The Darkness Begins as the Night Sets in and the Moon rises

READ, REVIEW AND VOTE

This is an acceptance from Psychotic Addiction's challenge which I will find very enjoyable to write. However I do wish that my readers do four things as they read my stories.

Private Message me to continue the story if you think the wait is too long. It gives me motivation to continue my work. You can also message me about OC characters you would like to add, tactics that can improve it or simply direct me to similar works.

Reviewing would be nice as my stories tend to get only one or two review per chapter. It doesn't have to be much, just a sentence or two.

Tell me when I'm deviating from the challenge or making the story a copyright of another piece since I am taking inspiration from several popular fictional and non-fictional works. Remember though. This is my original idea so don't hate.

Take inspiration from my story to make your own work following Addiction's challenge as he is correct. There isn't enough stories like those out there.

Thank you for reading and enjoy.

A moon is a celestrial object that can make moonlight. However Moonlight is not actual light but a reflection of sunlight. In this case the moon does not produce its own light but merely a reflection of such. Just as every person's action is not deliberate but an aftershock and reflection of the flaws and imperfections of society.

Prologue:

Today is just another day in my very mundane, miserable life. The weather seems to reflect my general mood. There a cloudy overcast with the occasional drizzle but not a Thunderstorm. It's April and as expected in Toronto there is rain and lots of it. Not now but probably later in the season.

April 30th was today's date. One month exactly from my birthday.

Not like birthday's were ever fun though. In fact the opposite. My birthdays were miserable. Beatdowns, taunts about my size, petty betrayals, my heart shattered and broken by a school crush and that's just at school.

At night the streets became very dangerous. No one in my neighbourhood in the right mind walked them altogether after sunset. Well, unless you were one of them that is.

Two years ago I made the mistake of staying out past sunset and was stabbed for my shortcoming. The gangs run this part of the city and they always have a "special surprise" for birthday kids. Said surprises tended to be broken windows, smashed cars and the occasional bonfire with your house.

I don't have the worst of it by far from what I've learned but when your house is egged every season and your garbage cans destroyed it creates an atmosphere of misery.

It wasn't always like this though. My family, the three of us, used to be a normal one. I would go to school as my parents went to work go good grades and went to the babysitter before being picked up by my parents. We used to be a normal, somewhat unambitious family.

Then my father made the wrong decision of buying a house after my sister was born. It would have been bad with that alone. However he had chosen the second worst neighbourhood to live in without researching beforehand.

The place had looked innocent enough had a nearby school and train station. But the price seemed "off". Different than the other houses we had visited. It was too cheap in my opinion. None of the others had such a low price.

However it was because of the price that my father bought the house.

That was the one decision that had ruined our lives. My younger sister had just been born. As a result I had to leave school immediately to picker her up leaving little room for friendship. While other kids were out playing sports or joining clubs I was home babysitting. And it was something I had grown to hate.

I learned quickly that things were never what they seemed.

After our house started displaying problems I started distrusting a lot of the things around me. So when a rich kid named Peter offered ma a place to join his "crew" I was immediately suspicious.

Turns out my suspicions had been correct. Peter's crew was one of the minor hoodlums, later gangs that controlled the area. This was five years ago. Now he runs the neighbourhood and claims the poor side of the bridge as his turf. The reason why the authorities did nothing was because his grandparents were millionaires and were very well connected to the cream of society. It basically allowed him and his friends to get away with almost anything.

I initially refused to join because I didn't want to get tangled in any of his mess. Something that bastard made me pay for refusing. You see Peter could get away with anything but anything drastic and the cops would have to stop looking the other way and start investigating. If they did that then a lot of corruption would become recognizable and it means a loss of face which translated into a loss of funding.

So Peter made my life miserable.

My school life, social life and home life.

He destroyed and sabotaged my education. By using the principal, a family friend, Peter made the teachers and rest of the staff turn a blind eye to the bullying and like a normal kid I thought that ignoring it or talking it out would make it go away. It didn't.

