Scourge (Some Mature Material)

[Mew Master]

The night was bleak tonight. The moon, which used to shine so brilliantly, was restarting its erythematic shifting by disappearing behind the earth’s shadow. Shining in its place were the stars. Nebulas and far away systems created designs to those who watched the night sky. Tonight their designs were especially noticeable.

A barren landscape sat under the sky. Ragged rocks and stalagmites littered the edges of ravines, giving the horizon a devastated appearance. Few plants could be found, all life drained from the soil. Any forms of life seemed to be scared away from this wasteland, not even vultures flew the skies in search of decaying flesh to devour.

Below this slightly colored night sky resided a towered city. It was massive, easily stretching for dozens of miles in any direction. The separation from the city to the wilderness was abrupt and sudden, where the weathered rock met an upheaval of molded stone and block. Un-carved and weathered meeting the side of straight, modified, and articulated monuments. Towards the center of the city, the towers became larger, more articulate. Designs carved into their sides could only be thought of as beautiful displays of an artist’s calling. Foliage was growing from parts of the buildings, and rivers flowed through and under the spires and bridges, collecting around the center building in a large lake. An oasis in the center of a desert was what this city seemed like.

Columns of stone held up supports to the spires, the buildings towering high over the landscape. Roadways were distinguishable between sets of spires, each roadway wide enough for traffic to pass through unhindered. Bridges supported by arches and more columns connected higher levels of the towers together, as well as stretching far across the metropolis. Several structures floated above the roads and bridges, more buildings being held aloft by some kind of technology. Around the edge of the city, fires were lit along the bridges and roadways, giving the stone an eerie orange glow. Almost like the city itself was on fire.

When viewed from the sky, the roadways and the bridges carved strange lines through the city. From the center, a large domed building with a spiral tower, the tallest building in the expanse, roads carved ever expanding circles farther and farther away. They ended towards the end of the city boarder. The other roads were perpendicular to these circular paths, heading towards the center building.

At the edge of the city, a bridge had several people on it. Each of them was dressed similarly. A silver faceplate covered their face and eyes, unknown if they could actually see through the metal. Their lower jaw was exposed, allowing them the ability to speak without difficulty. Crimson and silver uniforms, they donned a holster on their right hip, and a sheathed sword on their left. A white belt rested around their waists, the buckle a metal hinge with an intersecting oval design.

Two figures walked towards each other from opposite ends of the bridge, accompanied by two men dressed like the rest on the bridge. The two individuals were dressed in long black robes that almost touched the ground, contrasting with their near pale skin. One had bright, fire red, hair and a stern look in his golden eyes. The other, walking up to meet the red haired one, had long white hair and dark purple eyes and the face was thinner, more feminine. Both of them had golden medals on their left breast, however the male had a larger collection. They stopped a few feet from each other. Taking their right hand into a fist, they pulled it up and rested it on their left breast, covering their medals with their hand.

“Status?”

“Sir,” the white haired one said, her voice stern and with dedication. “We have secured the last of the northern quadrants.”

“And the creature’s position?”

She gulped. “Unknown sir. His position was lost at 1425 towards 290. The other posts are keeping alert.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. That was not, particularly good news, but it wasn’t the end of the world. “Very well, send a notice to the ground troops. If he is not on our monitors then he might try sneaking in on the ground. I want each platoon to check in at 10 minute intervals. If any one of them fails to do so… then….”

His attention was drawn away by the lit fires on the edge of the bridge. As he was talking, the flames started to be sucked away into the night sky. One by one, the fire was drawn out of the receptacles until there was only one left as his voice trailed off. Slightly confused, as this was her first real field mission, the woman looked around. The others there placed one hand on the holster or the sword on their belts, some put hands on both.

A roar seemed to come from the darkness, beyond the city limits. Everyone looked out there, nervous as the sound couldn’t be pinpointed.

“Was… that him?” she asked.

“Who else would it be?” The man stared out into the darkness. Where are you? he thought. Where will you attack?. A second roar, this one closer but it was off to the side. Everyone froze, straining their ears to search for the beast that had announced its arrival.

Tense moments went by. Squinting his eyes, the black-clad male concentrated. As his eyes widened the golden hue of his eyes was replaced by a light blue glow. His vision was sharpened now, and he could see through the darkness. He scanned the horizon, picking out the outcrops of rock and boulders miles away. Concentrating more, the distance began to be in greater focus. Slowly his head turned, searching for the creature.

His vision was blacked out as something blocked his sight. Quickly his eyes shut and when he reopened them, his eyes were back to normal. “He’s close.”

The wait would have continued, but the creature attacked.

