Walkway

Pausing, the hair on the back of his neck stood up straight. He bristled, his muscles tense, at the chill voice speaking to him. There was, it seemed, someone nearby, but he had not sensed them until now, which, to say the least, unnerved him deeply. With his lips pulled back from his canines in half a snarl, he remained still, searching the area around him.
"Why should I answer a stranger on the topic of things with which he is not involved?" he asked quietly, searching through his memories for recognition of that voice.
A slight chill went up his spine as he locked onto a memory, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The breath went out from his lungs, though he tried to keep his shock contained. It was impossible, what he had found, and more than frightening enough, even to one who had felt no such fear since the time he was little. He whirled about to face the newcomer.

*disappears once again from Logan's senses, as an illusory double appears behind him, whispering in his ear*
It seems the poor puppy is afraid.
*smirks*
I take it you remember me, then?

Restraining from striking out at him, Logan snarled under his breath, turning about slowly to find the original source of his torment. His fist was clenched, and his eyes flashed behind his charcoal lenses. White steam wafted eerily from his breath as the snow muffled all sound.
"I'm not afraid of you," he said quietly, "I'm afraid of what you've done. How could I forget the man who slaughtered my father right before my eyes?"
Struggling to regain his breath, he shut his eyes; he did not trust them. He took slow, deep breaths, in through his nose, out through his mouth. With each intake of air, he caught a faint scent, though it was not what he had expected. There was no trace of vampire on this man. That wasn't what he recalled as a child.
"But...you no longer smell like a vampire."

Oh, so you DO remember me this time... I'm flattered.
*smirks, changing his scent to that of a vampire, and displacing it away from his actual location*
Better?
*disappears again, this time speaking to Logan mentally, making his voice appear to be both near and far at once*
I did do that, didn't I?
*places an illusion-memory of his family member's deaths, as well as the (fictional) deaths of Izaya, and Luminesa*
And there they are again~ With a bonus.

"A bonus?" he rasped, fighting the urge to retch."What are you?"
As if trapped upon a rollercoaster he frantically wished to quit, he felt his airwasy close and his internal organs flipflop, dropping through his stomach and into the ground. Or, in this case, lack thereof, for he could feel nothing beneath him, mentally or physically, that would keep him up. Macabre scenes of past and fictional torment flitted past his eyes, ingrained upon his memory forevermore; he could not remove them no matter how desparately he tried. His legs shook as he stood tall, though, knuckles clenched until white.
"Get out of my head..."

*continues speaking to Logan mentally, merely because it bothered him*
A saint who lives the life of a sinner, one might say.
*walks up to the addled werewolf and spins, planting his foot firmly into Logan's jaw and knocking him to the ground*
But to you, I'm your worst nightmare, come back to haunt you.

Falling back with a curse, he quickly caught himself on the icy cement. His shoulder twisted, but the pain was a refreshing jolt, temporarily breaking him free of the illusions. A blurry shape stood over him as he quickly stood to his feet, rubbing his jaw, visible for the briefest of moments before the illusions returned.
"Back to haunt me? No shit sherlock," he growled, striking out quickly at where the demon should have been.
Expecting, or, rather, knowing that his hit would not connect, he struck out anyway, the release of power and heat distracting him from the mental torment. It was not in his nature to fight wildly, but when there were little to no other choices, it soothed him to at least try. His breathing had turned ragged, grating against his own ears as he searched blindly for his opponent, his eyes shut; they would do him no good.
"The question is why! Why did you attack my family? Why are you here again?!"

Relying on hearing, hm? Too bad it won't--
*cuts off Logan's hearing before he finishes talking, just for the dramatic effect, whist continuing talking to him mentally*
I hate to break it to you Logan, but your family's death was strictly business.
*pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in*
A merc has to earn his wages, and someone wanted to stir up trouble between the lycans and vampires. Your village was chosen at random.
*smirks*
Just a name drawn out of hat, in fact.
*pauses, walking around Logan, and converting his rosary into its revolver form*
I didn't hate you then, puppy, but then you had to go out and do something stupid.
*resists the call of the anger, boiling in his blood, to kill the mutt and get it over with*
You killed her. And now you've got a sizable debt to pay.
*takes careful aim, shooting through the flesh at the back of his knee, destroying his kneecap as the bullet passed out the other side*
And I intend to collect.

