Chris Gordon is the main protagonist of the Demon Accords, an ongoing urban fantasy series about a superhuman exorcist who fights everything from demons and vampires, to aliens and fae, all to protect earth. Think Dresden Files with far more over the top fights and more of a superhero vibe.
Speed: At least supersonic, likely higher | At least supersonic | At least Supersonic, possibly higher
My left hand shot out, calling the shorn steel sword blade to it, even as my right hand blocked a jarring, powerful swing by my black knight opponent. The hardened steel jumped into my hand from fifteen feet away and I pressed both palms together to hold it in front of me, my fingers and hand pads pressing hard enough to leave embedded prints in the metal.
Armor boy laughed, a braying electronic sound that issued from the speaker in his throat guard. My arms shot forward, the sword tip moving bullet fast into the translucent facemask. Lexan is great stuff, strong as hell. But there’s a big difference between deflecting a quarter-ounce bullet and a two-pound sword blade. The sectional density of the eighteen inches of formed steel was much greater than any rifle round, and the speed of impact was approaching the muzzle velocity of a black powder pistol. Armor boy fell back, suit shuddering with the death twitches of a brain-pithed body, the broken blade sticking straight up out of his face.
At this point he even throws a spear faster then a pistol bullet.
Instantly she gained height, only to be swarmed by the mini drones, which pelted her with painful light and burning projectiles. She ignored them, putting everything into her climb, pulling up at first just inch by inch but then foot by foot. She focused on the rooftop, eyes locked on her escape, aware that Malahidael was on the ground and running her way. Ignore him, ignore everything but getting out of this realm. At first, she had a fear that he would leap at her again, but he ran past underneath her, straight to the wounded witch and the human boy who held her most deadly weapon. Relief, sweet relief that he hadn’t attacked her in this vulnerable state. Then fear, sudden bowel-loosening fear, as below her the fallen angel came to a sudden stop, plucked the spear-like SHUKUR from Mack’s hand, and, with a graceful spin, threw the weapon straight at her. It moved like a pulse of light, flashing faster than a pistol bullet, maybe too fast to dodge, the deadly blade headed right for her center of mass.
With a fantastic flex of her entire body, mid-air, she twisted herself sideways, feeling a burning line cut across her stomach and sternum before it blasted through the thin membrane of her right wing, tearing a massive hole. The SHUKUR shot off into the night, but Lilith could only focus on the twin sensations of pain and falling, her body flipping end over end, her vision filled first with darkened sky, then open portal, then sky before the portal again came into view.
He can also blitz someone as fast as Arkady, who can do this.
The five vampires looked at each other. Stefano must have signaled them because they all reached for weapons at the same time. Awasos, Lydia, Nika, and Arkady crashed into them like a tidal wave. Two fell to the girls while two of them had an intimate, personal lesson in close quarters combat from a five-century-old warrior vampire. The lesson was very brief. It involved two massive fists moving at pistol-caliber speeds to unhinge jaws and crack thick skulls. The last vampire, Stefano, met ‘Sos, who switched forms in mid-stride, hitting the vampire as an eighteen-hundred-pound Kodiak. Stefano flew fifty feet and smashed into the block wall of the nearest hangar.
He can also blitz several superhumanly fast werewolves in a fraction of a second.
We were through and on before Arkady and his troops even caught up. As one we turned away from the left hand tunnel that led to the open mine and the firefight there. Running at full speed into the right side took us up a slight rise in the floor of the tunnel and then around a corner into a long open passage that was big enough to park the Rig in. Eleven doorways lined both sides and I knew we were in the dry section of the tunnel, the part most likely to hold the prisoners.
Twenty-eight Spawn of various species were in the process of changing or arming when we hit them. Six in human form were gathering up heavy weapons but moving slow like cold oatmeal as I opened up with both Glocks. I triple tapped all six human-form Lokis, each getting two rounds to the chest and one in the head. My internal clock told me I did it in four one hundredths of a second. In that same time, Tanya’s blades had chopped apart two wolves and a grizzly-sized werebear.
Strength: Multi-tonner lifting and striking power power | Higher then base | Likely higher
I didn’t have to look at Tanya to know what she was thinking – more grandstanding. So when she threw her left hand sword at him, I was already moving, her attack plan received and acknowledged. I ran and leaped straight at him, feet first.
