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A brown, broad-brimmed hat passed through the darkened alley. A cold, slightly caustic rain had begun to fall, sending small waves of water from the figure's running feet. Just once, he slipped--and there was the sound of a third splash as the figure righted himself.

He turned a corner to see a familiar form blocking his way.

"Stop." said Darrus, ten feet from the figure.

The figure stood stock still.

"It looks as though much has, in fact, changed." Darrus looked the figure up and down. "You included."

There was no reply.

"I finally figured it out, and I think you wanted me to. You do know that I can't let you run free. I've been sent to retrieve you, or destroy you if it's more convenient." said Darrus. "Of course, this could just be a horrible misunderstanding. But I don't think it is. Are you some confused junky, or are you the spawn of a twisted and guilty mind, given corporeal form by the pits of Hell?"

The figure's answer did not come in words. Darrus simply knew he was right.

"I'm impressed, Szziszzigji. Your knack for survival always impressed me, and you've taken it to new limits, evading Hell itself. But you're a loose cannon, now. With no one holding your leash, you have the potential to be a liability. I know you can't resist my orders. Now, come on, we're going back to Hell now."

The figure's face twisted into rage. Darrus felt a new sentiment invade his skull.

"It's not a question of wanting." said Darrus. "No one wants to be there, not even Lucifer! But you have to come back now. You're a Nightmare--your place is in the Nightmaritorium, or in the minds of men, not in their world."

Szziszzigji drew up to his full height, which Darrus estimated to be over seven feet. He remained humanoid in appearance. "I--was." he rasped. The accent was heavy, like a young child's.

"You're smart, Szziszzigji, I've never doubted it. Show me another being that takes less than a week to learn how to make itself human and learn to talk. But you're harboring Fury energy, and if you resist, I won't hesitate to kill you."

"I--will--not--go--with--you." Was the Nightmare's halting reply.

"You saved my life, and that means something to me." said Darrus. "You took out that Fury when no one else could. For that I am grateful--don't make me kill you, Szziszzigji. I don't want to kill you."

Szziszzigji hesitated a moment, then spoke more quickly than before. "It's not a question of want-ing." With an unearthly wail, Szziszzigji's humanoid form erupted into its true shape. A pair of curved horns on either side of a red mohawk capped a hideous, fanged head. Two assymetrical arms jutted from Szziszzigji's side, a tentacle beneath the left. A double-tipped tail unwound from between its shoulderblades, while the entire structure of the Nightmare balanced on an imperfect tripod of legs varying in length. Its horns were inches from a second story window.

Darrus recieved the impression that Szziszzigji's place was right here, and this was an idea it would die for. Or more precisely, kill for.

Szziszzigji's full glory was visible for only a moment before it faded from view. Szziszzigji had the power to become invisible, one of the things that made it so dangerous. A human would have been entirely outmatched, but Darrus had senses no human possessed. His hearing was sharp enough to hear Szziszzigji's footsteps. Darrus was well aware when it made a sharp move to its left, trying to sneak around Darrus and attack from the side. He could see a fire escape bend as Szziszzigji lifted itself up and over Darrus' form. Darrus hand went into his coat.

Szziszzigji slipped down the wall, behind Darrus. The rain rippled off Szziszzigji's unseen form, further outlining it to Darrus' senses. Darrus hadn't moved. The trick was to make Szziszzigji think it was outsmarting him. He had worked with Szziszzigji many times before; he knew its strategies, and more importantly, its limitations. He could tell by the echo that Szziszzigji was too far away to strike.

Just as it moved in, Darrus spun around and withdrew the net from his coat, tossing it over the Nightmare in a single movement.

"Sorry, Szziszzigji. You know that net won't break. You've lost."

The Nightmare snarled beneath the net. It had extended over its entire form. Szziszzigji faded back into view.

"Now, then, let's get back to--"

As Darrus bent down to grab the net, Szziszzigji's hands melted and shot through the holes in the net. Before Darrus could react, they slashed at his arm, tearing straight through it. Darrus reflexively leapt backward, but the claws tore straight through and severed his right arm at the elbow. A substance entirely too gray to be blood oozed from the wound. It reeked of sulphur.

Darrus stared in disbelief at his wound. Demons were invulnerable to the mundane energies exhibited by the inhabitants of Earth, but could be harmed by the divine energies of those that existed outside it. The destruction of the Fury had been the last time Darrus had felt pain, but nothing like this. For a split second, Darrus' memory went back to Darius Briggs, and that dim, dirty room where he had died at the hands of Edwin Rass. One of the last tortures Rass had inflicted was the amputation of Darius' right arm.

"You shapeshifting bastard." spat Darrus, clutching the wound. Szziszzigji was flowing through the net, leaving Darrus no option but to retreat down the alley, trailing his sulphuric blood behind him. His remaining arm went into his coat, coming back with a single pill in a blister packet.

Szziszzigji seemed to recognise the pill, and struck. His arm stretched, closing the gap between them. Szziszzigji's hand closed around Darrus', digging through the wrist.

A bullet lodged in Szziszzigji's neck, coming from the other end of the alley. Szziszzigji turned its head.

Another Darrus smiled at him, holding a smoking gun in one hand. Some smiles showed mirth; this one showed only teeth.

"Tell me something, Szziszzigji." said the second Darrus. "If I wasn't willing to tackle a Fury alone, why would I attack a Nightmare/Fury hybrid by myself?"

Waves of confusion radiated from the Nightmare.

"You've heard of a Doppelganger, correct? Demons that mimick the form of another individual? Well, one of us is Darrus, the other is a Doppelganger. Can you tell the difference?"

Szziszzigji threw the wounded Darrus to the ground and charged down the alley. The wounded demon climbed to his feet and downed the pill. The wounds closed, and a new arm lowered from the torn coat sleeve. He withdrew his gun and fired a half-dozen shots into Szziszzigji's retreating form.

"You'll have to; the Doppelganger isn't empowere to kill you, but Darrus is. Of course, Darrus doesn't want to kill you. Surrender, and all this can go away!"

Szziszzigji snarled in pain, then turned and faced the Darrus he had wounded--then did something Darrus hadn't anticipated--he melted. Both Darruses quickly closed the distance between them, but Szziszzigji was sinking into the street.

"Damn!" said the formerly wounded Darrus. "A sewer grate!"

Szziszzigji's liquid form had withdrawn into New Liberty's sprawling sewer system.

"Dahl, I owe you one." said Darrus. The other Darrus flickered for a moment, changing into the shape of a young man with waste-length black hair. He nodded. "But I'm going after him."

"Alone?" asked Dahl.

"Too risky, but there's not enough room for more down there. Tell Cankerworm to have a squad of Guardians at the ready. If it hurts me again, I want it dead before it knows what's happening."

"Understood." said Dahl.

Darrus pulled the grating from its rest and leapt into the darkness below.

"But I hope it doesn't come to that." Darrus said to the darkness.