Greed Must Be Punished (Mammon Windsor VS Prevention) RP

The Present

"I've lived so many years free, they've been the greatest ones. There's no way in Hell I'm going back to inprisonment!"

Mammon's tattered clothes ripple as he defiantly tosses his arms aside, shouting violently while doing so. It just keeps on staring, finally the tension is broken as it's harsh to hear metallic voice croaks.

"You don't know what's in Hell, allow me to show you..."

An Hour Earlier

This had marked the start of a new enterprise to be found, a new city to farm, a new public to dupe and murder. The young Windsor had struck the gold he'd long searched for. This would appease the dark being within and the one a layer further out. The rental van, 'commandeered' from a moving company who's sale attendants were 'tied up', purred as it rolled smoothly into the driveway of a secluded estate, nestled neatly into the city outskirts. This house would make a lovely base of operations for Windsor Independant Traders. The only problem being the family inside, though they would be quick work for one with a demon on call.

Mammon strode into the house as the doors flung off of the latches, each causing considerable damage to the houses', previously, expensive art pieces. It wasn't long after a stroll around the ground floor that Mammon's generic henchmen brought down a lone middle-aged man, his knees dragged along the ground while his head still remained in a slumber, blood was an unfortunate side-effect of 'physically enduced sleeping'. Mammon looked confused, as he looked back and forth between a painting and the victim repeatedly. This chain was broken when he questioned the man.

'So where's your family? Or is this your handiwork?'

He showed the now awoken, though still rather dazed, man a child's painting of a stick figure labelled 'DADy'. His response was an elegant ejection of red soaked saliva into his captor's face. He calmly wiped this away with a handkerchief while muttering.

'I need to remember to stop getting on eye level with INCONSIDERATE ARSEHOLES! Well either way you've just dug your own grave.'

Mammon's hand hooks itself into the nose and mouth of the man, he slowly begins draining the life force of the man, he falls to the floor a grey carcass. He then wipes his hands clean and walks into the kitchen.

'Gentlemen time to set up shop...'

It had been watching them as their van passed through it's city, Prevention was suspicious, in it's past these thoughts have always lead to what it seeks, unfortunate for the seeked. This rental van wasn't native to the area, the blood on it's bumper wasn't either. The rental company name was promptly searched on the handheld device that it kept on hand, Google would've been enough to show a report on a massacre at a small business with employees wrapped in their own intestines. Whoever was driving would now be the target.

As the van pulled into the driveway of a home that could be described simply as a manor Prevention let itself inside. It scouted the top floor, with each room it found a sleeping member of the family, as expected. Three had been evacuated before the criminals got a hold of the fourth. Prevention had finished searching the top floor, then began its descent to the ground floor, the site that welcomed it was the murder of an innocent man as his soul is seemingly sucked out of his body. The murderer show no remorse and neither will Prevention.

As the leader, seemingly, walked away from the body, unaware of the wrath he just unleashed, Prevention made quick work of the goons, their bodies lay on the floor with the innocent, though the innocent was a head above the rest, literally. It submerged into the ground. Mammon was at the kitchen table enjoying a glass of red wine, his face turned to a mixture of surprise and confusion as the creature's head rose out of the granite seemingly a growth in the surface. It's metallic voice creaked "Innocent blood was spilt as will yours'...". Within an instant all the room's exits were ablaze with glowing blue and green flames that Prevention had made it's trademark, these slowly enclosed around the stall on which Mammon was perched.