The teachers themselves sabotaged my work saying I never handed anything in rod reduced my grades. By the time the Principal changed it had become a habit to never associate with me for any of the teachers, old or new.

Then he destroyed my social life. Peter made sure that there was always something to keep me going as a suicide would no doubt draw suspicion. He was wrong. I didn't need anyone to not commit suicide other than myself. After all is life not worth living even for a few moments?

Peter knew this. Nevertheless he had his crew scar away any friends I could have made. No matter how hard I tried nothing worked. Everyone left me.

They he destroyed my home life. My father, a substitute teacher, had difficulty finding work which led to him taking it out on me. He didn't physically abuse me expect once where he hit me on the top of my head with a plate.

However everything else seemed to be fair game to him. He mentally belittled me, degraded my confidence and was never satisfied with my accomplishments. All because he believed that he was worthy of money because of a degree.

He's wrong. A degree helps but it is ultimately up to how you act to earn what you want.

He didn't understand that and blamed me. Refusing to find ways to solve problems he turned his anger on me.

I admit that I fell into Peter's trap and spiralled down a cycle of self-destruction. I became disruptive in class to gain attention, acted clingy for any form of a friendship. It was why my "friends" left me. I stayed away from home as long as possible because I was tired of doing the insane thing which was confronting the issue over and over again, expecting different results.

My life was miserable.

Eventually Peter stopped involving his crew and himself, content to simply watch as I slowly destroyed an chance of a happy life. It was only my days just before high-school did I realize his plan and much I regretted not taking his offer.

Or plunging a knife into his throat the first day I arrived to this hell hole.

This world was truly twisted.

Over the past 18 months I tried to change3 my habits and behaviour, but as the old saying oges, old habits die hard. It was only then did I realize how much of my life was taken away from me and that I was going to kill Peter and his friends one day.

I walked into the school building not minding how everyone either ignored or reacted negatively to me. Can't really blame them. I was douche for nearly an entire year before I finally wised up. In my opinion I improve my image from hopeless loser to time bomb.

I always got into fights. Well not always but at least once a month.

I hate people. Well not everyone. I have a handful of colleagues and a fewer amount of people I call friends. It wasn't easy earning their friendship. In fact the number of people I could consider friends could be counted on one hand. Not much but it is certainly better then elementary school where everyone hated me.

I spy one of my collegues Saju. Saju is a 16 year old Hindu girl. She's down the hallway and gives me a little way which I return. Yes I have a little crush on her but I know how to conceal my feelings better than I did in elementary school. I won't be a good idea to drag her down with me.

A few guys bump into me causing me to stumble. In annoyance I turn to them on my left side. The same side I was stabbed on.

I notice that Saju had already left for class. Now I turn my full attention to my assailents. It's Ijithan, one of the Sri Lankan/ tamil kids that make up the large population of Juniors in this high school.

Him and his pals smile at each other as they enjoy my quick flash of pain. Lime me Ijithan came from the poor side fo the creek.

I glare at him for a few seconds, clenching my fists before releasing them and look way.

Coward

I could feel the group grinning at their small victory before moving on.

Unlike me Ijithan had fully accepted and integrated himself into this life. IN my opinion that is. I can be wrong.

Like many of the kids from the poor side of the bridge he drinks, smokes and spends his nights doing whatever he wants. However Ijithan is more than that. Like me he wants to escape this hell hole, just not the same way. Ijithan is a people's person.

It was extraordinary in my opinion. It was also why he hadn't dropped out yet, like most of the kids from my scho9ol and why he had such high grades.

Whereas I had to do everything by myself, Ijithan had all the support in the world.

I brushed my thoughts about him aside as I entered the classroom. He knew that I was a time bomb from the black eye I gave him a month ago. For my troubles I had a bloody lip, a couple of loose teeth and a concussion.

XXX

Deep in the confines of the warp a portal slowly opened crumbling the walls of the realms of each Chaos god.