With a single fire to light their night, the people on the bridge felt, rather than saw, the thing hit the bridge. Giant clawed hands dug into the edge of the bridge facing towards the city’s center. The single fire caused long shadows to distort the creature’s identity. Stone buckled under the beast’s weight as it grabbed hold of the bridge. Cracks formed along the supports of the bridge, close to the towers that it connected. The force of the impact sent some of the occupants off the edge, screaming as they fell. Falling back onto the bridge, the woman stared up as she saw the scaled creature before her. The forelegs that held onto the edge of the bridge had large curved claws attached to muscular hands. A cache of bony spikes protruded from the arm between the elbow and the wrist. The rest of the arm was muscular, and the muscle spread up and into a massive wing that disappeared past the light of the fire and probably was far above her. Far past the light’s edge was the head of the beast, she looked and thought she saw a glowing white orb look back at her. Across the bridge, past the light was the rest of the creature.

She rose up her hand and concentrated. Symbols began to swirl around her open palm, combinations of lines and characters that rotated around a pinpoint of light forming in the center of the swirling ribbon-like symbols.

Then the creature flapped its wings. The gust of wind was powerful. Dust blew around from the under-stroke, and the woman was thrown off from the force. Her scream was silenced by the groan of the bridge being broken free from the supports. Stone struck stone as cracks formed from the stress, the strain ripping the bridge free.

A second wing-beat blasted another gust of air across the bridge, the upward force causing the creature to move up, and taking the bridge with it. The man dug his hand into the stone floor as the stone was torn from its mortars, his hand glowing as he held on. His men, his loyal subordinates had just been killed before his eyes. All because this creature disagreed with their methods and ideals.

“You… bastard.” He muttered as he raised his other hand, and energy began to gather around it.

A white-hot eye looked back at the man, before a third flap of the wings tore the bridge free from the moorings. Then the creature began gaining momentum, the bridge not weighing him down. His claws clutched it carefully, the man now using both hands to hold on as wind buffeted his body and threatened to throw him to his demise hundreds of feet below. He concentrated and sent a message out to the others.

“He is following Road 235, southward.” He managed to say, but continued to keep his concentration on holding on.

The beast followed one of the roadways, towards a group of fires lit several towers down. Rearing his head back, a roar bellowed from within his gullet.

Farther away, on the roadway itself, sat three vehicles. One, placed in the center, was much larger than the others. A long barrel pointed at the darkness between the spires. Light blue pips ran from the barrel back to the rotating torrent upon which it sat. The body of the vehicle was large and bulky, engines thrust air downward, avoiding all friction between the bottom and the ground below. Energy coursed through some of the pipes as the weapon became operational. Resting behind the torrent was a seat with controls for moving and aiming the large barrel, a man sat in the seat, watching the glowing blue HUD that showed him his position and allowed him a better look into the darkness towards the city boarder.

The two vehicles beside it were similar, but they didn’t have the long barrel. Instead they had two small ones. There was a seat behind them, and the operator of the vehicle’s motion controls was open to the environment. A blue screen floated in front of the operator’s face.

“Target is closing in from the north. 360 Parcels and closing. ETA, 3.4 hiras. Scans indicate that it has gained a 43% increase in mass since the last appearance.”

“Means that he’ll be easier to shoot down. Prepare the cannons!”

Blue energy flowed through the connections between the body and then to the barrels of the vehicles. The energy flowed along the barrels, causing meters to activate, measuring the amount of energy channeling through the cannon.

“Cannon charge complete. Waiting for command.”

“Shoot him down! Fire!”

Blasts of energy shot out from the cannons, flying up and into the darkness.

The shots flew past the creature, missing him but illuminating small features of the form. A rectangular head with massive forward teeth not hidden by lips, burning white eyes, horns, and cat-like ears. A mane of black hair flowed as the wind rushed by the creature. The wings were membranous, with three digits that spread the tattered membrane out and allowed for flight. Its long tail ended in a cache of spikes.

Flames that lit the area around the mobile torrents held the darkness at bay, and the creature came into view. The commander’s jaw dropped as he saw the thing, this dragon, holding a section of bridge within its claws.

“What…”

With a flap of his wings, the Dragon slowed. As it did, it released the bridge, throwing it forward, the forward momentum carrying the bridge expansion onward and down. With a second flap of his wings, the dragon spun, and turned to its right, heading down another roadway. Quickly gaining back his speed and disappearing behind the cathedral-like buildings.

The commander watched as the slab of bridge flew, spinning, through the air. Getting larger and larger, the distortion of the air around it causing deep “whoop” sounds.

“Shit.”

The bridge got closer and closer, until the commander could see someone clinging to one side of the bridge. Colliding with the torrent, the fuel within the cannon exploded. Erupting into a combination of flame and shrapnel, the bridge, and other two mobile torrents were vaporized in the resulting blue colored fireball.

The rubble burned, and random pieces of metal and stone rained from the sky. A red-orange glow reflected off of the surrounding buildings. A small pinpoint of light formed above the un-scorched ground. Rapidly expanding, several sets of spinning symbols and ribbons rotated around a man with bright red hair. He gently fell a few feet to the ground and observed the devastation.

“That damned thing. What does he think he’s trying to do?”

