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)


9. So much for running

Doyle looks down to his watch, waiting for the rogue Demon hunter to be arriving.  The time is 2:34 PM. The Station is a hard location to think targets will hide in. Many years ago this gray, vast deserted building used to be a Demon Police department. This so called Demon Police Department was set up to take care of business that didn't involve solving demon crimes, but dealing with forces not all demons wanted hanging around their turfs.

    "Ya know," Doyle starts, patting the side of the wall. "This buildin' used ta be dah prime example what all  demon police departments should be built like."

  Paul rolls his right eye.

 "So much for it bearing idolized."  Paul grumbled, saying a word that catches Doyle's attention.

  Has Paul been around Teenage Demons?,Doyle thought as he is caught by surprise, I must be a little too suspicous...Only one way to find out.

   Eventually, a new demon police department was built after a big scuffle tarnished the deserted Police department's image. Everyone was transferred into the new building.  Some demons say this scuffle was a gun shooting, wild and all more insane than Mexican drug-dealing cartel doing its business. A few demons say after the scuffle that demons (Or whoever) who fell in this event were destined to haunt the place.

 "So... do you know this rogue demon hunter?" Paul asks Doyle.

Doyle shrugs.

"Not really." Doyle said, taking both hands out his pockets. He shrugs. "Dah ting is, we technically may have not met...face ta face."

 Paul glares at him.

"Spirit or advanced technology?"

 Doyle laughs, leaning his back on the side of the wall.

 "No,no, no," Doyle waves his right hand back and forth.

Doyle explains to Paul how they met, in the most simple and probably logical way. Paul's jaw gradually drops as Doyle went on, the expression in his face is clearly a 'Say what'. Doyle went as far adding the experience in the Waiting Dimension. This made the greatest, logical assumption: This other Wesley came from a possible future.

  When Doyle finished this comparison...Paul did not have a word to say.

Paul's eyebrows arched together similar to a hook keeping a worm on a fishing rod.

"Some of my Third Grader's had grandparents, who were Science Fiction Whiz's." Doyle said, with a whistle. He shook his head, smiling at some memorable event in his mind. He looks straight towards Paul. "I did not have a clue about Time-Travel until ten."

 "Oooh." Paul said, rubbing his knuckles. "I understand this...somewhat."

 From the side there's an rounded white surface glowing across from  Doyle and Paul on the floor.

 "I have no idea what dis is." Doyle shields his eyes.

Paul recognizes it.

 "An Amateur doorway." Paul's eyes flash orange fo a few seconds then dye down to their original color. He takes a step away. "It is about to become messy."

The light from this growing portal burnt a part of Paul's shoe (Amateur doorways usually don't do that) and smoke drifted out of it.

 Doyle morphs into his demon form.

 "Humans do not fear light." Doyle makes a point. "And I know amateur doorways do not cause harm...Unless  a copycat Demon stands near it!"

  Doyle shot the stake into the Copy-Cat  Paul.

 "You cheater!" The copy cat demon assumes his original form. The Copy cat Demon is somewhat alien like; Cat features on his head (No cat ears), small eyes, brown dots under the eyes, tan skin, markings on the side of his fore-arms that can be mistaken for tattoo designs,  gray jeans that stop at the shoes, no tail, but there are sharp disks poking out from his back, and his big toe is poking from his shoe.

 The copy cat, otherwise known as Hyle, yanks the stake out his shoulder

 "Where is Paul?" Doyle asks, with his loaded stake-bow.

 Hyle drops the stake.

 "I ain't a security alarm, just a copyer!" Hyle snaps. "I just copied him."

 Doyle didn't approve of this.

 "Ya know more than ya lettin' on." Doyle puts the bow and stake down.

 Doyle grabs  Hyle and puts him against the wall using his superhuman strength.

 "Brachen Demons cannot do that!" Hyle squirms, frightened and startled at once. If people could say being startled and scared is impossible then just try jumping out the dark on an innocent bystander. "I know my sources!"

  The white, sphere on the floor became a white clynider.

 "Those sources are wrong." Doyle said, tightening his grip. "Tell me before I stab ya'ar heart and let ya become dust."

   Hyle fears Doyle and saw him as a Brachen Demon to reckon.

 "That's a myth!"

  Doyle raises an eyebrow.

 "Copy Cat Demons are related to Vampires, correct?"


 "Eh, wrong."

 Hyle's eyes flashed.

 "Turns out, ya'ar related to Vampires pretty loosely. Remember dat legend where a vampire was granted a species-change?" Doyle watches a blank reaction come from Hyle. "I suppose not. Dah first Copy Cat Demon, Elexander, was left with two ways of death; one is sunlight and the second is stake ta dah heart."

  Doyle has a stake in his left hand.

 "F-f-f-f-fine!" Hyle sputters,as the light died down and left Wesley in place. "He told me to be here for some man. He-h-h-ehee claimed something's up." Wesley is standing there still, now seeing what a Brachen demon is capable of. Well...a half breed to be precise.

  Not the best highlight of my day , Doyle thought, Getting tricked by a copy cat demon..

