A/N:So, this is happening. To be honest, I never really thought that I would see myself typing this out and actually posting something here on FFN. But enough about me, let's get to the real reason why you're here: this story. Now I haven't always been a fan of comics, seeing how most people are raised reading comics, and I never really got hooked.
Then one day, a friend of mine recommended web comics about four years ago, and lo and behold, I got addicted to them. Especially 'Slightly Damned', Chu got me addicted with the inner emo in all of us with the title, then made it run away in fear with the hilariousness it held in it's adventures.
I guess with the meager amount that web-comics get in terms of stories on this site, I would contribute to it (not saying there aren't any good ones, just that there isn't many in the first place). And seeing that this here is my first story, I guess I'll ask you, readers, to not be gentle in your criticism. As a matter of fact, do not hold back in your reviews. I rather earn those follows after much criticism than write badly.
So, with that out of the way, the Prologue. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Seeing as how I call myself Randy and not Chu, am not a female, and I cannot make art to save a life, that eliminates three possibilities for me to be the creator of 'Slightly Damned'. Therefore, I do not own any properties other than the situation and characters that makes this AU. Probably.
I was an odd kid, now that I think about it.
I was raised by my Ma, with my father dying from an accident at work when I was around eight months old. Before that, I was a fairly normal infant: incredibly needy, wailing when something is needed or I felt alone, and so on.
But when my father died, there was a shift in the way things were; in the way I acted.
When I ever ask my Ma if I was ever a handful, she always answers with a smile and a shake of her head. She always said that I was surprisingly easy, compared to what rumors of how children are when being raised. In the back of my mind, I felt like I knew what the reason was as to why I was like that.
It never came to me until much later on.
As I grew up, I was the kid who was never really active in the social department. Teachers who watch their students play with whatever activity they set on them that day would find me never working with a group. Usually they would either put me into an assigned one. Or they would let me be, then I would go home with my mother asking me if I made any friends that day. The answer was no, of course.
I still made good grades, however, so Ma never worried too much.
I made my way through elementary and middle school, without much excitement. Any sort of friendship that was made always started with someone coming to me, and always ended with them drifting away.
I didn't mind.
I went into high school with a slight above-average grade, and my Ma still worried about my lack of a social life.
It was then that I figured myself out; why I always seemed to avoid having friends. I had this strange, ingrained habit to distance myself from people, so that I won't be a burden to others. I have been doing this since I was an infant, with my subconsciousness telling me to stop needing so much. That way, I won't be a burden. Whether it be to my Ma, or to others that tried to be my friend.
I also figured out that acting that way made Ma worry more.
So, I made it my mission, my goal, to get a social life. To stop Ma from worrying.
Problem is: I have no social skills to speak of, and the people around me have stapled me with the label of the quiet kid that has no good reason to be their friend.
Thankfully, high school has some kind of place for everyone, even odd ones like me.
You know how in a school cafeteria, there are usually the cliques occupying certain areas? With the football team usually being together, the people who come from the drama class, and then the normal people? They have one more group that seems to fit me to a tee.
The group of people with their own problems. Small, annoying problems, but still problems. There is a saying that misery loves company, and my social skills were miserable, so I just sat down with the small group. After that, I introduced myself, and jokingly mentioned - read: tried to joke about - my missing social life.
Predictably, I was seen as weird among other weirdos. But somehow, I just... melded into their group. Not immediately, mind you. It still took a while, but it did happen.
Eventually, I mentioned the group – an entire group, not just singular – to my mother, and she looked at me as if I suddenly grew another head. Then she smiled a crooked smile, the very same one that I have, and said that I did good.
That moment was one of the most relieving ones that I ever had.
And then things went downhill very quickly.
My Ma used to smoke, once upon a time, and quit cold-turkey when she found out that she was pregnant with me. She never returned to it, but she always kept her lighter on her person: a shiny stainless steel flip lighter, with a design of a bird in black. A phoenix, she told me.
Apparently, her earlier years of smoking caught up to her. She was diagnosed with lung cancer.
She was given treatment, and she fought for as long as possible, but couldn't win.
It was on her death bed, in the hospital, when she gave me her lighter, and told me it was for her little light.