Pain exploded, quite literally, as his kneecap shattered, the bullet "ping"ing sharply off the icy road. With a muffled shout of pain, Logan struggled to keep his balance, only to collapse onto the ice. His hands burned in the cold as they pressed palm-down to the walkway. Warmth leeked slowly from his leg as he panted in pain, gritting his teeth. Black stars and flashes of color swam in his vision, sharp and too bright. Groaning, he pushed himself up slowly and painfully, his senses so addled that, for once, he was unprepared for what had happened. He had nearly forgotten how much it hurt to be shot, as well.
"Kill her...?" he uttered quietly, "That vampire girl, Alice...?"

*walks over to him, kicking him in the ribs, a smile crossing his face as they gave with a satisfying crack*
The likes of you has no right to say her name.
*rolls Logan onto his stomach, and steps down on his back with no small amount of satisfaction*
Not now, not ever.

Feeling his ribs crack, he let out no noise, finally adjusting himself to the pain. Though his breathing became more labored, he persisted in fighting the ache. At odds with being treated so, he pushed himself up, despite Judas' foot upon his spine.
"I only killed her...because of what you and the rest of those worthless leeches did to my family...I made no excuses," he paused to yelp deeply in pain, "to Izaya, and I make none to you. My question now is that, if my killing her as a result of being unable to let my past go...if that is so bad, then why do you persist in the same track? Revenge gets us nowhere."
His head felt heavy and he fought back the urge, once more, to retch. With his stomach heaving and his muscles shaking, he refused, still to back down. The agony speared his vision in bright colors and dark gashes, only increasing in frequency as he struggled to fight it.

*lifts his foot off of Logan for a moment, as he pulled a cigarette (and lighter) from his pocket and lit it, before speaking again*
Feh. I guess we're both hypocrites then.
*summons a pillar of earth, again striking Logan in the ribs and launching him high in the air, before disappearing and letting him fall to the ground*
Answer me this then Logan. If revenge gets us nowhere, then why does it feel So. Damn. Good?

Nausea overwhelmed him as he was launched again, and he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Landing, though painfully so, on his feet, he spat out a large amount of blood, dark and thick. It looked as sickly as he felt, his eyes wavering as he tried to focus on his surroundings. He had no chance to fight back, this he knew, but he would stand his ground. His attacker had the power, surely, to kill him. This, simply, was not his intention.
"Never claimed to be anything else," he muttered, his hand over his chest as he coughed up more blood, "I know what I am. And why does it f-feel good? Because," he laughed bitterly, "Because it makes us feel as if we have the power we once lacked to prevent the tragedy from ever happening."

*nods to himself, almost thoughtfully*
That's as good a reason as any that I've heard.
*shoots out Logan's other knee, forcing him back to the ground*
That being said, it's still not going to make me stop.

Brought to his knees at last, Logan yelled out at the agony of having both his kneecaps shattered. With the impact of said shattered bones on the icy ground, he snarled in pain, his shoulders shaking as he vomitted blood and stomach acid. The cold was creeping in as his body drew what warmth it could to heal his injuries. As his head swam with the anguish of his wounds and mental torment, making him dizzy.
"Nor will your petty revenge make me regret what I've done," he muttered darkly, coughing. "It won't bring her back, either."

*a dark look briefly rolls across Judas' face*
You're two for two there, mutt.
*takes a deep drag on his cigarette, before exhaling*
I wouldn't be able to face her again, anyways, after what I've done.
*pauses for a moment, as his smirk returns*
You call my revenge "petty" as if it's finished. You have loved ones, don't you?
*begins shutting off Logan's remaining senses*
But for now, you must sleep.
*finishes his task, and places the rosary atop Logan's forehead, healing his wounds, while removing the memories of his appearance, the sound of his voice, and his scent, leaving just the memory of the pain and the contents of his speech behind, and presenting these as nothing more than a dream*
We have lots of fun to enjoy yet, Logan, and I'd hate to spoil it all now.
*carries Logan back to his bed and leaves him there, before departing*

Before Logan could begin to question this man, this revenge-bent demon, as to what he meant and why he was healing his wounds, he felt himself slipping further away into oblivion. His body grew heavy, his breathing more labored. He felt panicked, suffocated, as if stuck in a horrible nightmare; exactly the effect which his tormentor seemed to have in mind. Speaking quietly, he muttered a curse and something more to the man, a threat which came in the form of a promise.
"Do what you want to me, but if you, in any way, harm my sister, or Izaya, you will regret the day with every breath still left in your body that you were born..."

