The Devil's Surprise (Open to one)

[undead]

The soft pitter-patter of delicate footsteps echoed faintly in the dim light of the half-hidden moon, breaking through the thick, glassy layer of silence that had swam through the air not a moment before. The atmosphere was serene. That day had gone by just as any other had in the somewhat peaceful city of Scara Brae. Workers on their way to work, mothers cleaning already spotless houses, and children running about paving roads for their lives and others . . . what was to be expected? It was not everyday that an undead strode through town, making her way among the others as though she fit in.

Yet there she was. Rine had done an excellent job of staying on the down-low, and she was rewarded with only suspicious glances and questioning stares. Who wouldn't stare? Who wouldn't point at a small hooded figure making its way across the smooth pebbles of the road, ducking behind clattering carts? Oh, and not to mention the deathly white, skinny little ankles and feet which were the only things visible to the naked eye.

But she did not walk in the path of mere mortals for enjoyment. There was nothing anyone could do to bring this being any pleasure. She was a hollowed-out stump, useless for itself but helpful to others . . . one other.

"Rine?" The familiar, hated voice whispered into the little figure's mind. She scowled and slipped into an alleyway to avoid confrontation with any possible overly-curious passerby’s. Safe in the dark, dancing shadows, she was able to concentrate more on what he needed to say to her, though if she could have had it her way he would shove his words up his...

"What do you want?" her harsh, venomous voice spat aloud. Her white hands were tight fists, and her eyes blazed red from the darkness of her hood. An evil chuckle rang through her head, making her body quiver.

"That's my girl," Satan crooned. "Still nice and evil, just like when you left. But you're softening, my dear, and you know we can't have that." His tone was mocking, and from the pull of his words you could practically see his grin. Rine jerked her head in anger.

"Don't treat me like I'm your pet. You don't control me, I make my own decisions," she insisted. He chuckled again, and she felt her head spinning. Warmness spread down her icy body, stirring her nerves and making her stagger.

"Oh, but I do." There was a pause, and Rine used that moment to steady herself. The nagging need to change form tugged on her chest, and the faint whisper of approaching footsteps only encouraged it. Who's coming? I cannot be seen. She subconsciously pulled her hood down lower with one hand, as she leaned against the wall with the other.

"I have a new errand for you. There will be someone coming who has something for you that I need for purposes of my own. Find them and get the item. Be quick about it too, I don't need you playing around." Rine froze as her mind spun, trying to imagine what could be so important that the devil himself would want it. "That's none of your concern,"he snapped rudely, listening in on her thoughts. She snarled aloud. "I do not want you killing them no matter what they do to you, do you understand? No matter what they say, no matter how they provoke. I need them alive."

"Why? What is so important about them that you need them? Life is nothing to you, so why do you insist on keeping it in them?" Rine shook her small head in confusion. "Who are they? Whatare they? What is it I'm looking for? I need more information!" But the Devil was gone. Rine spat and let out a monstrous roar. A moment later she was on the ground, her body controlled by a different force.

What the...? She shook and convulsed, though her hood still managed to stay on.

"Don't be a fool. Be wary of the one who approaches. I will release you when they arrive. Do not play the tough one. Go along with them, until you learn what you need to." The words echoed in her head along with some haunting melody, almost as if Satan himself were whistling a tune.

So there she laid, back wrenching tremors wracking her body, limbs distorting themselves. If she could feel, the pain would have been excruciating.

[Death's Nephew]

Tommy kicked at a small perfectly shaped rock while he ambled about the road slowly. The sun had set minutes ago, leaving only delicate traces of its presence to grace the edges of the horizon, but he didn’t care much. As small children began to race home before they were snatched away by unfamiliar hands, he smiled as the darkness closed in from all sides. He was home during this time. When he stood in the shadows and closed his eyes, he could almost feel like he was…but then some horse or noisy person would clatter by and break his focus.

He’d yet to find his purpose in this realm. His uncle told him that if he wandered around the lands, gaining experience in combat against foes superior to the damned souls that thought causing a ruckus would get their mortal lives back; he’d find the man he was to protect. The man he would eventually help to restore a balance to realms beyond his knowledge. He watched the pebble cross over sticks and pass other rocks, watching it bounce with less energy as every second passed.

I know how you feel pal…

He moved a few strands of snow white hair from his eyes and stopped walking. The pebble had bumped against a piece of trash, long unidentifiable before he’d ever thought of coming to this town, and studied it with his pitch black eyes. Would he run into something that would lead to a halt in his travels such as this? A worthless blockade, just meant to waste his time?

“Gossum change, buddy?”

Tommy turned to his left and eyed a beggar holding his filthy hand out expectantly. “No.” He said simply as he walked on. The half specter was not a generous person nor was he going to shun off any charitable act on the planet. He just wasn’t in a mood to give hand outs. What he did every second of every day depended on his current state of mind.