It wasn't until a week later when my friends found that I was alone.
One of them managed to convince their parents to take me in, and I both hated that I was becoming a burden and was so, so thankful that I wasn't alone.
It was after I moved on to my Senior year, just out of Junior year, that my friends suggested a camp-out to the local forest/park during our summer break.
It was a nice way of them to show that they cared, and I didn't complain, because it helped fill that part of me that was missing. We didn't check the weather for the few days that we were going to spend there, for we were just energized to get out of the town and just hang out for a while. Just us against the world.
And then the world hit back.
It was on the night of the second day, that it turned out that there was currently a forest fire, and it blocked us in. We woke up to one of us going out to relieve themselves and finding that the world looked like it was on fire. We had no cell reception, so we couldn't call for help.
The third day was spent trying to find a way out, and then realizing that we had no way out. One of us broke down crying when we all came to the same conclusion.
On the fourth day, the fire was so close to us, when a rescue helicopter found us. It was like a scene from a movie, where we get rescued at the last second, and then we all get to live happily ever after.
And then a tree – a fucking tree – fell down on top of me. I somehow managed to survive the impact and stay conscious. My friends all freaked when they saw this, and they tried to get the tree off of me, but it was on fire, and they couldn't risk trying to get it off without catching fire themselves. The friend who took me into their home, Thomas, tried to keep pushing, despite everyone else giving up.
Thomas was the one friend that connected to me the most, and it wasn't long ago that I found out that he lost a little brother. They both locked themselves in an old car, and they weren't found until four hot summer hours later that they were found. His brother had a heat stroke and died while still in the car, and it was a miracle that Thomas survived.
I guess, since he was a year older than me, he didn't want to lose his younger brother figure. He didn't want to lose another little brother.
I managed to muster up the strength to tell him to leave, that I would just be a burden. It wasn't until another minute that he stopped, and looked at me. I cracked a crooked smile, one just like my Ma's, and told him it would be alright.
He broke down right then and there, and one of the others took him and guided him back to the helicopter.
I passed out as the helicopter was lifting off, surrounded by fire, alone, without burdening anyone and getting themselves killed for me.
I thought it would be the end.
No more being a burden.
I didn't expect to be deus ex machina'd into a white void.
Everywhere I look, it's nothing but white, white, and oh look, more white!
I showed up here not too long ago, and so far the only thing occupying the space was myself, still in my gray shirt and brown cargo shorts. At first, I had a bit of mindless fun with the actual weightlessness that is in the void, but that got nauseating after a while.
How the hell am I getting nauseated, anyways? Aren't I supposed to be dead? Do dead people still get motion sickness in the afterlife?
I cross my arms as I complete another revolution.
…
I get the feeling that someone was supposed to be here by now.
"HEY! Whoever you are that sent me here, you forgot something!" My voice doesn't even echo in the space, just ending whenever I stopped shouting.
I wait a second, then the second turned to ten, then a minute.
"Whatever, it's not like someone of cosmic proportions can be late, anyways." I grumble, doing another slow somersault in the blankness.
...Now that I look around, this place seems awfully familiar. Like I've seen someone in the same position as mine. But no matter how hard I think about it, it seems like the answer escapes me.
Meh, this being alone thing is not exactly healthy, seeing that I'm being snarky at literally nothing. I just wish that something would just happen alrea-
"Ah, there you are, Micheal. And I see you are already awake, too," an ominous, dark voice says from behind me.
"FINALLY!" I throw my hands up in the air, rotating around slowly in the nothingness to face the speaker. "Don't you know how long I... was..."
...what.
In front of me, towering over me by many times my height, is Death.
But not just any Death. I know this one.
Clad in a tattered black cloak, with skeletal hands and a flaming dragon-like skull, is that Death.
The Death from the web-comic Slightly Damned.
What?
"...waiting?" I finished weakly.
Death is now glaring his one eye at me.
...That's not good.
A/N: So here is the prologue to 'Hell Hath No Snark'. Hope you guys like it, and can't wait for the next one. I would probably not have some kind of upload schedule, seeing how this is just a hobby of mine. Maybe. Depends on whether or not I can continue with this story. Anyways, reviews would always be nice, and have a good rest of your morning/noon/evening/night.