The sword punched into his left foot, but he barely noticed, instead throwing the lamppost, spear like, at my vampire before turning to meet my charge. I trusted Tanya to dodge the projectile and slide into position on the ground at his feet. Her left foot roundhouse kicked the back of his right knee as my feet met his outstretched hand and I bounced off. Without Tanya’s actions, my impact, which had enough power to cave in the side of a dump truck, would have done nothing to the red and black giant. But with one foot pinned and the other knee buckled, he went over backward crashing into the unique property behind him and half crushing the sign in its yard.
With help from his aura, he can pick up and toss a multi-ton dumpster twenty feet through the air.
More drones dropped from my shooting, but the sky darkened as others kept coming. Bullets hit the wall around me as I made contact and started running down the side of the building. A big rust-and-green-colored dumpster was Grim’s destination, a temporary shelter from the bullet storm. A burning stream of pain across one calf told me the bullets were DU and that I wasn’t dodging quite fast enough. Drone fire hit the metal side of the dumpster as I ducked behind it. The bullets punched right through but stopped in the piles of stinking garbage while I braced my feet, Posted my body, and heaved on the entire dumpster with both arms and all of my aura. My shelter left the ground with a groan of steel, flying twenty feet into the air and into a cloud of sleek black drones. A few evaded the multi-ton missile, but a goodly number met their fate in the white and black plastic bags of society’s cast-offs.
Durability: At least wall level+, likely higher (regen makes him difficult to kill) | At least small building level, possibly town level via aura armor
My attention refocused on the monster that was now unfolding from its roll, shaking the damaged back leg but staring with red viper eyes at me. It was big, real big. Like rhinoceros big, but shaped like a bull, if in fact, bulls were covered in red and black scales, had an eight-foot tail tipped with a bony knob and weighed two tons. Then there was its head. A forest of needle tipped spikes grew straight from the bony face and forehead, framing the red eyes. Two to three feet long they guaranteed impalement to anything that came at the demon head on.
Pawing the ground with one foot it leapt forward straight at me. I jumped up and to my right but the monster had been paying attention. It stopped abruptly, curving its body into a sharp c shape and swinging its tail in an arc. I remember being fascinated with the squat, bony ankylosaurus dinosaurs as a kid. You know the one, all covered in sheets of bone, with the huge knobby block of a tail. It was often depicted in models or pictures smacking T-rex with that bony bludgeon. I always wondered how hard it could hit with that tail. I found out.
The block of bone at the end of its built-in-flail hit my shoulder and collarbone at a downward angle like cannon shell. I felt bone crunch as my inflight progress to the right stopped and reversed direction abruptly. Slamming into a parked car, I heard more than felt, a couple more bones break, probably in my spine. It takes a lot to break my bones these days. The car broke too.
My shoulder and collarbone were almost fully healed when the demon arrived at my landing spot. My spine wasn’t nearly as patched up as I would have liked it. One of the handy things about Grim is that he just blocks all pain, pretty much shutting down the nerve endings almost completely. So when he forced my body to jackknife my legs up and roll backwards over the roof of the partially crushed Cadillac CTS it didn’t hurt like it should have, even though the partially rebuilt vertebrae were all rubbing together in my back.
First blood was mine, but his roar of pain and outrage told me that I had really only managed to piss him off. He clutched his very public privates in pain and Grim seized the moment, jumping forward to stab at the monster’s side. Amaymon was faking, a fact that became clear when he unwound a lightning fast backhand that slammed me twenty feet away and through a car windshield.
If it were me, I’d just lain there a bit and tried catching my breath around the searing pain of my body. But Grim was running the show and hanging out helpless isn’t part of his tactical game plan. Instantly, we/I pushed back deeper into the car, narrowly missing a swipe by the master demon’s oversized claws that would, most likely, have removed some of my body parts. As it was they tore through the steel frame around the windshield without slowing down.
Chris has even regenerated from being shot in the head by a high caliber sniper round in seconds, albeit with bad case of amnesia after the fact.
Everyone’s attention was on the distant vehicle. Jep ran to his truck, followed by two of his packmates. The rest of us watched as he headed down the driveway to intercept the stunned thief. Suddenly, I felt Grim surge forward, seizing control of my body and starting to move me sideways. Something slapped my forehead and then the ground was rushing up to meet my face. Blackness crashed into me as a second, sharper bang reached my ears, after that… nothing.
“Chris? How are you doing?” the blonde asked. I had to think about that for a moment, but then it was clear… Chris was my name. Christian, actually. Christian Anthony Gordon. It popped into my head and I felt suddenly a bit better. “What do you mean he got shot? I was in the kitchen when the yelling started,” the teen asked. “That guy shot him in the head. He dropped for a second, then he was gone so fast I couldn’t follow the motion. I saw blood spray and his head is bloody, but I don’t see a wound, so it must have healed already,” the blonde said. “Two more shots, but they missed. He was too fast."