A mound of rubble started to pulse, grabbing the man’s attention. He watched as the commander of the cannons forced off tons of rubble and scrap metal off using an expanding green dome. The commander was standing his hands together in a strange hand gesture until the dome expanded as far as it would go, and then dispelled.

“You survived,” the red haired man bluntly stated.

“Don’t act so smug,” the commander replied, pulling himself out of the rubble. “The creature almost killed you.”

“Almost,” the other said. “Never counts. Front-line to HQ.” he said out loud, contacting others. “Beast is headed north along road 463, to the west.”

“Understood, interceptors are on their way and gunmen are standing by.”

A low humming sound echoed between the towers as three air-born craft flew over the two on the ground. Banking, they followed the creature down the western facing roadway.

Chapter 1: Breach

To the average person, the modern world is both boring, and fascinating. In a matter of 12 years, the world has shrunk so small that a person in New York can talk directly to someone in China. The internet makes the transfer of ideas and information so fast that there seems to be no need for books anymore. Wanna know about it? Google it. However this constant stream of information transfer makes the world seem boring. Science has all the answers, or at least some that are mostly accepted by the populace. There’s no surprise, every day is just a measure of how much closer you are to death. Rare be it are the ones who find joy in just living, and do what they can to continue doing so. More common are those who settle into a niche and live in monotony for the rest of their years.

The joy of discovery is gone. Magic doesn’t exist. Those crazy psychics are just using cues off of people to make it look like they’re for real. Just leave it to the scientists: they know what they’re doing.

There is much to be said for a large city, such as Bartholomew. It is one of the fastest growing metropolises in North America, sitting on the edge of a river valley. Gathering international attention due to the several colleges that draw in hundreds of exchange students a semester, it has grown from a small college town. As a result of this growth, fast food chains have set up shop at opposite ends of the city, bookstores scattered through the down-town district, little mom-and-pop stores being run out of business by huge companies. For a city such as this, the population shifts between the summer and fall seasons, but the population is still considerably high.

Tall skyscrapers pierce the sky in the center of the city, the business district. In the center of this district is a statue of the city’s founder, who first broke the land to set up the first frontier homes. The statue sits in the center of a circular road, similar to a British round-about design. Many stores surround the statue, antiques, franchises, books, art supplies, and various assortments of other businesses. The buildings get shorter, about half as tall, a few blocks away where they continue to shrink. Turning from business into residential. Offices into apartments. Around this undefined boarder are a few industrial complexes, devoted to erecting new buildings for the populace, and devastating those that have lasted too long. Other industrial parks are littered through the residential areas and the suburbs, pillowing columns of smoke and steam into the atmosphere.

Resting on a small hill towards where the city meets the un-eroded banks of the flood-valley is a large Japanese style dojo. Due to the influences of the colleges and the attraction of international students, this building was erected as a place where all could practice (and to also leave the wrestling teams of the colleges with their mats). However, Japanese arts are not the only ones practiced. Fencing, Tae-Quan-Do, Mexican Wrestling, Brazilian Ground Fighting, all forms of hand-to-hand combat are practiced and have their own training, shower, and changing rooms. There is a large relaxation garden where the students spend their time between classes and during their breaks. Several trees create a boarder between the rest of the guardian and a clearing where yoga students stretch and perform their exercises. A massive reflection pool, about 12x12 feet has lily flowers and two giant fish that swim around in the clear waters. The top of the pool is elevated three feet above the ground.

Off to the west is a man-made recreational lake. Parks are scattered along the edge as well as development housing for vacationers and tourists. The lake is roughly seven miles long and about 600 feet deep. Very popular for fishing and recreation boating.

The rest of Bartholomew is suburbs and residential housing. Much of the most coveted housing is anywhere near the colleges. And such housing is bought up left and right the instant it’s available. Power-lines criss-cross and let out low humming sounds as electricity courses through them.

A transformer that connects several paths of lines begins to spark. Arcs of electricity buzz around the transformer before sparking into the power lines leading everywhere else. The electric energy buzzes and grows off of each arc before dissipating into the air. Each arc glows a blue color, but as each new arc is formed and sparks randomly across the power converter, it begins to take on a tainted yellow color. Jolting arcs of electricity raced along the power lines along the city.

Within an office, deep in the business center, cell phones begin ringing. The caller ID turns out to be random numbers, and when the receiver is picked up, only static is heard. Faxes, computers, and printers turn on, the sound of sparks and fluctuating screens grabbing the office workers attention. Television screens in store windows static out, the broadcast being interfered and distorted.

The statue at the center of Bartholomew. Its bronze finish reflecting the light from the sun back at the glass and steel. As the people walk past the statue, spending their lunch time sitting on a bench or reading the plaque, they don’t notice that something seems to be wrong.

Cackling arcs of yellow lightning dance along the statue. Their source springing from a spot near the edge of the head. The energy crackles along the statue, stopping when it eventually touches the stone platform. A rip. A tiny shred in reality seeps dark purple energy into the world around it. Walking past, the people seem oblivious to the phenomenon happening around their founding citizen. Then, it starts to grow wider and longer, revealing a twisted version of our world. A barren wasteland of twisted design. Landmasses floated above the ground within the rip, colliding and reducing into smaller masses.