None of the paid any heed to these portals. For while they opened to alternative realities the gap between them and the warp was unstable at best. It required at least the blessing of a chaos champion if not the Chaos gods themselves to traverse through these nearly impossible to reach worlds.

That said, once the portal closed the influence of the gods on the minds were greatly weakened. If that occurred the chaos gods could lose a ridiculous amount of followers for little gain.

As a result the portal was ignored. Even so the portal grew larger.

XXX

Today's history/Civics class was as interesting as possible. I had already memorized all the interesting facts such as how John A. Mcdonald used the Manitoba revolt to improve his bill for his railway. In fact I had begun looking at American history for its "diversity". Theirs was like a labyrinth, a paradox and a web of contradictions and misinterpretations.

And that was appealed to me. You understand could only go so far. Experience however would take me farther. I wanted to feel the power of those who "wrote" history yet I can't. I'm too weak, too cowardly and too stable. I needed power, madness and chains of fear to spread my history.

I shake myself from my thoughts.

"And that is why the First Nations People hate the whites," explained my teacher with hand gestures.

"They fought and fought but lost and always got the worst end of the stick,"

I liked my history teacher. While she was a mediocre teacher, Geral was a brilliant presenter. Even the most boring of lessons were interesting with her. Nevertheless the bell rang causing uproar of footsteps and echoes of teenagers putting their books in their bags.

I stayed a little to ponder my last thought. Most people were either excellent at advertising or at their work but never both. Was that the secret to making history? Doing both?

I didn't have time to think my thoughts more thoroughly since I had to get to music which was on the other side of the school. Finding the studio and getting there after going through the hallways was always a daily hassle but something I had come to live with. I didn't receive that much of a reaction from the school, since everyone else was either talking to friends, ditching or going to class. Sometimes a combination of them.

I heard an argument occur a few lockers from where I was walking but ignored it. Probably a couple arguing with each other. Stuff like this happens almost every day. The guy thinks the girl is too bossy and the girl thinks the guy isn't paying enough attention to here.

It's usually yelling but almost every other week a fight occurs and it's up to the staff to break it up. If this is one of the best schools in Toronto, I'd hate to see the worst. But I can't judge anyone. I've been in ten fights since I arrived here outside of school, which is far more common. I only won my first fight because Ijithan had underestimated me. I had him in a chokehold until his friends got me off him. After that I got my ass kicked no matter what I did.

I've fought a few different guys sometimes where I was at an advantage, sometimes outnumbered. My worst fight was one where I was outnumbered six to one and on of the guys had a gun.

This was a few months ago before my grades started slipping and I started getting into fights more often. When I was being mugged one of the guys pulled a gun on me. Quickly I had disarmed him and while he and his pals had been fumbling turned the tables.

There was one thing I didn't consider there though.

"Do it. I dare you," smirked the bastard.

I pulled his bluff and the trigger. Nothing. No ear splitting pain, no recoil and certainly no one screaming in pain from bullet wounds.

The gun hadn't been loaded. By the time the though had crossed my mind I was tackled to the ground and being kicked by his connies. My ribs still hurt from that incident.

But I got even with one of them. I had pulled my knife on one and slashed the muscles of his legs, most likely his left. Once they saw their friend bleeding the other five ran.

That's what humanity is. We build and create new ideas to succeed but the moment something goes wrong we run.

Why didn't I report this to the police or told anyone? Simple.

A few months back my dad had gotten shot during a mugging as three punks stole his wallet in public. They took everything. However the punks were two things. Stupid and lucky. Stupid with the fact that they had shot my dad in broad daylight in front of at least four people.

Lucky as this was Toronto. As a city we're advanced and ahead of Americans in certain fields. But not in security. Even with a full description the police still haven't found them. Goes to show how incompetent Toronto's finest are.

I enter the classroom before sitting on the chairs around the large circular tables. Each table has four or five chairs. People tended to congregate with their friends. My table on the other hand was filled with teenagers that were "different" so tot say.

