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Summary
"Finally decide to join the living, Reid?" The jab, though normally in jest, was a sign fostered in good intentions over the years. Though now, Jonathan couldn't help but wince slightly at the bitterness that seeped into Geoffrey's voice.
"What happened here, McCullum?" His attention was split between the disheveled hunter, adorned in similar robes as himself though far more stained and torn in places from a hard fought battle. Jonathan had a sense that Geoffrey wore them well, despite it not being normal for the hunter. It was fitting, with the undying confidence he exuded everywhere he went.
"These aren't like any skals or sewer beasts I've ever seen before." Jonathan lamented.
"Cause they aren't vampires." Geoffrey spoke frankly.
"What? Then what are they?"
"Ever heard of an Oni?" Geoffrey asked, carefully sliding the blade back into the sheath until it was snug. He admired the weapon a moment more, neglecting to meet Jonathan's eye as he did so. A subtle sign that he was thinking on something hard.
"No."
"They're like demons from Japanese mythology." Geoffrey added, distracted as he looked around the room at the growing puddles of putrid bodies.