“The day is rather depressing... and someone's near.”

Luminesa's hand was tightly wound around Logan's as her eyes scanned the visible area of their property. Maybe if they ever returned, they'd keep this house; though, the Hunters were never that kind. With a shake of her head, the younger sister simply continued to tread the snow that crunched underneath her feet, her disconnected gaze recalling every event that had occurred sine their arrival. At some time, the memories became hazy, but the more they were thought of, the less foggy they became.

Recognizing Luminesa's uneasiness and transferring the feeling to himself, he repressed a growl. Gently, he pulled his sister closer to him and looked about the area, halting in near the same spot he had been in the last time Judas approached him. Muttering under his breath something to her about keeping close, he pulled his bow down and notched an arrow, a cold, hard grin on his face.
"Perhaps that dream was more a premonition than a nightmare," he muttered, brows drawn, "in which case, I should be more ready."

*smirks*
You'll never truly be ready, Logan.
*appears several feet away from the siblings in illusory form, an exaggerated frown spread across his face*
Turning tail so soon?
*shifts his rosary into its revolver form, lazily spinning it around one finger*
How dull. Things were just getting started, too.[code]

Luminesa's wrist glowed white as a staff almost thrice her height formed in her palm. With narrow eyes and a nose to the air, the wind currents seemed to not touch the body of the demon.

“Don't disrespect us by speaking to us in a false form, you...”

"Demon," he snarled, "Perhaps that was not a dream, then. Your quarrel is with me, is it not? Leave my sister alone."
Protectively, Logan took a stance in front of his sister, his lips pulled back from his canines in half a silent snarl. Still exhausted, mentally, from his last encounter with the demon, he pulled all his strength into this last resolve; this torment would end tonight. it was easy enough, he thought, to place the blame of a single event upon an entire race, or even upon this one person. Easier yet, he laughed, to simply blame anyone who was not oneself. Perhaps it was time he took responsibility for his actions.
"I killed your Alice," he said, the steel in his eyes unmistakable of his hunter persona, "And I regret if only for the effect which it had upon someone I have come to care about. Are you going to continue the same cycle of revenge which lead her to die?"

*gives a nod to Luminesa but does not oblige her*
T'would hardly be sporting. There's two of you, and only one of me.
*turns his attention to Logan, with a grin*
Of course.
*chuckles to himself*
Do you mistake me for the priest I appear to be?

“Shut up, demon.”

Realizing the severity of the situation, Luminesa shifted her weapon back to its bracelet form and stepped forward in front of Logan, her gait calm and her expression placid and slightly nostalgic. With all the sincerity in her voice, she closed her eyes and spoke to the demon.

“We, my brother and I, are sorry the death of your sister, Alice. You are not the only one that suffers with her loss. You should know that a human woman named Izaya also suffers because of our past hatred. Realize and understand we have both lost ones we love because of each other. It's not pleasant. And I for one refuse to relive it. So right now, we draw a stalemate and move on. No more revenge.”

Finishing with a sigh, she lowered her brother's weapon and took his hand, walking past the demon without fear but rather, pity, her gaze never wavering from the destinations further ahead.

“They are both resting in peace, so let us do the same in this life while we can. Come brother, we have a new chapter to begin.”

Stunned into silence by his sister braveness, though he had long known she had it in her, Logan simply went numb. Luminesa's chill touch brought him back to life only momentarily, enough to willingly lower his weapon. Exhaling a held breath, he placed himself carefully between Judas and his sister as they passed. He nodded absently to her request for a new chapter. His knuckles were still white around his weapon as he held it tightly.
"As you wish, sister dearest."