Upbeat Hyena 9 (Patreon)

Upbeat Hyena
Chapter 9

-VB-

Jan 8, 1995

When one thousand citizens stood before the Seattle Municipal Building, something was going on.

That something was the recently elected mayor’s inaugural address to the people of Seattle.

A tall and strong man in his late forties stood before a podium and in front of his audience of over a thousand citizens.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Seattle, its council, school committees, and other distinguished guests, I, Emile McCartes, welcome you to a new day and a happy new year.

“First off, let me begin by offering my heartfelt thanks to the people of Seattle for giving me their votes, and I swear once more to uphold the promises of my campaign. I love Seattle and its people, and your trust in me has brought me to tears on more than one occasion!” he said with a brilliant white smile.

“Second, it is an honor to be your new mayor and my promise to you has not changed from the days of my grassroots campaigns: Seattle has come under assault by those who would see us fall! Seattle is strong, it is not weak, and it will not allow the depraved and degenerates to bring us to our knees! To the parahuman criminals out there, be warned. I bring not the compromise of weak-willed politicians or the red-tape-bound policies of the police. I bring to the table the experience and connections of the United States of America’s very own army! Criminals who strut through our streets thinking that you own this city, I laugh at you! The people of Seattle laughs at you as one! We will no longer watch as you burn our city around us! We will no longer allow you to take our children for your sick slave trade! We will no longer sit idle behind the promises of worthless politicians who only wanted votes!”

He slammed his fist onto the podium.

“I tell you now: no more!”

“NO MORE!” his supporters in the crowd roared with him.

“This is our land! This is our city!” he roared after them as he slammed a finger down for emphasis. “Did you think that we would have stood by and done nothing? Did you think that you could continue your atrocities and ply your poison?! I tell you now again: no more!

“Do not expect mercy from this city anymore! Crawl during the day and sneak during the night, because if you do anything else, you will see the full might of the Seattle police department’s unrestrained force come after you! No holds bar! We will drag you and your crimes to light, kicking and screaming!”

Having leaned forward halfway through his speech, the mayor slowly pulled back and swiped his hair over his head.

“The truth of the matter, ladies and gentlemen of Seattle, is that our city is sick. It is filled with racists, murderers, rapists, and drug dealers. I, a former army veteran, should be living my life in retirement doing what I love. Instead, you and I had to come up here to tell this message to the public.

“I want you all to remember this. I want this to end quickly. I have watched for half a decade with no changes. I, no we, watched the city start its slow tumble. During what should have been Seattle’s happy day, the city’s birthday, last year on November 13, we were met not with glee and joy but with anger and grief as the villain Tornado killed a hundred innocent bystanders before being fatally shot right here in front of this building.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the city is tired. We are tired of this nonsense. It means that even the tiniest of evidence will be used against you for any connection to the gangs and parahuman criminals. There will be no mercy. There will be only cold and calculated removal of all things criminal in this city.

“This is my message to the corrupted: beware. Seattle has awakened and seeks to remove the pests that plague it. To the people of Seattle: I am here. I will fulfill my promise to you. Thank you.”

-VB-

With his inaugural address delivered safely and with approval from all those he needed the approval from, Emile came back home, driven there by his personal assistant/acolyte. He got out of the car wordlessly while his acolyte left to park the car, and walked into his home.

The house was quiet, which was normal when his wife and children were out.

“Congratulations are in order, Priest McCartes.”

Emile paused. He was inside his own house, surrounded by protections provided by his benefactors, and - most importantly - married to one of the demons. The last fact gave him personal improvements that very few would have the honor of having, and through that blessing, he knew instinctively who the person behind him was.

Slowly, he turned around with his head bowed towards the voice, a voice all too familiar that reverberated through his body, and knelt submissively.

“I welcome you to my home, [Prince of Demons],” he greeted calmly. As calmly as he could. Or tried to be calm. Who the fuck wouldn’t be shaking in their boots after learning that the Prince was in their home and had walked in right behind him?

