Prologue: Samantha
Sam grit her teeth. That stupid red haired drunk was waving at her, demanding another beer, and staring at her chest.
Sam looked down at her breasts disdainfully. They were larger than average, not big enough to be extraordinary but more than enough to attract unwanted attention from perverts. Something that Sam absolutely hated receiving. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, and let it out through her mouth.
Just get it over with, the longer you ignore him the more obnoxious he'll get, and if you lose your temper you'll probably lose your job.
The thought became an inner mantra as she got another beer from the bar, placed it on her platter and brought it over to him. She forcefully slammed the bottle on the table with a loud 'clunk'.
"Anything else, sir?" she hissed.
If the man managed to sense any hostility he ignored it, and grinned.
"Sure darlin', how about we go out back and have some fun?" he asked, his eyes slipping up and down her body.
"Go fuck a cactus," snapped Sam, and she turned to leave.
"Don't be like that sweetheart, I got plenty of creds to make it worth your while."
Sam started back for the bar.
"Ah well, I guess I could always buy ya off your boss for the night."
Sam froze. Her hands started shaking.
This job sucks anyway.
She whipped around and threw the platter at the man. It struck him in the forehead, he cried out in pain as he fell out of his chair and onto the floor. Sam pounced onto him, held him down with her left arm and started pounding his face with her right.
She was vaguely aware that the people around her were starting to panic, but she didn't care, she just wanted to break the son of a bitch below her.
'Crunch', his nose broke.
'Crack', a tooth fell out of his mouth.
"Samantha!" Someone started pulling her off the man, she struggled.
"Sam calm the fuck down!" Sam grunted when she recognized the voice, it was her boss, Harry. She stopped struggling and started taking deep breaths.
"Thank you," grunted Harry. "Alright everyone listen up! We're closed, go home! Go on, get out of here! Jacob, Kate, you two take this man to the hospital, and be quick about it."
The people were all to eager to listen and filed out of the restaurant quickly. Jacob and Kate, two fellow waiters, helped the man to his feet and took him away.
Harry continued to hold onto Sam until they were alone.
"Can I trust you?" asked Harry.
"Yes."
He let her go. She turned to face him.
Harry was an average looking man. Brown hair and stubble, average height, average face, the only thing close to unique about him was his weight. That was mostly fat but some muscles managed to make themselves evident on his arms. At the moment said arms were crossed and he was shaking his head.
"I pull you off the streets, give you a room and a job, and this is how you thank me?" he asked.
Sam dusted herself off.
"He wanted to buy me," she growled.
Harry stared at her.
"Buy you? Come on Sam, you know that's ridiculous."
"You don't know shit," Sam spat.
Harry sighed.
"Look Sam, I'm not gonna say you're a good kid. I mean, I've known you for what? A week? But I will say that anyone can tell you've been through some shit. Here's the thing though, you wanna work here, you gotta leave all that at the door. This little outburst cost me several hours of profits and a lot of people got scared away from ever coming back here."
Sam felt a twinge of guilt, but didn't say anything.
Harry sighed again.
"This is the part where you apologize and promise not to do anything like this again."
"I don't beg," said Sam.
"I'm not asking you to beg-,"
"Yeah you are, you want me to beg for my job so you know it won't happen again. Well, I don't beg, and I'd kick that pervert's ass again in a heartbeat if he ever so much as looked at me again," said Sam.
"Samantha, if you want to get anywhere in life you're gonna have to learn how to swallow your damn pride," said Harry.
"I. Don't. Beg."
Harry shook his head.
"Then I have to fire you, I'm sorry."
"Don't be, I didn't ask for your help in the first place."
"Yeah well, you needed it," Harry's eyes were downcast, but then shot up. "Say, have you heard of the Demon Masters?"
"The what?" asked Sam.
"I guess the streets aren't a good place to hear about them. Anyway they're an organization that deals with demons, inner and outer," explained Harry.
"What like the Saints?" asked Sam.
Harry chuckled.
"Yeah, but that's where the similarities end. Anyway, they're always recruiting and they could probably use someone like you."
"An ex-street rat with anger issues?" asked Sam.
"Yep, they'd take you in a heartbeat. Hold on," he pulled a small notebook and pencil out of his pocket and scribbled down an address.
"Here, this is their recruitment office," he said, handing Sam the paper. "Please at least think about it, in my opinion no one deserves to be on the streets."
Sam looked at the paper, 669 Dayton Ave, Then pocketed it.
"Thanks, I'll think about it," said Sam.
"No problem," Harry bit his lip. "Now I'm afraid I have to ask you to go."
"To minimize damage to this place's rep right? It's fine," said Sam, she turned and headed for the stairs.
"Thanks for understanding Sam," called Harry.
Sam waved him off and jogged up the stairs and to her room. The room wasn't much to look at. All that was in it was a bed, a mirror, a pile of Sam's cloths and her backpack. She changed out of her white and black waitress outfit and put on a blue t-shirt and jeans. Then she stuffed the rest of her cloths in her backpack.
As she was getting ready to go she glanced at the mirror. And saw that her blond hair hanging loose around her shoulders.
Musta come loose while I was beating that drunk.
She reached into her backpack and pulled out two hair ties. Then tied her hair into two pigtails that hung behind her shoulders.
Satisfied, she turned to go, but then paused, and took out the slip of paper.
Ya know, why not?