Attack potency: At least wall level+, likely higher | At least small building level, possibly town level | At least town level, possibly city level
My right hand grabbed the front fork of the Harley and then I pulled, heavily, smashing the big bike into the weres lined up against the wall. I managed to crush two of the three before I swung the bike forward and threw it across the room at bar. The physics of a two hundred pound man throwing a six hundred pound motorcycle one-handed are complex, but my manipulation of them was instinctual. Posting my body to the floor with a column of energy gave me the anchor necessary to launch the heavy bike. The sitting weres had risen in time to get in the way of the Harley as it crashed through the bar, the mirror and, finally, the concrete block wall behind it.
I ignored him, moving instead to crush the skull of the last were on the wall with a left punch. I also managed to punch completely through his head and the wall behind. Oops, my bad!
I ran and leaped straight at him, feet first. The sword punched into his left foot, but he barely noticed, instead throwing the lamppost, spear like, at my vampire before turning to meet my charge. I trusted Tanya to dodge the projectile and slide into position on the ground at his feet. Her left foot roundhouse kicked the back of his right knee as my feet met his outstretched hand and I bounced off. Without Tanya’s actions, my impact, which had enough power to cave in the side of a dump truck, would have done nothing to the red and black giant.
Chris can throw coins like bullets, or use his aura for an even deadlier projectile.
The big truck was gaining speed, slowly grinding a Dodge pickup out of its path, inexorably building power. Two more cars were in its path, their occupants unaware of the behemoth bearing down on them from behind. Other-me stepped my body directly in line with the big truck, my left hand curiously dimpling five quarters by pressing my thumb down on the President’s face and squeezing slightly.
I had no clue as to why until one of the quarters was tossed up into the air, spinning slowly to my overly sharp senses. I could feel myself wait until George’s pressed-in face was toward the truck, then both hands clapped sharply, each hand outlined with purple aura. The resulting crack was sharp and loud; the streak of molten plasma was eye-searing as the suddenly sun-hot coin lasered into the truck’s engine. Two more quarters followed as fast as a New York cop could empty his gun into a drug dealer. The truck shuddered as its engine suffered catastrophic damage with an internal whump and steam started ejecting from the gaping holes through its radiator.
Fingers dimpled the metal discs, hand tossed them into the air, both hands clapped. Both discs fired in supersonic bursts of molten metal. One struck the metal door, ripping through the thickest part of the upper hinge. The other hit the vampire in his left shoulder, blew through in a mist of blood and flesh, then blasted a crater from the wall.
Chris can do major damage with concentrated bursts of his aura.
Spinning to her right, Lydia slammed her hand on the emergency lockdown button. Bank vault thick bolts of steel slammed into place around the edges of the titanium reinforced doors, sealing the exit in armor. Part of me seemed to be observing from a long distance away, watching as some other part of me operated my body. My right hand came up again and the deep purple, almost black aura that shot from it tore through the locking bolts like a hard wind blowing away smoke. In moments the steel had eroded to nothing. The doors are designed to open into the house. My violent exit 'redesigned' them to open out, with one of them hanging from a single hinge.
His pool partner, in beast-man form, was picking up the heavy pool table, most likely to throw at moi. A bolt of dark purple power shot from my right hand, the concentrated burst of particles blasting the legs completely off the were holding the table. He fell, the table fell and he squished.
I spin, scooping Toni into my wounded left side, my right hand throwing a wave of power that blows two of the gunmen off their feet and slams them into an oncoming garbage truck with enough force to buckle the front grill.
My right hand slammed forward on its own, a bolt of deep purple power blasting the Latin vampire right out from under Tanya and slamming him twenty feet across the room and into the wall beyond. His body embedded in the sheetrock, his eyes unfocused and non-comprehending.
Small nuke level meteor feat (slight prep required).
“Come on. We gotta leave—now,” I told my vampire, heading back up the corridor. Lydia and Arkady met us as we got to the stairs. “We found a vampire and a were in cells. They’re both headed out now.” “As are we, Lydia. We don’t have much time. Nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds, to be exact.” “Till what?” Lydia asked. I didn’t answer but just started up the stairs, my brain still humming with math. Tanya picked up on my urgency and literally tossed me to Arkady, who carried me like an invalid. Our speed picked up, and we were topside in twenty seconds.
“We have eight minutes and forty-nine seconds to get at least a mile from this spot. Anything or anyone here after that is dead,” I said. “I suggest you grab what you’ve managed to get your hands on, load everyone up, and let’s get the f outta here.”