A greasy hand tugged at his black leather jacket, causing him to stop. He looked over his shoulder and heard, “With a purrty jacke’ like this, you oughta ‘ave sooome spar’ change!”

The annoyed specter cocked his head to the left, like a puppy looking at its master, hoping for a treat. But his eyes spoke far worse than hoping. His eyes darted over the bum’s complete body, analyzing quickly what he had on his person. He spotted a bulge in his grime stained coat and immediately reached in and seized the contents, grinning lightly at his accurate assumption.

“Hey! Thas’ mine!” The beggar shouted.

In his right hand, Tommy held a bottle three quarters full of vodka. He’d often seen horrid souls reeking of this stench on their person and would confiscate it from them, tormenting them further as they were sent to hell. Ripping the top off, he splashed the contents all over the man until nothing was left in the glass container. The beggar was furious and began shouting threats, until Tommy’s left hand suddenly burst into green flames. The leapt and danced around his closed fist, eager to wreck havoc on whatever they could touch. The bum tried to step back in fear, but slipped on the pebble and trash behind him, wailing in surprise, his arms flinging out instinctively. Something stopped his fall abruptly and he opened his eyes to see the white haired specter holding his arm with his right, non-flaming hand.

“I said, no.” Tommy said softly as his dark eyes gazed at the trembling figure. Without another word, he seized the bum’s throat with his flaming hand and relished in the scream that came from him. Every part of his vodka soaked body instantly caught aflame with the emerald blaze and the half specter dropped the beggar, leaving him to his own devices.

He walked away as he heard the man screaming for his life, slamming into buildings and the ground repeatedly, hoping for salvation. Soon his cries were no more, and only the soft crackling of a corpse pierced the silent night.

He was obviously in a mood to kill. It was his best way to remove stress and these days were full of them. Sighing comfortably, he preceded down a nearby alley to contemplate his actions and possibly justify them even more in his favor.

It was then he noticed a hooded feminine figure lying on the ground, moving as if electricity were shooting through her entire body. Watching her intently for a few minutes, he wondered if he should touch her…but was aware that getting to close to her reach was an invitation to having his esophagus torn out. So he did the next best thing.

He found a stick and poked her.

[undead]

Rine's vision began to blur. Her teeth were clenched, along with her fists, and her head was filled with curses and wretched ideas of things she wished she was able to do to the Devil. Honestly, who wouldn't enjoy seeing his head blown off every now and then?

And then everything stopped. Rine blinked her large eyes stupidly, and stared at the ground which her face was planted into. The footsteps had stopped, and she felt a presence nearby. A quick check with her senses told her her head was still covered, along with the rest of her body. No, there'd be no demon sighting tonight. Not if she could help it anyways.

Slowly, cautiously, she placed the palms of her milky-white hands onto the ground beneath her, and pushed. Her legs kicked in, and then she was standing, staring up at the tall boy in front of her. Her hood shadowed her face, but her feet and hands were visible. And she just stared.

It was not his unusual white hair or dark eyes that held her attention. Not his handsome features or his tasteful (in her opinion) clothing. It was his aura. He reeked, fumed, emitted the distinct, potent configuration of death. And Rine loved it.

Snapping out of her dazed state, her gold eyes traveled down to his hand which held the stick. He. . . poked me? She wasn't sure whether to be angry or annoyed. Either way all she could do was stare. Stare and stare stupidly. What was she going to say? "Don't poke me"? "I'll hurt you if you do it again"? "I'll kill you, you sorry little..."? Not likely. Was this the strange specimen the Devil had told her to find? A human-looking boy who smelled like 'roses' and had a tendency to poke people with sticks? Her eyes scanned the area quickly for a hint at where he might have gotten the stick from.

The annoying, prodding words of Satan and his slithery voice echoed through Rine's head then, and she had a feeling it wasn't her memory who decided to remind her. "...don't play tough..." Rine scoffed inside, but on the outside she was quiet as death. Oh, right, she was dead. Remembering, she made it look like she was breathing by raising and lowering her chest. The process was troublesome and quite unnecessary, but she did it all the same. It's not likely he'll fall for that one.

"Please sir," she began in that fake, sappy, pathetic little "I'm young, delicate, and lost; hold me!" voice, which she had used before she'd died. Back in the good ole' days. "I'm lost. Perhaps you can show me the way to the road." Her voice cracked once or twice from her lack of socialization. Beneath her hood she grimaced, just then picturing how she most likely appeared: a girl who'd just been convulsing out in the middle of an alley, suddenly saying crap about being lost. Today was not Rine's day.
Waiting for his response, Rine scrutinized him, looking for anything that stood out that might be of use to her. Nothing.

[Death's Nephew]

When she stopped moving, he was slightly worried. When she popped to her feet as if waking from a nap, he was pretty nervous. And when she started “breathing”, he was wishing he had his sword in his hand rather than the flimsy stick in his hand. The way the hood covered her face in darkness, her bone white skin, and her girlish voice that emitted from the black portal before him all were telltale sings to jump back and fend off the thing before him.