Something moved in front of the window to another world, blocking it out. What appeared then was a single inhuman eye. The eye filled the entire rift, blocking out the strange world from where it resided. It stared out at the world and narrowed in malevolent glee.

These rips appear across all of Bartholomew. And something wants out.

* * *

Along the outskirts of Bartholomew, where the suburbs and the lake meet, a young man walked at a moderate pace. He was of an Asian decent, with a mop-like pile of orange-black hair that nearly reached his shoulders. His build was thin, and tall at just a little over six feet. Many commented that he resembled a tree. The high school soccer jersey that he wore was a clashing mix of blue with red lining and numbers. A light backpack hung from his shoulders. Not in a rush he calmly looked at the wristwatch on his right arm.

“Only five minutes until the game starts,” he said to himself. And fifteen minutes to get there… the thought followed. Taking his backpack off, Kyoshiro Watanabi retrieved his skateboard from the pack.

Wheels met concrete as Kyoshiro slinged the pack back on. The path he traveled followed along the edge of the lake park. Grinning, he glanced at the tranquil waters on this clear and sunny day. His haven. His place of tranquility was a secluded spot on the shore of the lake.

“Well,” he said as he turned off of the concrete, flipping his skateboard into his hand and walking towards the tranquil waters. “I’m late now.”

As he followed a path between the trees, he placed his board next to a tree and hid it from anyone else who might stumble upon it. Even though this was his haven, it didn’t mean that no one ever came by.

Pushing tree branches and stepping around bushes, he noticed his uniform getting scratched and stained from the healthy plants he was stepping around.

“Ah, damn,” he muttered examining his jersey. “The coach will have my ass.”

He came to the water’s edge and let the light breeze wash over his exposed skin. However there was something horribly wrong with his haven.

A glowing rip seemed to pour out dark violet mist into the water. Any fish that once frequented this spot had all but left, fleeing to safer waters. Kyoshiro stared at the rip that he could see, something about it seemed inhuman, alien, and unnatural. As he watched the rip he noticed that the swirling mist that irradiated from the rift wasn’t being distributed around by the water. This caused Kyoshiro to back up and into a tree.

Kyoshiro couldn’t take his eyes off the rip, until a pair of clawed hands appeared and forced the portal wider.

Too shocked to speak, the only thought in his mind was Oh hell.

* * *

“Watch it, Freak!” shouted the cab driver at a man who had just jay-walked the traffic lane.

The man didn’t care. Throughout all of his life he had heard that word, freak, and just like all the other times it meant little to him. After all, words only reflect those who speak them, and the morons who try to belittle their fellow humans.

Other insults came, but he didn’t care. He finished walking across the four-lane street at his own pace until he reached the opposite sidewalk and continued on his way.

To the pedestrians and drivers on this street, the man seemed to be the luckiest bastard on earth. Almost every day he crosses the street when it’s at its busiest, and yet every time he avoids injury and even death. His total disregard for those around him causes others to avoid him, for fear of what he might be capable of if pushed too far.

Lucky. Now that was an interesting choice of words. However the man had known better. If he was lucky, he’d consider death to be a release, freedom from this world that had seemed to forsake him for just being alive. The past that followed him haunted his mind and as such he regarded everyone else as naive or stupid. He shunned anyone who tried to be friends with him, because they’d only end up getting hurt. Either by him or some stroke of “bad luck.”

His own worst enemy, his own best friend.

Ivan Faust.

When looking at the man, it was hard to imagine that he was homeless. Brown rimmed glasses rested on his nose, not hiding the cold stare from his icy blue eyes. His hair was dark, black really, and it was tied up in a slick ponytail. Black pants lined with buckles shifted back and forth with every step that Ivan took. Shiny black shoes didn’t have a speck of dirt on them. His coat was long and the tail-end seemed to resemble the flows of a cape. Even his shirt was black. The one thing that made people most nervous around Ivan would have to be the long-sword sheathed on his back, and the disregard he had for wearing it out in the open.

Today was just an ordinary day for the anti-social drifter, and just like every day he was hungry.

And he knew where to get food.

* * *

In early afternoon, a college class was getting out of session. The instructor’s three-hour long lecture boring several individuals, and putting a few to sleep.

One student in particular, watched the instructor with annoyance. This female, when asked by anyone else, could be described as “gothic.” Her hair was black, but more of a dyed-black than natural, it was also cut short, with a few bangs hanging in front of her face. The eye-liner that surrounded her ice grey eyes accented the whites and the light colors of the iris, making them stand out more than usual. The attire she wore, however, wouldn’t be considered gothic. A blue denim coat hung on her shoulders, slightly hiding the black shirt that she had underneath. The coat itself had its fair share of patches and repairs from years of wear and tear. Her legs had on dark blue jeans, and black leather boots donned her feet.

