Hellooooo~ If youve been around for a long time you may remember this story. I rewrote it about a million times before I felt like crap and gave up on writing completely. This one kinda combines them all together with the main focus being on the first version. I suppose I keep coming back to this because I want to write but I'm not creative enough to come up with anything new so I just reuse old plots I like
Anyway there are three main fan characters/ocs/whateve so warning if you dont like that stuff. Also my writing style and Rins character dont go good together. I tried my best but ugh. Apologies in advance.
Suggestions are always appreciated. Thanks for reading xoxo
I'm not sure how long it took me to realize I was awake.
I had woken up in a strange, clean room with an unfamiliar, earthy taste in my mouth. It was thick on the back of my throat and made my tongue feel dry. I didn't know where I was, what I was doing here, or what had hit me hard enough to make my head hurt so much. With a weary groan, I pulled myself into an upright position and immediately regretted it. The pain in my head intensified, and I shut my eyes tightly as the world reeled around me.
When the nausea faded, I carefully eased my eyes open, the room now a swirling haze of monochrome colors that had no distinguishable shapes. I blinked hard a few times until, slowly, my senses returned to me.
I recognized that I was in some kind of hospital room, but that was it. Everything (aside from a wooden door) was void of color. The walls were an industrial gray, lacking windows or any kind of decorations, and the white marble counter across from me had a few colorless supplies neatly organized atop it. I was seated comfortably on a metal gurney next to a beeping machine. Belatedly, I realized I was attached to it—there was a needle taped to the bend of my arm that ran to some kind of pouch hanging from a metal stick nearby. I tugged at the tube gently, making a sharp spike of pain shoot up my arm. I decided to leave it alone after that.
I shifted my weight slightly and the blanket they had draped over me slipped from my shoulders. A chill crawled over my skin, giving me goosebumps. I wore nothing but a papery-thin gown tied in the back in a few different places. I fidgeted mindlessly with one of the strings until I heard the door open. Startled, I scrambled to cover myself.
In walked a young man who would quickly become my worst nightmare.
He was petite and a bit boyish for his age, with light blonde hair that ended just below his chin and dull blue eyes. He completely ignored me, turning his attention to the noisy machine. He tapped some information into a thick tablet he was holding.
I wasn't sure what to do, so I decided to introduce myself. "...Hello."
Bad idea.
He shot me a horrifyingly livid glare and I instantly pressed my lips shut. I didn't know what I had done to upset him, but I figured it was best not to antagonize him. I patiently waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.
After an uncomfortably long moment of tense, awkward silence, he yanked the needle out of my arm. I flinched at the sudden pain, but it vanished quickly, leaving behind nothing but a little red dot. "How do you feel?"
It took me a second to realize he was asking me a question. "Like I've been hit by a truck."
He didn't acknowledge my response and continued, his voice firm and far from pleasant. "Your name is Rin."
Suddenly, I realized I had forgotten more than just where I was—I didn't know my name, my age, my family, or even how I should act. I struggled to search my memory, but nothing was there. It was like someone had reached into my head and pulled everything out. And yet...I didn't feel the least bit bothered by any of this. Was I supposed to react this way? Was this normal? I couldn't remember.
But then I decided that it didn't really matter. If it was that important, I'd remember it, right?
"Rin." My voice echoed the name he gave me. I liked it—it had a faint aura of familiarity and seemed to fit me.
"Get up." He stepped back, gesturing for me to stand.
I shoved the thin blanket aside and maneuvered to stand with some difficulty. As soon as my feet hit the cold floor, my legs gave out and I fell with a pained yelp. I couldn't move for a bit, my head throbbing with my racing heartbeat. Eventually, I made another attempt. My entire body trembled as I strained myself, this time trying to use the gurney for support. But, it was on wheels, and slid under my weight; so back down to the floor I went.
Blondie sighed loudly, an irritated crease forming in the space between his brows. "Get up," he repeated, firmer this time. "I don't have all day."
You could help me if you're in such a hurry! But I swallowed my retort. I had a strong hunch he wouldn't like being sassed.
After a few more clumsy attempts, I was finally able to stand steadily on my own. He wasted no time, grabbed my tail (have I always had that?), and dragged me out of the room. He shut the door with his foot. "Let's go." He released me and continued down the hall without checking to see if I was behind him.
It was either go with him or get lost, so I obeyed. Curious, I glanced down the corridors we passed, but couldn't find anything interesting—no windows and no trace of sunlight.
The silence between us dragged on, almost palpable in its intensity. I was growing increasingly uncomfortable, and decided to break it by asking the question that had been on my mind since I woke up. "Where are we?"
"Elysium." His response was so sharp and short it took me a second to process it.
"Uhh..."
"Elysium is an underground sanctuary for docile demons," he explained curtly. "We—the exorcists—provide for you. We protect you from people who would gladly hunt and kill you in the outside world. We give you a place to sleep, clothes, and a society to interact with. In return, we are allowed to study your species to improve our weaponry against feral demonic entities."
"I'm a...demon?" The word snagged on my tongue, but it felt right somehow.
I am a demon.