And with a sudden jarring hit to the head, he realized why he was so jumpy. Her demeanor reminded him of the times when a soul would try to re-enact characteristics of the living, in a futile attempt to become alive again. Some would try to eat the dirt around them, other would feign sleep or yawn to try to get it, and others would try what she was faking; breathing. Her silent stare was either of her planning to attack him for his foolish jabbing or she was trapped in her own thoughts. Whatever the reason, he took advantage and tucked the stick in his back pocket slowly and let his right hand fall in a dagger, ready to snatch out and shove in her throat in seconds.

When the silence was broken by her plea for help, he knew she was no longer among the living. Her voice cracked and barred like someone relearning to walk. And her very essence tasted similar to his home. It was almost nostalgic. Ignoring her fake cries for help, he eyed her carefully before saying, “Sorry for poking you…but I wasn’t going to take a chance if you were in a dangerous frame of mind.” His tone was even and sincere, but he kept his hand on the hilt of the dagger.

The darkness seemed to thicken as they stood there, their similar energies combining to repel all things light and good natured. If a squirrel had wandered into their auras, he was sure it would catch fire. The feeling made him uneasy but excited at the same time. This was his first big thing to happen since getting here. His uncle would most likely scold him until the end of time if he didn’t trust his gut right this moment.

“So…mind tell me why you were laying here in the darkness? Doesn’t seem like a safe place to be…” he squinted at her, “Um, what’s your name? I’m Tommy.” He held out a hand to her, his free hand, and began to relax a little as he saw a bird abruptly turn in the sky behind the girl and fly away.

[undead]

Rine was thankful for the hood as the boy began to speak. From beneath the shadows, she was paralyzed. He was so strange to her. The aura and look of him was full of such wrath and death, that if it was possible for her to be afraid, she would have been. Terrified. Thankfully, the Devil had rid her of most of the things that had made her human. The most powerful proof that she had once been human was her body, and even that wasn't too normal.

But she was so shocked because the kid seemed completely earnest when he held his hand out to her in the human form of greeting. He looked…friendly. A shiver of disgust and puzzlement ran up Rine’s small spine. She wouldn’t touch him. Why would he touch her? He’ been around them too long. His hand, she would not shake, but instead she lifted hers, keeping her fingers pointed to the sky. Maybe he won’t be offended. I’ve seen some greet this way. Maybe he will. Like I care.

“Why am I in the darkness, you ask?” There was a definite hint of mockery in her voice, and even though her face wasn’t visible, it was obvious she was smiling. Rine was half tempted to pull back her hood, but then the Devil’s words replayed themselves. Again. It seemed the boy had already caught on that she was no soft little lamb, and she was almost certain he sensed her vibe. Besides, which helpless farm girl wore concealing hoods, had seizures in alleys, and white skin? Rine mentally scolded her stupidity.

“Because the darkness is what keeps me safe.” Her eyes drifted to his hand near his blade. “And you won’t need that. You have something I need. I expect to get it. Now.” She wanted to clear things up, and her awful habit of speaking in fragments would have made her blush, but of course she didn’t. Her golden eyes returned to his black ones, and she drilled ever-watchful holes. He has to know what I’m talking about. He couldn’t be carrying something Satan of Hell wants, and have no clue. As a threat, Rine’s own hand drifted behind her back.

[Death's Nephew]

Oh…not good.

Tommy’s gaze hardened slowly like lava cooling in the water.Whatever it was she wanted, Tommy had no obligation to hand it over without fighting for it first. Suddenly, his obsidian ring sparkled on his finger, a dark emerald haze flashing over like a flickering candle in the wind.

The ring? Why? It hasn’t done anything….until now.

A dark energy pulsed through his right hand as the ring continued to glow with unknown power. He noticed her arm move out of his sight, obviously procuring a weapon of her own, but he couldn’t read her eyes since the hood darkened her entire face in that bottomless void. But he had his ways of seeing through the darkness.

Let’s see what we got here…

Both of his eyes turned entirely black, as if a ominous cloud were seething from his pupils to claim his entire eyeball, not even leaving the tiniest bit of white to see. Now he saw clearly through the night and into her hood…to see a pair of large golden eyes observing him almost nervously. Her hairless head and pale skin were more than enough to keep his guard up, but her nervous glowing eyes are the only thing that kept him from striking.

“So…what happens if I say no?” He tightened his arm and flexed his left hand. The glowing ring continued to pulsate, now on beat with his very heart, and he could feel energy steadily growing within him. “Cuz I gotta say babe, your little sharp teeth don’t scare me enough to just hand something over.” His words were cold and sharp, just like his eager dagger. He let his aura feed into the ring’s power, feeling his body grow darker by the passing second.

He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was liking it.

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting for a full year. Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another admin and they will be able to move it for you back to Scara Brae.