“Oh, stand up, young man! I am not someone so vain as to harm you for little things like that,” the charming voice of the [Prince of Demons] chided playfully as he helped him up. “Besides, this is your house, not mine!”

‘No, but you are someone who has killed hundreds on a whim,’ Emilte thought within the safety of his own mind. “As you say, Your Grace.”

“It’s been months since I saw you, but I guess it takes that long if you’re running for the mayor, eh?” the black-haired prince hummed appreciatively.

Emile took in the sight before him. The prince stood in human flesh, and it was a young body more akin to a teenager than an adult. This notorious form was one the prince used to lure his victims, whether they be bewitched women or men to be served up as food for the [Prince of Demons]. To see this form before him was not calming. It sickened him, especially seeing it so quickly after his mayoral inauguration.

“Seriously, relax, Priest McCartes,” the prince grinned. “If it makes you feel better, we can talk outside. It won’t irritate me in any way.”

If there was one thing that Emile could trust, however, then it was the fact that the prince never lied.

But he did have a long memory.

“I am honored to have you in my home, my prince,” he bowed slightly instead. “Would you like refreshments?”

“No. I’m just here to see how you and Catherine are.”

“Happy. My prince,” he quickly replied. Oh sure, he and Catherine might have had a verbal fight yesterday over something inane, but they were happy. Even if he wasn’t happy with this marriage, he wasn’t going to say that to the prince’s face not after the prince himself blessed them.

“Good. I’m happy to hear that,” the prince hummed appreciatively with a teeth-filled smile. “Ahhh… It’s been some time since I left my realm. How is it here in Seattle?”

This was familiar ground that he could center himself on. “Parahuman gangs are on the rise, my prince.”

“Tell me more,” he said as he walked over to Emile’s living room, seated himself in the most comfortable armchair - Emile’s personal armchair - and gestured for him to continue.

Emile followed obediently and remained standing, because obviously something he said had piqued the interest of the [Prince of Demons] into staying for a while.

“There are four major parahuman gangs. The most numerous of them are the Torchbearers. They are, in the most perfect definition of the words, looters and pillagers. They care about nothing more than their immediate satisfaction. They operate out of Eastside and attacking away from the city.”

“They seem … delicious,” the prince remarked absentmindedly.

“They are definitely the kinds of sinners you look for, my prince.”

“And the other three?”

“Of the four, three operate directly within Seattle’s city boundaries, though they may also operate elsewhere simultaneously. The weakest of the four but perhaps the most well-liked of them all are the Seattle-branch of the Uppermost, a parahuman rogue group that has its roots and main headquarter in San Francisco in California. They do their best to cooperate with the industries and the norms of society.”

“A road paved to hell with good intentions.”

He wasn’t sure what the prince meant by that, but he was known to make odd comments.

Something to share with his wife later.

“Of the last two, the more accepted gang is the Parahuman Response Team.”

“You call them a gang?”

“They only protect those who are rich, much like how a gang ‘protects’ only those who pay them protection fee.”

The prince chuckled. “Amusing comparison, though you know as well I do that it’s a little bit of a faulty comparison.”

Emile ignored that comment, because if he started back talking now, then he wasn’t sure when he would stop as he escalated. The safe bet was to not back talk to a god. “And the last gang is the 5th Street Fibbers.”

“That’s … a weird name.”

“Everyone thinks it’s a weird name. They think it’s hilarious.”

“Ah. It’s one of those ‘inside joke’ names. What about hero teams?”

“None worth speaking about, my prince,” he said with a small bow.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop bothering you then.”

And then silence.

When Emile looked back up, the prince was gone.

It was only then that he relaxed.

It’s been whole four years since the last time the [Prince of Demons] had stepped out of his realm outside of answering to sacrifices.

This … was going to be an interesting time.