None of us shared anything except for the fact that we are "different". We didn't act like everyone else because we saw the world and society, we found ourselves locked up in, as it was. Some of us joined a gang, one of us spent our days alone, one took completely alone with our family and the other has mood swings from promising to never give up to the being in the pits of hopeless despair.

Guess which one is which.

I had taken solace in the fact that I was met for bigger things but this world seemed so bleak for me as a poor kid. As a member of the underclass you don't grow up with a lot of positive influences, role models or hope.

The other class mates entered happily, in slight frustration, misery or a combination of everything else. I felt a spike of hate form from within me as I looked at a lll the naïve fools that lived happily while I suffered. Even with the uniforms one could distinguish the rich from the poor.

The ones from my neighbourhood slouched slightly, had rings around their eyes and looks less cultured from all the problems in their area. Honestly, the only reason people lived on that side of the bridge was because it was a good place to either vanish from society without much investigation and attention or because of the cheap housing prices.

I mean you could buy a five bedroom house on the corner with three washrooms, two kitchens and an attic for only $300,000.

On the other hand, the out of area and "rich" kids held themselves in slight confidence and were far more positive in their emotions. That's to be expected. None of them have to live like we did. Half the kids from my area dropped out a few years ago. Not completely unexpected.

With a neighbourhood like that dropouts were expected. No doubt most of them either work in the family business, become pimps and whores or if they are lucky, find work in the factories.

I sighed just as the teacher entered. I wanted to escape this hellhole so badly.

XXX

One again the portal appeared but this time something strange occurred. While the first portal was fairly large, enough to fit a small child and transport it across world this newer and large portal had enough energy to send a lesser daemon to any world.'

However it wasn't just this that made the portal unique. Slowly, the portal became more and larger before splitting into two human sized portals once again.

Another thing that made this portal unique was the fact that it touched the realms of two major chaos gods instead of chaos undivided. Strangely it was also the realms of the two chaos gods respective realms met.

The portal led to from one destination to another.

In one reality the warp could not sustain itself in anything but the most minor of forms. However its inhabitants didn't need the warp to demonstrate their ability to represent it. The first was Jetlix's world and it intrigued a Slaanesh daemon who had been passing by.

On the other end of the spectrum there was a world filled with magic ripe for the picking for the changer of ways. This world was one which was brought to the attention of a Daemon of Tzeentch, who liked all Tzeentch's daemons had an increased perception to things occurring around themselves.

Unfortunately the bridge between the two worlds, with the warp as its medium, was unstable/ Only the most lowliest and weakest of worshipers of chaos could pass through it unscratched. To send someone through would require one of two things.

One was that they be untouched by chaos in the beginning and be fostered by the warp once they reached the said world.

The other possibility was to strengthen the gap between the worlds an send themselves into realspace. Unfortunately such energy requirements were enormous and would require nothing short of a Chaos Champion or quite possibly a Chaos god to deem fitting results.

But alas the Tzeentch daemon who had discovered it could do nothing but watch and stare hungrily.

That was before a plea for help arrived from the first world to any being who would answer. The plea itself would band the three "unique" individuals into an unlikely alliance where they would prosper and wreak havoc on all the worlds connected to the warp and beyond.

XXX

Let me kill you

Tear you and break you

Bind and blind don't matter not

For with me you can escape society rot

Eve and two and you may never know

But let me tell you what you should not for sow

The blessing of the chaos gods few ever know.

I blinked at the thoughts and poem in my head. Where di that come from I hear laughing which prevents me from thinking of that poem.

The two people I am beginning to hate more and more. Sarose and Jiri. Sarose is a shopkeeper's son who is very connected to several corrupt politicians. It was how his parents were able to afford a three story house and drive a new Toyata, which I knew of. His uncles probably had blackmail material on almost everyone explaining why he could mesh into a group very easily and hate me. I had nothing to hid. Or it might be because he's just that popular and everybody hates me. Either way, Sarose was a playboy and won the hearts and minds of half the girls in our class.