As class finished and she packed up her things to leave Auril Haven was glad that she didn’t have class for another week. Her schedule this year was interesting, only one three hour class held her back. Sure the homework was murder and a pain to accomplish, but it was still nice having a little bit more time to herself.

She wasn’t a social creature, as she found other humans to be more annoying and selfish than friendly and honest. The feeling of claustrophobia that she felt in class around other students was almost unbearable, so she walked past the dorms and headed for the downtown district, looking for a place to indulge herself in solitude from the rest of the human race.

Auril looked around the city. Something was a bit different today. Everything seemed more oppressive than usual, the weight of living in the world catching up with her? No, that wasn’t it. The college campus felt that way today, while somewhere else it seemed like something big was building, and the pressure trying to escape with a volcano’s force.

Something sent a chill up Auril’s spine and she froze on the sidewalk. Someone or something was watching and it almost froze her heart. She regained her composure and stood next to a building, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. The people that walked past her paid no attention to her discomfort, passing her off as just another kid with mental problems.

However Auril was able to see something that they couldn’t. A shadow. No, more than a shadow. It looked like a tear in reality. Auril stared at it as the crowd walked past it, a few even walking through it. A pair of eyes looked around at the people traveling to their destinations, and then it settled in on her. Narrowing as its gaze seemed to tear into her soul.

And Auril ran.

* * *

Walking along a broken sidewalk that the city council was too tight-budgeted to fix, a young man walked, his shoes meeting the gravel in a constant pace. Just like every other afternoon, Dennis “Denny” Roth walked to his home.

As per his usual sense of fashion, or lack thereof, he was wearing the same short-sleeved denim over-shirt he had for the last few years. The edges becoming frazzled and tattered due to age and how often he had it. Under the denim shirt was a black shirt with the face of a dragon breathing fire towards the viewer of the shirt, flames lit up along the lower hem. His pants were black and loose, covered in clasps and loops with several pockets. Four straps of fabric inter-mixed with chains attached to loops on opposite ends of his hips. Denny’s shoes were just regular tennis shoes with white and blue bands decorating them.

Stepping over an uplifted slap of concrete, Denny carefully made his way down a flight of stairs towards a badly repaired door sitting under someone else’s porch. Digging for his keys in the deep recesses of his pants pocket, he flipped the key ring around until he reached the one he was looking for. With a click, the tumblers in the dead-bolt worked and he was home.

Denny was never the best housekeeper, and he always felt an urge to clean whenever company came over. The futon was covered in papers, clothes, books, and other random articles that he had thrown there over the last few months. The coffee table was no better off, the top of the table hidden by strewn papers, books, and some old dishes. His drafting table, which he kept trying to use, soon became covered with books, tapes, boxes and other stuff he couldn’t fit anywhere else. He had moved here in a hurry, after his previous landlord had refused to let him renew his annual contract. So in a span of two days he had found this dungeon, moved everything, and was still in the process of sorting it all out.

He dropped his backpack on the covered futon before walking into his bedroom and changing clothes. Time wasn’t on his side today, as he had homework to do and practice to be at, and not enough time to do them both and get sleep in between. Changing into his gui pants and putting his belt and gui top in a duffel bag, he rounded up his CD player grabbed his sword, and left the apartment after making sure the deadbolt locked.

On a day like today, he walked. Mostly to save gas money, secondly because he enjoyed listening to the music he had. It always did put him into a good mood.

After fifteen minutes of walking, he made it to the steps of the dojo. Bounding up two at a time, he gave his legs a decent workout as well as winding himself before practice was even going to start. Breathing slightly hard, he walked along the stone path towards the front doors.

As he got closer, he noticed something off about the relaxation pool that sat before the doors. Normally he could see a rainbow in the mist that floated off from the continuously running water, but that’s not what he saw. There was a distorted purple, a sickly, nearly toxic look to the mist that seemed to flow off the edge of the pool and dissipate before it settled on the ground. Denny stared, wondering if anyone else saw this effect, but everyone who was mingling around seemed to be oblivious.

Gathering his courage, Denny walked closer, taking slow steps and watching the pool as he got even closer. The purple mist he had seen was and yet wasn’t coming from the pool. There was a distortion around the edge of the pool. Earthly tones seemed to swirl around and contort in on each other, as if devouring each other only to have them slip through a hole and then turn on the others. What was more, the entire thing seemed to be a rip, tearing at reality and revealing something else beyond. Almost like looking into the reflection of a mirror which was reflecting the mirror behind. Denny stared into the image, trying to make sense of it all when he noticed movement.

Something was writhing, slithering, and moving in contorted ways, a perverted mimic of any natural living creature he had seen. Folds of flesh seemed to twist and contort as if something was sliding just under the surface. Then the folds split to reveal a glowing yellow eye, staring right back at Denny and he froze. The eye, this horrible featureless eye, seemed to stare right into him burrowing into his very being, learning, searching, and threatening to consume him if he didn’t look away.

“Denny?”