The dot grew rapidly as we watched, turning into a white-hot streak that seemed to be moving slowly, then suddenly became a flashing blur before disappearing below the treetops behind us. A moment later, a fireball rolled up to the clouds and a concussive wave tried to brush us from the sky. The pilot fought the controls like a bronco rider, and then it was past. Stewart turned to me from his position across the flight cabin. “What did you do?” he asked, horrified. The others all watched me as well: Lydia, Stacia, Arkady, Adine Benally, Toni, Tanya, and even 'Sos. “I made a statement,” I said, leaning back and closing my eyes. I was never very good at math and it always made my head hurt. Now, I had the mother of all headaches. It didn’t stop me from falling deeply asleep, though.
And that was before he somehow dropped a multi-ton nickel-iron asteroid with pinpoint accuracy yielding the equivalent energy of a tactical nuke. In short, it would be, as he indicated, a nightmare.”
Chris with his Angel's blade can block attack from an elemental compared to a small nuke.
“What’s to keep it from just coming up outside all three?” I asked. “Nothing, which is why we have that third ring to retreat into,” Declan said. “I’m thinking we won’t have a great deal of time before they all fail, though.” “That’s cheery. Aren’t you a great fire witch?” I asked. “Faced with the fiery equivalent of Hurricane Katrina,” he said. “Hurricanes lose power after they come ashore. Yellowstone is far from its volcano,” I said. “Great. So it’s only like a small thermonuclear bomb,” he said. “That’s funny; I’ve heard the very same said about you,” I said. He rolled his eyes, then they suddenly got larger and he bobbed his head at the circle behind me.
The air buzzed as Omega’s drones came to his father’s aid. Seven of them dropped hundreds of pounds of powder flame retardant on Lumpy, then seven more, and finally the rest all unloaded their chemical payloads directly onto Lumpy’s lava head. For a second, there seemed to be a cooling upthrust of stone and it looked like the drones were effective. But then the entire ninety-foot diameter pool of melted earth suddenly rose up, a molten tower fifty feet high, a cresting wave four thousand degrees hot.
Declan’s face went slack with fear and I felt mine harden in determination. We were not going to die today, not because some ancient volcano was having a hissy fit. I jammed the sword into the ground, driving it halfway the length of the blade in a flash of actinic white light. The ground shook again, twice as hard and directly under Super Lumpy. I rode it out, Posted to the ground, but my young witch got tossed like a carrot in a salad.
Super Lumpy, the ‘roid rage tower of burning stone, collapsed, splashing liquid death our way. The flaming river broke away to either side of the sword, but a goodly wave of it slammed into Declan. Or, at least into his shield… which must have been in its explosive reactive armor mode. That was his toughest shield, and I knew from firsthand experience that it’s holy hell to run into.
Nuke-level destructive potential statements are fairly common for Chris and Declan, but a few others scale.
Polner wasn’t done though. He turned back to me. “Miss Jensen, are you familiar with the acronym PMD?” “No sir.” “It stands for Person of Mass Destruction. Any thoughts on who we mean?” “Well, sir, obviously Declan, as well as Chris Gordon, Tanya, Tanya’s grandmother Elder Senka, and probably both Queens of Fairie, I should think. And Omega.” “You would include the Elder Vampire?” he asked. “Yes sir. Just based on how Chris talks about her.”
“You seem very comfortable with this idea… that individuals have personal destructive power equal to small nuclear devices?” I shrugged. “I’m not certain that comfortable is how I feel. It’s more like it’s just how things are. Plus I’ve known them for a quite a while now. And I would hardly classify Declan and Chris as a small nuclear weapon, sir.”
"When I think back on it the overall impression I recall is power. Enormous barely constrained power. think nuclear bomb in a human body"
Resistances: Blunt and bladed attacks, poison, disease, parasites, acid, high and low temperatures, pain manipulation, illusions. | Soul manipulation, posession, emotion manipulation, mind control/reading, death manipulation, physics manipulation, sound manipulation, energy absorbtion, paralysis, magic and supernatural abilities, possibly probability manipulation.
Special mention to his alternate personality that is referred to as his fighting persona. He is a hyper-competent killing machine, codenamed "Grim" after the Grim Reaper. When Grim comes out (which is pretty much constantly in combat), Chris is far faster, stronger, ignores pain, gains a sonar-like sense and can adapt almost instantly to counter an opponent's abilities and fighting style. This is one example of his absurd lethality and skill with his various abilities against a bunch of werewolves.
