AfterBlood: A Berserk Fanfic
A/N: Hello everyone! This is HarlequinMage at your service! I used to be on here on a different name…;; but I forgot my password and my old email, so I just made a new account. I've done fanfics before, but I've usually been shunned because of them, but now I have improved so much,that I got back onto my feet! (I haven't done fanfics for almost 3 years now ') I just recently watched Berserk, and it was soooooooooooooooo awesome! But it was so—er…I shouldn't spoil it…' But then again, my fic is a bit spoilerish. This is a sequel that I made to the original series…and I warn some of you…it's a bit yaoish…well…more like shounen-ai…gasp! Did she say 'shounen-ai!' (lol…I usually prefer yaoi better…but this is the first time I preferred to do a shounen-ai fic…'). Well all, enjoy!
The fateful day of the demons. That was when the world was covered in endless darkness. Everywhere one went, the souls of the dead would be stepped on and shamed upon. Gutswas left with almost nothing. Ricket, Judeau, Pippin, Corkus, Caska…all those names screamed through Guts' head as he saw each of them die, one by one. Then, what seemed to be a roar of laughter, Griffith…Guts' most trusted friend sold his soul to the Devil and became one of them, the charlatan guardian angels.
"Guts…" Griffith said as he dropped the dead and naked Caska on the blood-scattered floor. Guts was pinned down onto his stomach by sickening demons of many shapes and sizes. The monstrosities were grinning and licking their lips with greedy elongated tongues, wanting to grab at the human's flesh to satisfy their hunger. Griffith walked over to the defenseless human and grabbed his chin firmly in his palm. "Guts…what made you think that you could save me or anybody? Especially with that severed arm of yours?..." the pale-faced demon questioned as he moved his face closer to the other's. Guts responded with a growl of wrath and anguish as he helplessly writhed around in Griffith's grasp. The demon shook his head in dissatisfaction. "It would be more honorable to die right here, right now, but I'll let you live…alone in pain and melancholy." Griffith pronounced and then clamped his lips onto Guts and the human fell unconscious…
That was then. Three years after the death of his comrades and the loss of his closest companion, Guts, continued living as Griffith vowed with his last words with him. Demons still roamed the earth for the Behelit, the Egg of the King, was always passed down into unwary hands, but Guts felt it was his duty to annihilate those who turned into demons. After his quest to find a particular snake demon, he got his hands on the Behelit and kept it with him so that no other could be tempted by its power. Guts was fortunately strong enough to resist it.
In the country of Perringrad, a country far from Midland, where Guts and the Band of the Hawk resided for several year, Guts stayed in an inn for a few nights. The man was sitting on his bed thinking of ways to destroy the Behelit, and tried everything. He tried with his sword, he tried it in the fire, and he even tried to bite it, but nothing worked. Guts sighed and laid down on the length of his mattress and closed his eyes. He hoped to fall asleep quickly so that he could not think about his past. The past was the worst to relive.
The night was cold and silent, with only subtle crickets and frogs chirruping and croaking. Guts was wriggling in his sleep, sweating all over. It started all over again. His past was racing through his mind again. His friends dying again, Griffith turning evil again, and him living…still.
"Guts…"
He could hear Griffith's evil whisper in his head. "G-Griffith!" Guts whimpered and curled up in his sleep.
The next morning, Guts left the inn and went for a tavern that was right across the paved road. The man sat in a seat near the counter and ordered a pint of water. Beer was not his kind of flavor. As Guts was drinking, he observed a bit of the room and saw the regulars of the tavern: gamblers, pimps, and the outright drunk. Guts turned his head back to the counter and saw something very unusually familiar. "Geoffred's whiskey is coming up!" one of the waiter's said as he went to pour some whiskey in a cup. Guts stared. This waiter…he had pure white hair with a purple tint and dark almond eyes…but that was not the main idea…this waiter looked just like…Griffith… "Here you go sir!" the young waiter said, giving the pint to a customer. Guts didn't take his eyes off of him.
"Um, sir…may I help you?..." the waiter asked, for he noticed the other man staring at him. Guts froze and was dumbfounded. "O-Oh no…" he replied and ducked his head down low again. "The resemblance is strikingly similar…" Guts thought to himself and bit his lip.
"So how's it going, Marcus? Catch any gals lately?" one of the regulars asked the waiter. He responded. "N-No…just men…as usual…" he muttered and blushed timidly. The one who spoke to him laughed as well as others and said, "That's our Marcus! Heh heh, you're awesome!" These men where fucking psychos. Guts tried to ignore that. So…Marcus was the waiter's name…Guts had one more chance to stare at Marcus again before he left.
It was bothering him that this waiter looked exactly like Griffith…Was it a relative of his? Or was it just mere coincidence? Guts shook his head and returned to the inn and rested himself again. Oddly enough, the man didn't not have any sort of nightmares nor dreams, just a nice bit of rest.
After a good night's sleep, Guts went back to the tavern to see if Marcus was on his working hour. But as he entered he saw…
TO BE CONTINUED…