“Eh-YA!” he exclaimed, causing everyone who wasn’t already in the dojo to stop and stare at him. His breathing was hard and he was a bit flustered. Even if someone did sneak up on him, he never reacted that badly. The other students just shrugged, shook their heads and continued on their way, mumbling about him under their breath.

Denny glanced behind him to find his Aikido Sensei standing there, concern in his face. “Denny are you okay?”

“Huh?” he said, his breath a bit less ragged. “Uh, yeah, just a bit dizzy from running up the stairs too fast I guess.” he lied, but he was also trying to push what he had just seen out of his mind too.

“Well, rest up if you need too, practice will be starting soon,” his Sensei stated and then walked into the dojo.

“You got it,” Denny replied, rolling his shoulder and making sure his duffle bag was resting comfortably. He stared back at the pool, giving it a long look. The distortion was still there, but whatever was looking at him was gone.

With a cold shiver running down his spine, Denny walked passed and into the dojo.

* * *

On any other day, the city would offer what little compassion it had to the downtrodden. Vagabonds, the homeless, wayward wanderers, sometimes would receive a small bit of kindness in Bartholomew. Today had been different, and then it had gotten worse.

Joey Ip appeared to be of Japanese descent, short at a little over four and a half feet tall. Her hair, a mixture of black with read highlights, was sticking out of the bandana covered in Jolly Rodgers that rested on her head. The bangs were held fast to her forehead, condensed sweat holding them there, and the rest was tied back, nearly shoulder length in all. Covering her frame was a long denim jacket that almost reached the ground. Under that was an open dress shirt revealing a tight shirt with a large skull and crossbones design, the bones exchanged for a pair of cutlass. Joey’s pants hung low on her hip, revealing some of her midriff, each leg sporting four pockets lined with silver zippers. Thick boots were on her feet, and dug subconsciously into the pavement.

There were a few times Joey had ever been scared. This was qualifying as one of them.

While making her rounds through Bartholomew’s business district, watching people and taking in everything she saw, she noticed something odd in the crowd walking on the crosswalk.

“What the..?” she muttered to herself.

She tried to get a closer look at what ever it was that grabbed her attention, but there was too many people crossing the street. Using her small size, she weaved through the busy sidewalk, getting closer. She thought there was a bit of violet or purple mist around where the crowd was densest in the street.

Closer, carefully maneuvering towards it, Joey wished she hadn’t.

She froze staring at what she saw. A twisted figure, misshapen, deformed, yet standing perfectly erect. Its head was long, similar to a deer without antlers. The skin was stretched, pulled back and exposing the bone structure beneath. Pure, black, eyes overlooked the people walking past, oblivious to its presence. More stretch marks indicated that its lips, what lips it did have, were sown shut and resembled a twisted doll from some gothic store.

It breathed with a rasping breath, inhaling the air deeply. Upon exhaling, dark purple mist streamed out.

Joey stared at the creature, terrified, shocked, and confused. “Oh holy mother of God…” she muttered, and it reacted.

With no visible ears, the thing turned towards her, its black eyes staring at her. The world seemed to disappear from her senses. Joey’s only sensation was this creature’s eyes, staring into her very soul. Then it smiled, a sadistic smile, causing the stitches that held the lips together into a demonic sneer. A growl rumbled in its throat, sharp and intentful.

Then, Joey ran, her heart racing. Letting her legs take her anywhere but here.

* * *

Walking lazily down a sidewalk, near some small businesses, a young woman shifter her shoulders so that the dark read and brown backpack wouldn’t put so much strain on her back. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose braid, and her eyes were slightly lighter than her hair. A light grey, hooded, sweatshirt was wrapped around her waist, and a sky blue shirt with an eagle soaring on the front was visible. Cargo pants were weighed down with various objects, a cell phone, wallet, pencils, and random receipts. Old and cheap sneakers met the concrete as a pewter pendant rested against her upper chest.

While Aliana Hurdan seemed quiet and shy to many people, once people got to know her, they would find that it was often far from the case.

Free from homework, bored, and hungry, she decided to turn into one of her favorite small stores called Dotty’s Variety. She pushed the door open, greeted by the chime of the bell attached to the handle.

“Hello Dotty,” she said, cheerful.

“Oh hello dear,” came the reply of an older woman behind the counter. “How are you today?”

“Doing good,” Aliana replied as she reached into the refrigerated doors and pulled out a sandwich and a drink. Small talk continued as she paid for her food and then left the small store.

She debated whether or not to start eating as she searched for a place to sit and enjoy her meal. The sandwich was already half unwrapped and a bite had been taken out of it, which Aliana ground between her molars.

She finally decided where to go, as she came up on the roundabout that circled Bartholomew’s founder. The brass statue stood tall, surrounded by various tables and of course, the traffic around it. Finding an open bench, Aliana took off her backpack and sat down on the bench, trying to ignore the traffic behind her and concentrate on her nice meal.