"A half-breed to be specific." He stopped abruptly and turned to me. I almost bumped into him. "Don't think that makes you any better than the other residents—you're still a piece of shit."
Whoa, who pissed in this dude's corn flakes?
I tried to ignore his unfriendly tone. "When can I go home?"
"You are home. Hurry and get dressed." He nodded to a white door I hadn't realized we were standing beside. My stomach sank and a chill ran down my spine. I peeked in, expecting something horrible.
But it was just a regular changing room.
Man, since when did white doors make me so nervous?
I brushed off the sensation of dread, walked inside, and locked the door behind me. I don't think he would care, but I wasn't about to give Blondie the pleasure of seeing me naked.
The room was small, barely wider than the door. There was a full length mirror mounted on one side of the short wall and a bench with a pile of neatly folded clothes atop it: brown slacks, a plain shirt, a matching brown vest, a black pullover, socks, shoes, underwear, etc. Everything looked incredibly boring.
Grumbling unhappily to myself, I changed out of the hospital gown. I wasn't sure what to wear, so I just threw everything on. As I did, I noticed a long, pink scar on the underside of my left arm. How long has that been there? I felt a few bumps under my skin when I ran my finger across it, but, otherwise, didn't think much of it. Once dressed, I examined myself in the mirror and attempted to fix my shaggy, navy hair. No matter what I did, the locks refused to stay in place. I gave up after a bit, and my gaze wandered to my face. Was this me? My eyes, my nose, my lips—I didn't recognize any of it.
Oh well.
I made one last attempt to straighten my hair and exited the room.
"Ready!" I gave Blondie the biggest, brightest smile I could manage. Maybe if he thought I was a nice guy, he wouldn't be such a dick.
It didn't work.
With a disgusted huff, he turned on his heel and briskly walked down a different hallway. I had to jog slightly to keep up with him. We entered an empty room that looked a bit like a lobby and stopped in front of two large, glass doors. A group of thick, metal cables hung down in the center. I leaned forward, pressing my face to the glass, but I couldn't see the bottom. Blondie pushed the call button and we were left to wait for the elevator in silence. Again.
Standing quietly next to this guy felt like I was waiting for an execution. His presence was so uncomfortably overbearing it made me sweat.
"Uhh... Hey, what's your name?" I wanted to call him something other than Blondie—it sounded really tacky.
"Armand." I was expecting him to ignore me, so his response was a surprise.
"Oh, cool! Well, Armand, I hope we can—"
"Shut up."
Wow. This guy was an asshole. He was the biggest asshole I've ever met in my life.
Okay, so I couldn't remember all the assholes I've met, but I'm pretty sure this guy was number one on that list.
Thankfully, the remainder of our wait was brief. The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, revealing a large room surrounded entirely by thick glass. Armand gestured for me to enter. I stood in the back corner, trying to get as far away from him as possible. There were only two visible buttons on the panel: up and down. He pressed the down arrow and waited impatiently, arms crossed loosely against his chest. This time, I decided to keep my mouth shut.
The ride was painfully slow; so, with nothing else to grab my attention, I decided to take a closer look at Armand.
His clothes were just as boring as mine: he wore a pristine, white lab coat that reached his knees, shiny, black boots, pressed, black pants, and a light brown sweater. The tablet he was carrying earlier fit perfectly into the pocket of his coat, leaving his hands free to work. He wore no accessories except for a thin, gold ring with a small sapphire set in the center. The color seemed to match his eyes.
I also noticed he had an unstrung crossbow strapped to his thigh. (I figured he had arrows for it somewhere, but I couldn't see them.) I tried not to feel nervous at the sight of it, but I couldn't help wondering what he used it for.
"Stop staring."
Huh?
He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Stop staring or I'll rip your eyes out."
Fine, sheesh. I turned away and started fussing with the tuft of fluffy fur on my tail instead.
How could someone so slender and cute be such a giant prick?
As I was struggling to come up with an answer, the rocky elevator shaft suddenly ended, revealing a massive, underground cavern with a city tucked into it. I froze, breathless.
Directly below us was the alcove where the exorcists worked. I saw a computer and a big white door that separated them from the city, but the angle of our descent made it impossible for me to get a really good look.
The city itself was composed of two distinct areas: a square-shaped plaza and a bigger residential circle. The plaza was just a bunch of empty space. An ornate, three-tier fountain sat off to the side, deliciously clear water gushing from each marble platform. Six wide, square rings with evenly spaced wooden doors made up the residential circle. The buildings, if you could call them that, were carved out of the same rock that made up the expansive cavern. It was split down the middle by a narrow, cobbled path and speckled with people—no, demons, not people. Two identical buildings sat in each back corner behind the houses. White ceramic tiles lined their entrances, so I assumed these were public bathrooms. Florescent lights were mounted on the high ceiling and posts with torches trapped in iron fixtures were placed at regular intervals throughout the city. The combination of lights bathed the cavern in a welcoming, yellow glow.
A chain-link fence wrapped around the entire outside. Barbed wire coiled around the top and I could just barely make out illegible words on the thin metal, like some kind of seal to keep the residents enclosed.