 "He-h-h-e can't come to Los Angelese. Some-some-thing is brewing back there; even a human in our world can sense this, bearing near a doorway and all." Hyle gulps, using a world people would be confused on. Bearing is a word that most demons use if they didn't have knowledge in English writing--mostly used by Demon teenagers.

   ""I us-s--suspose y--y-u--you know why." Hyle adds.

  Doyle's spikey hand makes small  circle marks in Hyle's neck.

 "Where." Doyle repeats, and then he acknowledges the obvious. "I need ta know where he is. And dat problem will be taken care of, Ya see dah human behind me? He's an expert Rogue demon hunter....Right?"

  Wesley stammers, attempting to decide whether to lie or not.

 "Yes." Wesley lied, coming forwards from the burning floor. He comes beside Doyle. "And don't Copy Cat Demons really hate Garlic?"

  Hyle's eyes widen.

 "It does make Vampires cry." Doyle agrees. He turns his direction towards Wesley. "Do ya also know what makes a distinctive marking on..."

   Hyle squirms in Doyle's grasp.

 "I do not want to puke!" Hyle yells, kicking his legs.  "Some-one get these manaics aw-hay from me! Uranus! Uranus! Uranus!"

Wesley looks at the boy, strangely.

 "Aw-hay?" Wesley couldn't believe what Hyle just said. It sounded like somebody trying to do a southern accent while doing a really bad impression doing it.

 "Dats dah typical steroteropical Demon Teenager." Doyle said, as though it was a usual event.  Hyle grunts at Wesley wanting to either kick his butt after getting out Doyle's grasp and doing the same to him.  "What else makes Copy Cat Demons puke?"

 Anyone can tell Wesley is recalling a moment when he learned about the demon copycat puking

 "Paddle ball." Wesley said, catching Hyle off gaurd. 

For all Hyle knew, Wesley could be a exaggerated human who is not up to date with demon speaking.

 "I will tell you the truth!" Hyle finally gave up.

Doyle lets the boy go.

 "He' Baskel Lobby  Hotel." Hyle covers a part of his bleeding neck. He glares at Doyle. "I...really...hate Brachens."

  Doyle pats Hyle's shoulders.

 "Ya will hate dah scourge, too, or later; some of them are Brachens." Doyle said, giving him the most useful knowledge a copy-cat demon can ever get. "Now scram before I let dis demon hunter kill ya."

 Wesley lets his stake be seen, by pulling back a part of his peach jacket.

 Hyle runs away from the duo.

Doyle morphs into his human form.

 "Were you a teacher for High school?" Wesley asks, a little curious to know. He could be a teacher for a high school, Wesley thought. High School's over.

Doyle shrugs.

 "I taught third graders." Doyle said, with a chuckle. "Does lyin' come with being a Demon Hunter? I haven't seen one lie dis much in over...two years!"

 Wesley sheepishly smiles.

 "I've done it once or twice," Wesley puts his wizard book away. "Some of it is not admirable." He reaches his hand out. "I am Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. Everyone calls me--"

 "Wesley, I know."  Doyle interrupts him, shaking Wesley's hand.  "Doyle, just Doyle."

Wesley raises a brow

 "Glad to meet you in person, Doyle." Wesley said, ending the hand shake. His eyebrow settles down.

 Doyle looks at him strangely.

 "In person?..." Doyle then gets confused.  He looks over his shoulder.  Then Doyle turns his head towards Wesley and folds both his arms. "Please, tell me ya are not a friend of some Psychic eye surgeon."

 Wesley shook his head, with a laugh.

 "No," Wesley assures him. "I am not."

     Wesley explains to Doyle these dreams he's been having (except for the part where Cordelia is being held back by Dean at the end of his latest dream).Doyle finds him to be a lucky man to have painless dreams. Wesley stopped explaining how he knew by the Buffy incident. Yet, Wesley didn't tell the dreams involving the future without Doyle.

      "So other than that," Wesley said, sliding his hands in front himself as though he is smoothing out a bed sheet. "I have no idea why you made enemy out of a 270 year old  Killanobi demon;  He's not as dangerous as  Angel. But Torture is...That is his hobby."

 Doyle rubs the back of his neck.

 "Heh," Doyle said, but the word 'Killanobi' didn't ring a bell. He stops rubbing his neck and directs his attention to  Wesley. "What is...a Killanobi?"

 "Doyle, he's never been killed before." Wesley warns him. "If he did come from a place such as Normandy where everything is recorded then we would have known. Unfortunately he comes from Africa; Scotland Yard had some records that had date when he arrived in London and where he came from."

 Doyle rubs his temples.

 "That is awful." Doyle said, as there are a group of greedy demons coming down the hall towards where the duo.

 A axe struck through the wall  across from the men.

"I told you they were here!" Hyle shouts, pointing at their direction.


    Wesley and Doyle escaped from the old building by using a secret passage-way that had been under the axe. Wesley insisted on bringing the axe. Doyle had this strange feeling that something is not right as he took his stake and bow (This did not come with a vision).While going through this passageway Wesley suggested they go to Qurden's house. Qurden's house has many things demons consider not to have.