Despite already haven taken several bites of her sandwich, Aliana looked up at the statue and stared. Something seemed off. The brass, which was normally polished and maintained, seemed to be distorted. Yellow and purple stains covering the head and originating from a weird halo around the statue. Taking the sandwich away from her mouth, Aliana stared at it for several minutes. Something screamed in her mind that this wasn’t right, that this was all wrong.

That thought was vindicated, as a pair of claws seemed to appear from within the mist, and tried to pull. Then a second set appeared, facing the opposite direction. With more leverage, the thing on the other side of this rift, started to pull and rip a wider hole into reality.

Aliana rose to her feet, her sandwich dropping to the ground. Terror seemed to fill her mind, as the hole that was just ripped into the world, from the founder’s head, showed something far more sinister beyond it. A red eye floated into view, and stared back at Aliana, narrowing in sadistic glee.

Aliana grabbed her backpack, put one strap over her shoulder and started to run. Slightly off balance, something screamed at her to get as far away as possible. She ran through traffic, into people going the other direction, and eventually had to stop. There was no idea where she was now. She had been in a blind run, just trying to get away from whatever it was that she had seen.

She looked around, to see if it had followed her. While she wasn’t alone on the street, dozens of people continued to walk around her, but the thing that she had seen wasn’t here.

Her lungs demanded oxygen, and she tried to slow her breathing. She was okay, for now. However she wasn’t any match for whatever it was that looked at her, and everyone else ignored it! Unarmed, she needed something to protect herself.

With that thought in mind she headed home the fastest way she knew.

* * *

The Gerald Howard Mental Institute, a nice way of saying that “if you’re crazy, come in here.” Patients that reside in this hospital range from bi-polar to schizophrenia. The orderly conduct of the nurses and the operations of the hospital contrasting with the mental chaos of those that reside within the walls.

Sitting off in the corner of the commons room was a man, wrapped up in a straightjacket. He was curled up in the corner, rocking lightly back and forth, mumbling his own incoherencies to himself. Angelo Weiss wasn’t struggling against his restraints, rather what he was grateful for them. Well, that could be one way of describing it.

The straightjacket kept his arms tied back, and a pair of loose pants covered his legs. His feet were free however, un restrained by any shoes or socks. Long ago he had become accustomed to walking on his bare feet and using them to eat, drink, and manipulate objects.

Angelo rocked as he heard the nurses walk up to him.

“Mr. Weiss,” one of them said. “His is an extreme case. We have confirmed five different personalities, however his recent actions in the mess hall yesterday strike us as being yet more that need to be uncovered.”

Angelo twitched at the woman’s voice, as if she was striking him with a whip. Each word striking home on some subconscious level.

“Now we do… what?”

His ears perked up. There was a low, booming sound that vibrated the walls of the asylum. The sound vibrated through his chest, through his very being. The nurses looked around in confusion as the lights flickered.

Then came the screams, nurses, other patients. Something was tearing apart the asylum causing everyone to panic. The nurses left Angelo and a few other patients in the room to themselves. Something stirred within Angelo. He wasn’t that concerned with what was happening. It was that something was happening. Something he couldn’t explain.

The doors to the common room burst open as someone was thrown through them. The person was one of the senior medical staff, sliced open and most of the internal organs missing. Angelo stumbled to his feet, staring at the dead man lying on the ground. His whole world was unbalancing before his eyes, shifting around him like a serpent, ready to strike.

As he stood there, he saw the doors the body had flown through continue to swing back and forth. At the most open point he saw something down the hall. Something large, dark, and, he knew at his core, evil.

It was then that Angelo retreated, and someone else came forth.

* * *

Public transportation is crowded, even on Bartholomew’s slow days. Someone always has to be somewhere, and unfortunately for some, the ride from point A to point B is a long one.

Leucetius Daithi Íomhar, referred to as Leu by his friends was such a person. After 45 minutes of sitting on his rump in the center seat, he was positive this bus wasn’t going to get anywhere near his destination. Resting a hand on his head he looked out the window and let out a low whistle. Readjusting the headphones resting on his ears eh pushed the ‘play’ button on the MP3 player only to be rewarded with a ‘low battery’ signal.

“Damn!” he exclaimed which caught him some dark looks from the other passengers. He shot them his own dirty look and they backed off.

He ran a hand through his shaggy, yellow mop, hair, which complied by sticking in almost every direction imaginable. His grey eyes looked out the window once more as he tucked his player away, annoyed at his new boredom. Leu’s shirt was long on him, folded up as he sat, but could easily reach mid-thigh, an oddly mustard-ish yellow. He was wearing two belts, one through the loops of his jeans, and another over the top, giving his shirt a tunic appearance. His pants were grey jeans that where too long and tucked upwards from the hem, resting over soft leather boots.

Annoyed, he pressed the bell for the bus to stop. The vehicle urched to a stop by a sidewalk and he disembarked. He was lean, but well built at 6’7”, slung over his shoulder was a yew bow, as long as he was, and an extra bag. Springing down the stairs his boots hit the concrete and the bus door closed behind him. With the hissing of the air brakes the bus was back on its way.