The there was Jiri. The first time I had met her in 7th grade I was hoping to stya friend with her or more. But like Safiaa the two of us drifted apart. After I was publically humiliated by the guys in my class when I asked her out I turned to Jiri for help. That bitch just laughed and did little to comfort me. Now that should have been what should have taught me something. But like Naruto, who is a stupid character and a horrible anime, I clung to false hope and tried harder.

Now our "friendship" has blown up in my face as the bitch laught at me. I knew she wasn't my friend but I held on to the false hope that we could be civil to one another as we held on to false personas. I am such an idiot.

"So you like music," the bitch mocked.

Sarose joined in with her.

A few minutes ago I had gotten carried away in the moment listening to various pieces of music I had come to enjoy. My taste in music was delectable and when I found myself listening to a beautiful piece of music I tended to get slightly carried away

Sarose taped his fingers on is desk uncaringly obviously trying to mimic my piano movements. He doesn't know a thing about pianos.

Nevertheless his actions infuriated me. Many other people took it upon themselves to mock me now, most notably Mahd and Ijithan who shared three classes with me.

"How's your sister? Oh how's your sister?" mocked Mahd continuously..

Fuck he's making it easy.

I knew that while I could fight Mahd it would be ten seconds be I either lost, pulled out that knife I carried or gave up.

None of those options seemed appealing to me.

"Hey Jetlix, want to know what happened to your m-"

I tuned the rest of Ijithan out. I knew what was coming. A mother joke where he made fun of someone's mother. They got old quickly but were meant for three things; TO force the person to lash out for little reason, to seeth like I did or make someone shut up.

For me seething was the only option. I got into fights after and outside of school. By that time my rage had died down and I took my leftover adrenaline on the internet. My eyes had payed the price.

The taunting seemed to go on for hours as Mr. Gladworld just ignored it in his office. The man was a horrible teacher but he had made the effort in beginning and was always fair. After a few weeks he had given up though.

I tried to block out the taunts like I had done for years yet somehow they kept coming. Adults like when they say that ignoring something makes it better. It only makes it worse because ignoring and pacifying yourself makes you seem weak and thus an easy target.

I had bottle in my emotions for years. But today had been bad. Worse than normal. I had run to the school late, been lectured by the hall monitors, bullied by my science teacher, my former and current group mates, nearly failed my computer engineering class and had nearly been poisoned by my mother's substandard cooking.

Today was not my day.

Funny thing about human psychology. People try to control their emotions by bottling it up and hoping it goes away when it only festers. And when something is festering and boling all it takes is a little spark to start the fire.

"Will any girl ever-" taunts Jiri.

That's it. I have had it with this world. Fuck it! Fuck all of it!

We are nothing but tools and are fools to not see it. That's why we have friends and family. So that we can use each other to meet our goals. So when a stool doesn't work to your digression you don't sympathize with it.

You dispose it.

I grab my chair as I rise up. They're still laughing thinking I'm bluffing. I'm not. I smash my chair on Sarose head before he could react. I smash his face several times against the slowly destroyed chair. By now everyone has stopped laughing in shock at the scene. I don't let them get over it as I further horrify my classmates.

Using the legs of the chair I impale Sarose. Lifting the chair up one more time I let the legs pierce through his body. It only goes down one inch as the tip isn't sharpened and not appropriate for killing people. However it still completes its task. I hear a sickening crunch.

His ribcage has failed as blood leaks out from the wounds. I twist with some effort. It's not easy as the chair lacks a handle appropriate for this task. However the legs complete their task. The twitching stops as Sarose spurts out globs of blood from his mouth.

But my mork isn't complete. By now the shock has worn off across the class. It is demonstrated as Mahd and Ijithan slowly get up warily and get into fighting stances no doubt ready in case I attack either of them. Obviously they've never seen someone murdered in front of them. I have however. Sarose is alive but unless someone helps him in the next minute or so he won't be.