  Qurden's house is better than getting killed.

   "How come ya know where ta Qurden's house when ya can't find the right grocery store?" Doyle asks, as they are standing at the front door of Qurden's house. "And if ya have been here before, I would have known."

  Qurden's house is a two building with a front porch painted blue, dead grass, clean path to the front door, clean floorboards, a mailbox beside the gate that has too much mail inside, and some windows are rounded or square shaped. It would have been completed if there were backyard lawn chairs. The flowers set on the wooden rails are alive unlike their dead front yard grass counterparts.

 "We...had a little field trip here," Wesley admits, he takes a white suit out from the bushes beside the small stairs leading to the porch. "Most people consider this house a dictionary of what Demon's hate; I mean what they all hate."  He comes back holding the suit. "From toys, food, to animals."

 Doyle's attention shifts from Wesley to the suit.

 "Is that a formal tuxedo?" Doyle asks, as Wesley held it.

Wesley laughs.

 "No." Wesley wipes off a tear. "It's a Biohazard suit, for you."

Wait, Doyle thought,He just brought me to a house that has  weaknesses for Demons, where Qurden lives!

 "I don't get it." Doyle starts,  looking through the window on the door to see what is ahead of the doorway. He changes his attention from the door to Wesley. "Qurden's a Demon. How in dah world can he live in there?"

"Medical Examiner Demons have weaknesses like humans," Wesley explains to Doyle, using it as a liberty to show off what he has learned from The school of Wizardy/slayer. He  made sure there is no one watching them before continuing. "No matter what  MDE's say (Short for Medical Examiner Demon) about their weaknesses; don'tt believe it. Now put this Bio Hazard suit on. There's a part of the house that doesn't  have what can hurt Brachens."

  Doyle takes the Bio Hazard suit and he reluctantly puts it on.

  Wesley presses the yellow doorbell after Doyle got in.

 "Don't  think about taking a picture of me in this." Doyle warns Wesley,  being in the biohazard suit. The Biohazard suit has some twigs and dirt on it but no sight of holes are obvious on it. It made Dyle look like he is wearing a version of a spacesuit and beekeeper suit put together.

Wesley has a short laugh.

 "What happens in Los Demonio stays in Los Demonio " Wesley promises the Half-demon. Glad I am not part demon, Wesley thought back, Or else I would need one too. Regular, everyday people do not consider having Biohazard suits everywhere they go....except for one detective in San Francisco.

  Doyle points at him.

 "I see what ya did dere." Doyle catches on what Wesley just did.

Wesley's promise is the equivalent of 'What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas'.


Doyle and Wesley's visibly jump, both turned white at the sound of a creepy-unsettling noise.

 "Friends of my husband Qurdy?"  Qurden's wife, Merry Jane, is a cute female looking demon. To be really precise, she has wild hair that pokes up regardless of it being up in a pony tail, she has hard ridges around her ears, soft chin, blue buttoned up shirt, black pants, red eyes, ear-rings on,and has small green thorns sticking from visible parts of her skin.

   Doyle and Wesley could not speak.

 "You two should know..." Merry said, opening the door wide. Her kindness is apparently radiating off her body. "The grass is not dead. So please, come in!"

 Doyle looks over his shoulder to see a dark green, wide leaf shaped object standing in the corner of the fence.

 "Glad to know you remembered about the bio Hazard suits." Merry said, stepping to the side of the door.

 Wesley and Doyle stumble in.

"Ow." Wesley complains but then he gets up, straightens  his jacket and dusts off whatever collected on his pants. "Name still Mary?"

  Merry touches her chest, quite disgusted.

 "It's Merry," Merry corrects him, loosing some respect for the rogue demon hunter.

 Doyle gets upright,

"Another demon with a strange name, twice."  Doyle muttered, helping himself up by a railing attached  right beside the door.

  Merry's red eyes become small and return to their normal size.

 "Are you insane?" Merry asks, her friendly face turned into a face that didn't want someone who had a bad reputation in their house. She closes the door after the men were out of the doorway. Her eyes were not only bright. They are downright saying 'give me a good reason not to kick you out'.

 Doyle laughs, as Wesley is struggling to come up with a response.

 "No." Wesley finally said. "But I think your husband could help us."

   Merry guides them to a section of the house that did not have weapons, plants, or materials that could cause harm to Brachen demons. They came to the other side of the house, in the quarters that Qurden told her to refer as ‘The living room’. There is tea on the living room coffee table.  Before Doyle could sit down, he just had to take the biohazard suit off.

  That caught Merry off-guard to see him as a human.

 “He’s su-su-su-pposed to be a Brachen demon.” Merry stutters, her fingers trembling. “Not a human.”

 Doyle rubs his eyes.

 “He’s half Brachen Demon,” Wesley said. “Looks aren’t all that telling.”

 “At first ya act like ya heard of me, but ten, ya are surprised ta see me.” Doyle shook his head, and sighs.  He and Wesley sit on the couch. “Dat is a poor reputation. At least dah Scourge doesn’t know.” He frowns knowing she is still staring at him. Doyle waves his right hand. “Please, stop gawkin' at me.”

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