He inhaled the air and seemed to feel the static on the wind. A storm was brewing, and would be here soon. How bad it was going to be, Leu didn’t know, but it was going to be enjoyable.

For now, he just wanted to run. Not out of fear, but run fast, and as far as his legs could go. Instead he sauntered down the side walk, looking up to the sky and nodding to the clouds, enticing them to let loose with the downpour.

* * *

One thousand, two hundred and sixty four times six percent GST is . . . $75.84. That makes it . . . $1339.84

The shift was ending for the night, and Kiina Prattle just realized that fact.

She was working on some more paperwork before she could go home for the day. Others were making the effort to be the first one out and the first one to their cars. It was something that Kiina didn’t understand. She finished her work, and turned it in. While everyone else was in a rush to escape, she was weeks ahead and could take her time if she needed.

Waving goodbye to her co-workers, Kiina made a mental note of their plans to meet later that week for a movie. By now the rest of the office was empty, some of the employees taking their time and letting the rush get on its way. As she stepped into the sun she was glad for the spring weather. Summer wasn’t that far away, but for now the weather was fair.

She brushed her red hair away from her face as she walked down the sidewalk. Kiina was tan, contrasting with her sunset-red hair. Green eyes complimented her hair, but were deep and seemed to hide something, like thick underbrush. She wore a modest t-shirt, not showing off her stomach like other girls. A fuzzy hoodie was resting on her shoulders and a light jacket tied around her waist. Slipping her hands into her pants pockets, she walked steadily as her sneakers met concrete.

As Kiina walked home, she noticed some people running like madmen, pushing several people aside and making cars honk at them for crossing the street. She was only able to give them a glance as she went home to prepare for the rest of the day.

At home she prepared her stuff and began her trek to the Dojo, which she reached without much incident.

Her sensei was understanding of her small class. With only five students it was one of the smaller classes that the dojo supported. A twin-bladed sword was not that popular, or conventional. Kiina worked on her attack and had finally managed to get it down when the Sensei had dismissed class.

She un-latched her swords and placed them in their bag. She went to the locker and changed before exiting the dojo. Many of the students were gone and the sun was low in the sky, meaning it wasn’t quite evening yet.

Taking her time, she walked past the reflecting pool and stopped. Something was horribly wrong. Fear started to curl in her chest as she stared at the purple mist flowing from the pool itself. Carefully she approached it.

The mist wasn’t natural. Kiina didn’t know how she thought so, but somehow she knew. As she neared it, she saw that the mist wasn’t coming from the pool, but it was coming from something on the pool. A tear in reality, drawing all light into a sickly distorted vortex of liquid, mist, and muck. As she stared, the mixture within the rip distorted itself, producing a clawed hand which gripped onto the edges of the tear. Another appendage, resembling a decomposing lobster claw, latched onto the other side. With a chilling laughter, something strained against the tear, pulling it wider apart, and Kiina started stepping backwards, the fear building in her chest.

A massive snake-like head with deformed antlers undulated as it forced itself up. The head was on a swan-like neck lion-like mane with muck and goo dripping from the mane. A barrel chest revealed some scales, while goo and liquid covered the rest. The entire creature was in an undefined state, trapped between solid and liquid. Globs of the muck sizzled when the hit the ground, causing any nearby plant life to wither and die. Thin but strong legs lurched it forward through the tear, each ending in two curved claws. The head turned towards Kiina and hissed, edges of the lips curling and revealing recurved teeth and two pairs of massive fangs.

Kiina felt faint and started to backpedal away from the thing, but ended up running into someone. Startled, she stepped away from who she ran into to see him. He was a bit taller than her by maybe five or so inches. He had long black hair that was tied back, some bangs stuck to his face from sweat and golden rimmed glasses that seemed to merge with his face. This guy… she had seen him before. In the dojo, on campus, she had seen him before, his large sized clothes and pants with metal straps and hoops set him apart.

But his eyes were wide apart with fear and shock. He wasn’t staring at her like she was some idiot. He was staring at the ting that just climbed through the reflecting pool.

Everyone else seemed to walk around them, watching them oddly like both of them had lost their minds. They other students also vacated the area quickly, some subconscious reaction that no one could comprehend.

Kiina looked up at the guy she had bumped into and then at the thing that was dripping corrosive muck all over the path and grass.

“You – you can see tha-that thing too?”

“Yeah,” Denny muttered in reply. “I can see it.”

-----------------------------
Demons choke the world, draining it for their own gain. Through the blood and pain, heroes emerge, unsure of their destinies, or of their pasts. As they learn of their true strength and those that will help them, they must decide if they should band together, or fall on their own.

Next: First Blood

[Mew Trainer Rose]

Yay, the fic is up! I've been looking forward to this. This chapter was kind of slow, but that's to be expected when it mainly consists of introducing and describing the characters and setting. The descriptions were nice and detailed, though, and easy to picture.

And now we're due for a lot more action next chapter.