Twin Exorcists

     A woman's scream, shrill and piercing, cut through the otherwise silent night. As one, Calla and Corwin Beech stood from the bench they had been previously sitting on. They went from standing still to a flat out run, black coats billowing out behind them as the air whipped up around them. Both had their hoods up, faces obscured from casual glances by the unassuming public. The two siblings, twins, were members of the All-Saints Order, as the silver decoration atop their hoods verified. Not only were they members, they were the highest ranking exorcists. Normally, one exorcist alone claimed this revered spot of prestige, but the twins refused to work separately, and had earned the title as one.
     Calla Beech already had her modified shotgun at the ready, the grip designed for her hand alone, and the slugs within blessed by several certified minders. She continued running beside her brother, shotgun held in a two hand grip to her front, muzzle pointed at the ground. The woman's scream rang out once more, and she adjusted her course accordingly. It took Corwin longer, but that could be attributed to the transformation into Beast already beginning.
     His yellow eyes pulsed, the whites ebbing away as the bleeding yellow took over. A snarl tore through his lips, claws thickened, sharpened keratin sprouting from his nails, ripping them apart as they grew. His hands began to melt away into paws, the fingers still clear and jointed, but large and grotesque with brown fur. His nose and mouth elongated to a muzzle, sprouting out and causing him to growl once more. Breathing in through his now improved nose, demon filtered in, letting him know exactly where he needed to go. He began to leap up, scrabbling for purchase to begin running on the rooftops of the buildings that framed the street, while Calla continued on the ground toward the sounds of sobbing.
     Somewhere, a demon, one of the twisted souls who escaped Hell, was torturing a poor woman. Either psychological or physical, that was yet to be determined. Whichever, it didn't really matter. One way or another, the demon would be felled and the woman saved. Such was the skill of the highest ranking exorcists.
     Booted feet continued to smack against the hard packed dirt of the street and Calla picked up her pace. From what she could hear, the woman and her attacker were only two more house rows away. Above her was Corwin, and she had no doubt he would reach them before she did, but that was okay. She was less of a fighter. Her skills lay in healing, in magicks and forces not accepted by the church. Not yet, at least. Should any minder or other exorcist find out the truth of Calla and Corwin's powers, it was likely they would be excommunicated, hunted like wild dogs. Of course, it was possible the Order would accept them, but it was doubtful. They were too well controlled by the church.
     Finally, Calla made visual contact. The woman was pretty enough, her milky skin a beacon in the darkness of the night. Near her, a man was pointing, a malignant smile on his face. Evil. Before she could yell out, a dark shape fell on the man, tore into him. The demon howled in outrage as Beast began his assault. Calla skirted the action, darted toward the woman and dragged her back away from the violence. From the corner of the woman's mouth, dark red blood dribbled. The damage was internal then, and perhaps psychological as well.
     Calla's warm, dark brown eyes met the frightened woman's and she smiled, "It's going to be alright now, okay? We'll get you out of this mess, safe and sound. That big brute of a beast fighting over there is doing it for you." It was possible her words wouldn't soothe the woman, but it normally did, and in this case succeeded. Letting her hands skim across the woman, Calla closed her eyes and saw the internal mechanisms. Her hood flew back, her snow white hair lifting up above her, even while secured in a braid. A pale, celestial light seemed to fill her, seemed to pulse from her, and she began to heal the woman. The light filtered from her mouth, from her now open but sightless eyes. The woman was entranced, but quickly lost consciousness. The audacity of the entire situation so beggared belief that her mind had retreated in an attempt to cope. It happened often.
     Despite the knowledge that everyone now had, that the world they resided on, New Earth, was situated between Heaven and Hell, people still had trouble comprehending it. The All-Saints Order was treated with immense respect, but not many people knew the firsthand effects of a twisted soul, a demon. When the woman later roused, she would likely come to understand what had happened, but Calla and Corwin would not remain to gain her thanks. They would be long gone by then, back to headquarters.
      As Calla finished healing the woman, Beast had almost finished decimating the demon. His claws had torn into it, left multiple ragged wounds that bled soul energy. His teeth had struck the neck, snapped the spine. The demon was attempting to hang on, but it was futile. Beast had never once let a demon escape his wrath, and what wrath it was. It was what fueled his transformations, but Calla was the calm and peace that brought him back to himself. When they had first been recruited to the Order, he had almost transformed once or twice when dealing with the hazing going on. Calla had been the one to keep their secrets hidden. On missions, however, he was free to let the transformation overcome him, as long as Calla was there to bring him out of it.
     The demon died, screamed in its agony. Beast howled, muzzle to the sky, blood dripping from long claws. The large, yellow eyes turned to the girl, Calla. Beast licked his lips, neared her. It was every intention of Beast to attack her, but when she smiled, he found himself faltering.
     "You did good. But you have to come back now, okay? I worry each time you change it may be your last, and you'll be Beast forever." Calla had long ago concluded that her brother was Corwin, pre-transformation. Beast was the thing that took over her brother's body, but did not smother her brother entirely. She always had to reason with Beast, not Corwin, to bring him back. Beast looked at her again, tilted his head. Slowly, the transformation began to dissolve, the claws falling to the ground as regular nails took their rightful place back on now normal fingers. The muzzle receded, the eyes becoming human once more. "Let's get her to a safe place and then go. I figure the hospital down the road will do the trick." Corwin nodded and picked up the limp form of the woman, letting Calla lead the way.
     Such was the life of these exorcists. Always on the move. Saving others and putting their own souls and minds in danger.
      Of all the exorcists, Calla and Corwin Beech had the least to live for, only one another. Perhaps that was why they were the best of the best. Someone had to do it, and why not those who no one would cry for in passing?