The magnificent view disappeared and the elevator came to a stop. Its doors opened with another soft ding and I was finally able to see the exorcist's section. Off to my left was a sitting area with a table, a few chairs, and a row of lockers. To my right was...well, I don't know. The room wrapped around behind the elevator, so I couldn't see what was back there. In front of me was the entrance to the city and, beside it, a rather nice computer with dual monitors atop a neatly organized desk. I looked around once again to be sure, but no one else was here.
Where were the exorcists?
Armand roughly grabbed my arm, dragging me to the computer. He sat down on the cushioned office chair and began clicking away at something. A spreadsheet of numbers appeared on one of the screens. "Push up your sleeve." I obeyed, pulling back the sleeve of my shirt and holding my arm out for him. He took one dismissive glance at it and glared viciously at me. "Your other sleeve."
Oh...oops.
I held out my left arm for him. He turned it over and ran a cold, hand-held scanner along the length of my scar. It beeped softly three times, and three separate strings of random numbers appeared on the screen. I guess this was their way of keeping track of everyone.
I turned my attention away from him and tried to get a peek at whatever was hiding behind the elevator shaft. I'm not sure why, but I had a feeling it was something terrible.
Armand called my name. I was too distracted by my new surroundings to notice, and was startled when he suddenly threw something at me. It smacked me in the face before I managed to catch it.
It was a pair of dog tags on a long ball chain. I ran my thumb gently across the engravings embedded into the small, misshapen, iron pieces, the metal cold under my touch. On one side of either tag was an intimidating silhouette of a demonic head; the other side had two lines of writing: Rin and #4C.
"Don't lose those." I looked up, but Armand was already back at the computer. "Demons who lose their tags are executed at the beginning of the day."
I fidgeted with them uncomfortably for a moment and then threw the chain over my neck. I tucked the tags into my pullover for extra security. "What does '4C' mean?"
"That's your house number." He didn't look away from the screen, clicking at a different window now. "Row number four, house letter c. Easy."
I was meant to wear my house number at all times? At least this way I wouldn't forget where I lived.
"We're done now." Armand stood and punched a six-digit code into a keypad beside the silver door. It swung open automatically. "Go on."
I was...reluctant to go in alone. Even if he was a complete asshole, having Armand would make me feel a little more comfortable. "You're not going to escort me? What if I get lost?"
But he just continued to glare at me in silence.
Why did he have to look so angry all the time?
I took a hesitant step forward, my stomach spinning in uncomfortable loops. I could already see a few demons loitering around the plaza, all dressed in the same clothes I had. No one looked up as I entered, and I silently hoped they wouldn't notice me. I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, and took another step.
Why was I so nervous? This place was built to protect people like me, right? I glanced back at Armand, hoping for some reassurance. He stood in the entrance impatiently, arms folded tight over his chest, hand balled into fists, an irritated crease between his brows. "Go," he commanded. "I won't tell you again."
Fine! I wasn't expecting help from you anyway, jerk.
Locating some courage, I steeled my nerves and walked into the plaza. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a pair of people in black lab coats hitting something. I tilted my head to get a better look.
Wait, no not something—someone.
Two exorcists had a demon trapped beneath them, and they were taking turns beating his already battered body. He flailed helplessly, raising his hands to protect his face from the onslaught. Rage boiled inside me as I watched the scene unfold. No matter what he had done, he didn't deserve this type of punishment. His eyes found mine, and I could easily see the silent plea in his frightened expression. Why wasn't anyone helping him? There were other demons around, but they just sat there, acting like nothing was happening.
I couldn't take it anymore. "Hey! Knock it off!" My voice sounded sharper than I intended, but I was too angry to care.
The two men paused and looked up at me. The brief distraction gave their victim an opportunity to escape to safety. His gaze raked over me, like he was memorizing my features, and then he awkwardly scrambled to his feet and ran. "What did you say?" One of the exorcists narrowed his eyes dangerously at me. The other rested his hand on a holstered pistol at his hip. I took a small step back, my anger replaced by apprehension.
"He said knock it off." I jumped, surprised to find Armand standing next to me.
Their faces instantly paled. "A-Armand!? We were just—"
"—Abusing your exorcist positions. I noticed." His stern, vicious tone swiftly silenced them. "Darius, your shift is over. Trell, you're needed in the exam room."
"But—"
"Did I stutter? Now."
The two shared a worrying glance. "Right." They quickly (and quietly) made their way to the waiting elevator, giving Armand a wide berth as they passed.
Yikes—I'm glad I wasn't the only one afraid of him.
"Thanks for your help!" I gave him a genuine smile. "You're not such a bad guy after all!"
The irritated expression on his face seemed to soften, (or was I just seeing things?) "Go home, Rin. I'm calling curfew soon." He turned on his heel and walked back through the silver door. It hissed mechanically as it closed behind him.
I lingered there, watching the elevator carrying the two exorcists disappear into the ceiling of the cavern. Something in the back of my mind told me I would never see the gray walls of the upstairs facility again. But that was fine, right? This place was built for people like me. I'm safe here, right? My hands trembled slightly.
Why was I so scared?
