn’t really…good looking to be exact. It looked like had been in a bar fight but twice as bad as a street riot. Floyd hadn’t seen a man die like that in ages. It made his entire philosophy on being the antongist change completely.

 That’s when he decided to help China deal with The Crew’s schemes; to end these potentially deadly schemes.

…Los Angelese…

  ….Angel Investigations…

Angel Investigations had returned to normal; from the Paranoid Hotel entire scenario was a test to show what kinds of things they kept from each other. They learned Angel had stayed at this hotel 49 years ago. Doyle and Wesley had a argument about something that went on in the hotel earlier last night. But now they are recalling their greatest achievement: Getting rid of a paranoid-feeder demon.

“Tell me,” Doyle said. “When did ya plan ta get dah cable hooked in?”

Wesley stops in place,  as he held his coffee.

 “I didn’t.” Wesley admits, slighting shaking his head.  “I was worried about exorcising him out the hotel…” He bit his lip, then he asks in a low voice. “What if we had failed?”

 Doyle looks towards Angel’s office.

 “A complete nightmare,” But then he brightened his attitude. “But look, dah hotel is now back ta...bein’  what it was meant ta be. And all’s forgiven, sort of.”

Cordelia came into the building, looking like she just woke up from a terrible nightmare.

“Who set the alarm clock on me?!” Cordelia demands an answer,  “Was it you, Wes?”

Doyle and Wesley share a fist bump.

“And now you are friends?” Cordelia is spellbounded by this. “Boys are really confusing!”

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