The carefully constructed, steel-reinforced vault door on the prison cell in my mind shattered like cheap window glass, and the beast was out. The leader turned his head back to me, a sneer on his face. Immediately, he sensed something different about me, his expression changing slightly. “That’s not scary! You wanna see scary?” a voice not my own said, using my mouth. He blinked, which meant he almost missed the whole thing.
I felt the mono-molecular edges form themselves around the outside of my hands and arms, the heavy rope cut instantly. Formed of my strange violet aura, they are, I’m pretty sure, the sharpest blades on the planet. They sliced through the two weres holding me, cutting through their torsos without resistance, which was kind of too bad, ‘cause I wanted some resistance. Leaving the suddenly bisected guards, my arms slammed forward in front of me.
My hands came together, back of thumb to back of thumb in the center of the leader’s torso, my middle fingers just exiting his back. His eyes were only half-way through his blink. They opened as his upper body slid to the floor, following the split bodies of his two minions. At least he got to see a little bit of scary.
Three down. The 360 degree display that forms in my head at times like this plotted everyone’s position, inside the building, the vehicles outside the building, the soldiers standing watch a mile away, even the AC-130 gunship that circled at 40,000 feet two miles distant with thermal cameras rolling.
I turned to my right side, slammed my left hand through the chest of the were on the Harley, not bothering to use the mono edges, just raw power. My hand crushed his heart, then gripped his spine like a handle. I pulled, lightly, and tossed his body across the room behind me, hearing it splat into the wall. My right hand grabbed the front fork of the Harley and then I pulled, heavily, smashing the big bike into the weres lined up against the wall. I managed to crush two of the three before I swung the bike forward and threw it across the room at bar. The physics of a two hundred pound man throwing a six hundred pound motorcycle one-handed are complex, but my manipulation of them was instinctual. Posting my body to the floor with a column of energy gave me the anchor necessary to launch the heavy bike. The sitting weres had risen in time to get in the way of the Harley as it crashed through the bar, the mirror and, finally, the concrete block wall behind it.
Five more down. The bartender, still in man form, had managed to slip out of the path of the six hundred pound chrome and steel missile, and was starting to grope for something in the remaining part of the bar. I ignored him, moving instead to crush the skull of the last were on the wall with a left punch. I also managed to punch completely through his head and the wall behind. Oops, my bad!
I bounded to the two by the kitchen door, forward flipping in the air and dropped an ax kick onto the top of one’s head with a mono-spiked heel. The spike drove through his brain, but in hindsight, it probably wasn’t necessary as his head was crushed flat by the force of the kick which also drove his neck down into his torso. He died with a snarl on his face, as the other, in wolf form, lunged for me, snapping her huge jaws like a bear-trap. I stuck my left forearm in her mouth, letting her own bite force drive the insanely sharp edges on my arm through her top and bottom jawbones, slicing her hardened teeth like clay. As the front of her face fell off, I ended her participation in the fight with a reverse knife-hand strike through her left armpit and out her right shoulder, cleaving her into wet chunks of furry meat. Eleven down.
The two at the pool table were rushing me. Well, the closer one was, in wolf form. His pool partner, in beast-man form, was picking up the heavy pool table, most likely to throw at moi. A bolt of dark purple power shot from my right hand, the concentrated burst of particles blasting the legs completely off the were holding the table. He fell, the table fell and he squished. I side stepped the rushing wolf, grabbed him by the throat and slammed his skull into a convenient pocket of the pool table. Werewolf in the corner pocket! Easy shot!
The bartender had pulled a battered Ithaca pump shotgun from under the bar. I called it to my left hand, using aura like a rope, pulling it from his grip and across the room. Then I shot him with it three times. Hmm, must be silver buckshot from the look of the wounds, which blackened and burned. I put the last two rounds into one of the wolves by the door, then jammed the barrel of the empty gun down through the skull of my pool pocket buddy, pinning his twitching body in place. The wounded wolf at the door fell, and his two partners, one male, one female, shot out the door on four feet, having come to the conclusion that they had better places to be. My aura-edged left hand clipped the downed wolf’s head from his body as I rushed by. I caught the first wolf just six feet outside the door, running over her sprinting wolf form with aura spiked boots that snipped her spine and pinned her heart, then head to the desert floor. Leaping from her back, I wreathed my body in mono-edges, grabbed the remaining wolf with my arms and legs, then sort of shimmied around him till he fell apart in little chunks, his head flying about sixty-five feet. Seventeen down. Time elapsed, nine point three seconds.