The Promise To Mr.Chan

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
a short story I put together about the end of hte world and demons. Enjoy!

Submitted: October 14, 2011

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Submitted: October 14, 2011



The promise to Mr.Chan


A man walking down the street of the slums of a large metropolitan city, wearing a large Chinese broadsword on his back two butterfly daggers at his left hip and a large Kukri blade on his right. A brown leather jacket, a black toque, dark sunglasses, black leather biker’s gloves, jeans and steel-toed work boots, he’s the poster boy for apocalyptic survivor.

He reaches a Harley-Davidson motorcycle and slips on igniting the powerful hydrogen engine inside and revs it up, he tosses an amulet up in the air before putting it in a pocket, and he was so close this time. Loosening the clutch and dropping the gear shifter he flew off down the road not caring that he has no helmet, it’s not like death scares him anymore, not after they came back to this world.


Somehow for some odd reason the demons from ancient lore have come to dwell in our realm again, their homeland apparently that we drove them from.

He was working in a steel mill taking care of his two daughters and baby boy as a single parent. After they came all three of his children died almost instantly from the first raids, his life was saved by Mr. Chan down the hall who was a weapons enthusiast and a former weapons champion of the world. It was like something out of a movie as he flew through the door throwing that broadsword around and slicing up three demons in less time than it took for them to kill his children. “Come with me” Was all he had said and all he needed to. Going back to his apartment gathering up two more weapons, the butterfly knives and the Kukri both in sheaths strapping them on his belt, they made it out of the apartment covered in demonic blood.

Gathering with other survivors Mr. Chan stayed only long enough to gather food and supplies then left saying, “My families in China I must find them”

He went with him, now having no family, his parents having died in car crash years ago and himself being an only child, no aunts or uncles to speak of and grandparents had died of old age years ago. He was essentially alone in this world, except for Mr. Chan.

As they travelled he trained him in the use of the weapons he’d given him, eventually he got better and with experience he became almost as good as Mr. Chan. The demons learned to avoid them, the lesser ones that is the larger more powerful ones however wanted a challenge and they’re battles became more and more challenging until the battle when he fell. This had sent him into a rage, picking up the broadsword he challenged the beast and won, single handed.

Picking up the broadsword and the old man’s leather jacket he continued on to the Western Shore of the United States where he caught the last boat, that was ironically a Junk.

He’d picked up the Harley from the man on the Junk, who said he was safer on the ocean and wouldn’t be returning to the mainland anytime soon, said the hydrogen cell should run it for about four months, and there was a spare in saddlebag along with a converter. So as long as he could find water he could find fuel.


So here he was riding through the deserted metropolis of China’s Hong Kong carrying out a promise to an old man.

The necklace was Mr. Chan’s daughters, a Jade center carved with a tiger a golden rim and solid gold chain, on the back written in Mandarin, which he’d taught me a little of when we travelled across American together, it said ‘To my little Tiger may your fighting spirit carry you through life’. Or something like that.

He was so close this time, there was demon blood, spent shotgun shells but no human blood, not to mention slashes akin to the broadswords; it seems her father had taught her more than how to walk and write. The blood was just coagulating so she wasn’t far, blood takes about fifteen minutes to coagulate so she was close, so very close.

He circled the area for ten minutes then moved on.

Not far off in the distance he heard the roar of a shotgun and two female voices shouting in Mandarin, he could make out a little bit of it, “Left! Left! Fire…the left!”

He roared the bikes motor and parked about a block away not wanting to destroy a quick getaway, getting off into a dead run he turned into an alley as a demon was rushing away down it, he quickly drew the Kukri and disembowelled it as it ran onto his blade. Pushing the demon off he saw the two Chinese girls who were holding off a swarm of lesser demons commanded by three higher ones.

Whipping his wrist throwing off the blood he charged into the fray shouting a Chinese war cry to wave off any gunfire.

Both were distracted by  there father’s war cry for only a second then returned to the mechanical killing them were involved in. He brought down the Kukri onto a demon’s head splitting it and lodging the blade in its head, grasping both handles of the butterfly knives in one hand drawing them both taking a hand with them. Separating them he methodically dismembered then beheaded the lesser demon with quick strikes.

Joining the two back-to-back girls creating a triangle he spoke in what little Mandarin he knows, “I knew your father”

It was apparently good enough for them as they seemed to fight with more vigour than before, before long all the lesser demons were dead. Body parts strewn around these three, one wearing a shotgun shell belt around her chest and one around her waist almost depleted, the bandolier was full and she began reloading her shotgun with practised speed. The other tested the edge of her blade, “Dule” Most likely Dull.

He stepped in front of the two girl drawing there father’s broadsword with a shorter Jin Tachi handle, both of them gasped knowing that what he’d told them before was true. He drew the Kukri out of the demon’s head handing the still sharp blade to her, eyes still tracking the motionless higher demons. “I turst you know how to us this?”

She understood well enough and wiped off the blood with the hide of the demon.

A gun was cocked and all three stood against the higher demons, in unison they drew there respective weapons.

These demon’s seemed amused not having humans who challenged there underlings in such a long time they were amused at these three so each took one and the battle was on in what was once a playground behind four split level two story apartments.

The first went down with a shotgun shell to the face, then as it lay squirming from the almost point blank shot she walked up the torso blowing off limbs with the precision of a surgeon, then taking three shots to its chest and one final one to sever the neck before it died.

The second took a little longer as she took first a hand, then a foot and finally buried the blade in its chest.

The third died the fastest, for higher demons they were pathetically weak, a single strike of the broadsword across the neck decapitated the demon killing it instantly raining down blood on him.

He walked over to them, as he realized what they’d been wearing the whole time. One had on a traditional golden dress with a black trim and blue outline and black fighting pants with the dresses long sash covering the thighs, she looked like a fighter of old. The second who was probably Hitome was wearing a more modern look of jeans a jean jacket and white t-shirt. Course they all were covered in demonic blood making them look like berserkers of any age.

“You are Mr. Chan’s daughters” bowing respectfully, “I am sorry to tell you he’s died”

Both girls looked to each other accepting the inevitability, the shotgun daughter Hitome asked, “How did he die?”

He told them, as best to his ability, the story of the battle with one of the most powerful demons he’d ever seen. He had fallen in battle and he himself had taken up the sword and slain the beast in his friends stead, then after burying him in the ground had promised to find his daughters to keep them safe. Taking out the necklace her father had given to her when she was twelve tossing it to Cassie the second sister, “This is yours” She nodded and wrapped it with her fingers squeezing it before putting it around her neck.

Looking up he smiled, speaking in English. “It’s done Chan I’ve found them for you”


The End

© Copyright 2020 Scout Allen. All rights reserved.

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