My name is Adriano.** I’m 18, and for two years, I’ve worn the uniform of the *Special Police*. We’re not your average cops chasing bank robbers. Our mission is public defense against demons—or "*extra-dimensional entities*," as scientists prefer. Whatever they are, 800 years ago, Earth’s animals underwent a bizarre mutation. The Church calls them *possessed*; science says they *evolved*. No one knows for sure. My family’s Christian, so… *demons* it is.
Not all animals changed, of course. If they had, goodbye steak. Cows, pigs, chickens, fish—those are still "*normal*." But as a precaution, keeping pets is banned under penalty of death. Raising kittens or dogs? Forget it. Meat, meanwhile, became a luxury. It’s been two years since I last tasted a good steak.
I live in **Benguela, Angola**. I joined the *Public Defense Force* at 16 because of my potential—most enlist at 18. Just as animals evolved, so did we. Some of us are born with powers: water, wind, demon control… Me? Let’s just say I’m good with swords. And fast. *Very* fast.
Back in the day, there were many of us. A bloody war against demons ravaged Africa. Now, we’re few. Attacks are rare—but brutal. When they happen, innocents die.
---
*“Adriano! Wake up, kid! We’ve got a call!”* The Boss’s voice yanked me from my thoughts.
*“I’m up, Boss. Where’s the trouble?”* I asked, yawning.
*“North side. A demon broke into a house.”*
*“No units closer?”*
*“Five men went in. Called for urgent backup. We’re the nearest.”*
We piled into the car—just the three of us: **Claudia**, the rookie, and the Boss. Our uniform? Suits and ties. We look like the *"Men in Black,"* as regular cops call us.
We reached **northern Lubango**. A house surrounded by squad cars. The Boss, scowling as usual, glared at the officer in charge.
*“Just you three?”* the cop asked, skeptical.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
*“Four ‘Men in Black’ already got slaughtered inside. This thing’s Rank B.”*
*“Rank B?”* Claudia gulped.
The *"Men in Black"* are classified **Z, S, A, B, C, D, E**. **E** is weak. **Z** is… apocalyptic.
*“Relax. We’ve got a Rank B right here,”* the Boss said.
*“Claudia, I sense monstrous energy inside. Probably B or C.”*
*“Move in,”* the Boss ordered.
*“Stand back! The ‘Men in Black’ are entering!”* the cop shouted.
The house was a horror show. A headless woman on the living room floor, blood everywhere.
*“Find it, Claudia,”* the Boss commanded.
*“Upstairs,”* she replied, tense.
I spotted a tuna can and a pet bowl on the floor. *They were keeping a cat.*
A child’s cry echoed from above. Claudia bolted for the stairs.
*“Claudia, wait!”* the Boss yelled.
A shadow lunged from the top of the stairs. Razor-sharp claws sliced the air—decapitating Claudia in one swipe.
A **cat demon**, human-sized, feline-faced, claws dripping blood.
The Boss fired six shots. One grazed the demon’s arm. *Too fast*, even in tight spaces. He kept shooting—special *fire bullets*. I charged, sword drawn.
The demon dodged, leaping at the Boss. A beam of energy shot from its mouth, hitting the bullet mid-air—and the Boss, who blocked with his arm. The deflected bullet struck the demon’s jaw.
I seized the opening. Channeled energy into my blade—a lightning slash. The demon’s leg flew off. It tried escaping through the window. The Boss fired an *impact round*.
Enraged, the demon unleashed another energy beam. The Boss’s bullet pierced through—direct hit to its mouth.
Weakened, it staggered. I leapt, sword raised. A vertical strike. A cutting arc of energy. The demon split in half. My eyes glowed red—like a panther’s.
*“They did it!”* the cops cheered in relief.
But the Boss just stared at Claudia’s body, face grim.
Officers swarmed the scene. I lit a cigarette, leaning against a squad car.
*“Boss… you upset about Claudia?”*
*“Yeah. But I’ve seen so many die… She was a rookie. Rank D. Rookies die fast.”*
*“Your arm okay?”*
*“Just a scratch. You?”*
*“Some burns from the beam. No big deal.”*
*“You always land the killing blow, huh? Rank B…”*
*“In the end, it’s always just us two.”*
*“Think I’ll retire. My wife had another kid… and this arm…”*
*“Doubt the brass will let you.”*
*“I’ll manage. By the way—they want you in the capital.”*
*“No way. That place is hell. If I go… I die. Rank A and S show up there. Heard a Z even appeared.”*
*“You can’t run forever. Someone’s snitching. Go home, rest. See you tomorrow.”*
*“What about Claudia’s funeral?”*
*“We’ll stop by tomorrow.”*
---
**Hours later, at home…**
*“Night, Grandpa.”*
*“How was work, Adriano? Saw it on the news.”*
*“Just another day. Gonna shower and sleep.”*
*“Not eating?”*
*He knows I skip meals when someone dies on the job…*
*“Adriano, showering?”* **Ana**, my four-year-old sister, asked.
*“Yeah…”*
*“The gas is almost out.”*
*“We’ll replace it tomorrow.”*
In bed, Claudia
’s face haunted me. Young, 23. *Another one.* Seven partners in two years.
The Public Defense Force shows no mercy.