Brennan was far from subtle as he trudged through the thick, tangled, unruly undergrowth of the woodland. It truly had grown in since the last time he was here. In truth, the man could also very well be lost. But there was a signature, stained upon the very earth, as though a shroud of doomsday and deathly silence that so reminded him of that hellscape, hung thick in the air. Not good, he was a shitty warlock but he could feel that absence of life, the way his magic wanted to curl up into itself to suffocate and die. It felt about right.. He hadn't the faintest idea of how to go about closing the gaping hole that led from this world, into that one. It was about time he was accountable for it, besides, he needed to be fully focused on the demon that was going to claim his debts rather than dealing with the assault of demonic creatures.

That was when he realized he was being followed, through that deafening quiet he heard that rustling, that loud snap of a branch. What better way to deal with a monster than to call it out head on? His stance was poised, a sense of challenge flared within his silvery blue eyes and ready to defend what was left of his very life. Whether it was worth saving, preserving, he wasn't sure about any of it. But he wasn't just going to roll over and take it like a cheap whore. No, one thing Brennan was, even if he was a lot of things, including the unfavorable kind. He was a fighter, through and through. That summoned weapon already found its familiar place within his hand as the warlock searched for the sound of that commotion. His jaw clenched, and murder danced within his eyes. He was ready for this to be over, for these demonic creatures to stop. After all, it was mere children's play next to the real thing. It was a waste of his god damn time.

His mind lingered to the demon, the very creature that was made up of death with a somewhat human face. What if this was him? No.. this felt different. He would have known, he was certain about that.

Brennan knew he was close to that gateway, in fact, he now began to feel its presence like a throbbing heartbeat. That wasn't there before. As the deathly silence that reminded him so much of that hell made him on edge, that presence made him weary. He remembered the screams of the bloodthirsty creatures, one after another and sometimes in unison like a symphony of demonic screeching songs. He could remember the cries of their prey being torn apart into bloody shreds. He could see nothing, hear nothing.

That was when it happened. The creature he had to face was not one spat up like vomit from the bowels of hell. It was much worse and yet so much better. His stomach felt like lead when he heard her voice and saw that face.. It was the very woman that he had tried so desperately to avoid. Dealing with emotions were not this warlock's strong suit. He didn't know how to say that it gut him that she moved on, that he couldn't bear to look at her perfect face. He couldn't stand to acknowledge he could no longer touch her, that she was the very reason why he hung on and survived hell itself with that worn photograph that still lingered in his pocket. A roguish grin slid upon his lips, but his mouth went dry. God damn.

"Serafina." His words fall almost helplessly from his lips, her name so familiar, perhaps even comforting in an admittedly misplaced way. He was thoroughly fucked. He knew how to deal with a creature from hell.. But this. He was entirely clueless. I didn't mean to let you down. I can't stand being around you knowing your heart belongs to another.

She demanded where he was.. You don't want to know, Brennan thought. "I've been doing whatever you think I have been doing." He responded devilishly, antagonistic as always. Knowing all too well it probably wasn't anything good, exactly what she should think of him. How she had ever loved him was beyond him. He could deal with her scorn, her hatred for him. It made things much easier. "What the hell are YOU doing here? You shouldn't be here." He insisted, knowing all too well the reaction he was going to get. Plus, she was damn sexy when she was pissed and it was just so easy to piss her off. Especially as she put her hands on her hips and wrinkled her nose. What he didn't realize was that he stunk like sulfur and whatever the hell that goo monster smelled like. He couldn't scent himself anymore, so that was a good thing for him, but a terrible thing to everything else he came across. Maybe it was him who cleared the forest.

At least this was something that he could be entirely honest about. Kinda. "What smell?" He questioned.

She took a step forward and he just about took another step forward as if about to engage in that dance they did so well. But he knew better. But for once he was frozen in place. "I had a run-in with one of those hell creatures.. I had a bitch of a time trying to dig out its heart. I was beginning to think he didn't have one. You would have hated it.. It was a slimy ball of stenchy goo. And the rest of it was all teeth. I don't know how it sniffed me out considering, well, he didn't have a nose." He shrugged as though it was just another Sunday. "Seriously. What the hell are you doing here? I doubt it just smelling the flowers and tending to the garden.. Did your mentor lure you out here?" Her ghost spies would constantly betray him. He fucking hated that mentor.. what he would give to bring him back just to kill the bastard himself.

He couldn't fight that concern, what if she came face to face with one of his atrocious creatures? Yet he did not let that worry show. Instead he spun that worry into an antagonizing smile, his eyes flash a devilish glow. "Care to give me a bath?" He challenged, his voice daring and provoking, an eyebrow arched upward. Oh he would enjoy that.. Especially if she joined him.

Brennan O'Connell