I don't care though. Someone else needs to die today. I quickly turn by body before dashing to Jiri, grabbing my metal pen off the table. I can forgive and enemy but never a traitor. Jiri betrayed me and for that she deserves to die.

By now Jiri has noticed my course of action. However it is too late. I was already in arms reach of her by now. That bitch tried to run away or push me way but for gets one tings.

I'm a rugby player.

Not the best kind I will tell you In fact you could very easily say I'm the worst on the team and it would be true. However the fact remains that rugby taught me a few moves.

I tackle Jiri to the ground. The two of use tumble to the ground together since I overpowered by ruby tackle. I quickly right myself up. I position my knees over her elbows locking her arms in place, her ample bosom being nearby crotch. Any other day and this would have been a position I would have fantasized over.

Not today though.

She ties to break free of my hold. It is difficult I admit. As a soccer player Jiri is very agile and energetic. Especially from what Micheal tell me. However there are two reasons why I defeated her. My male biology allows me to be stronger than her by default.

Then there was my upbrining. Jiri has lived on the rich side of two where everything is peaceful. Me on the other not so much. While I am weak compared to the other kids in my neighbourhood my rugby training has started to counteract that. In fact had my rugby training gone on for a month longer I pretty sure that all the years of abuse and inactivity would have washed out.

I click my pen out with one hand while using the other to hold her steady. By now Jiri is flailing, trying to get out. Unfortunately for her, her fate is sealed.

I plunge my pen into her left eye forcing it through the soft flesh. Jiri frails for a second before her body slumps twitching occasionally. I dug the pen an inch deeper coating my entire hand and wrist in blood.

Blood continues ot spurt out of her left eye as I hoist the pen up. I feel some difficulty at first before hearing a snap. The pen broke. I relinquish my hold on the pen before standing up. Blood coats my face and clothes but I don't care.

In less than 15 seconds I have murdered two of my classmates.

Even with the scratch marks the bitch inflicted upon me I feel no pain. Must be the adrenaline. Whatever it Is I don't care. I scan my surroundings. My classmates are now hyperventilating and two of them seem prepared to vomit.

Weaklings. I was four when I saw a bunch of people murdered in Bangladesh over some racial issue. I didn't bat an eyelid back then. Of course it wasn't until five years later did I understand what happened. But the again I can't blame my classmates. Now one here has seen someone die in front of them. My class mates stare at me in shock.

Double homicide.

The crime that was committed in front of them.

Even Mr. Galdworld was cowering before me. The paralysed man had probably just entered the studio expecting some trouble and found two bodies and a his favourite pen, which he had lent me, broken. It was a very nice pen too.

No one moves a muscle. The bodies begin decaying with flies landing on them. Might as well leave.

I stare at the class one last time before I walked out of the studio.

I guess I finally stopped lying to myself.

XXX

When I was six years old my father had once comforted me as I cried. I had come home with a cut on my arm from playing soccer. My father had gotten off his computer and have me proper treatment. I remember yelling at me about soccer.

"I can't play soccer! Everybody makes fun of me and it hurts too much!" I shouted to him as loudly as I could.

My father merely smiled at me.

"Jetlix, you'll always get hurt. It's all about growing up. How else are you going to be a big FIFA soccer player one day?"

I used to idolize my father back then and hung onto every word he said. So like a good little boy I smiled and yelled at the top of my lungs that I was going to be strong too one day. It's because of that speech that I play soccer every day.

I do it out of habit even now.

I used to love my dad but now I seem him as everything I had in humanity. I grew up and accepted any pain that came my way, never forgetting what my dad had installed in my life that day. I was too young to understand back than but now I understand what he truly meant. You only get stronger through pain.

It's funny. That was one of the last happy moments I had with my dad.

XXX

I couldn't contemplate my thoughts any longer before I vaulted over a white fence in a random suburb I found myself in. I had seen a beam of light and thinking it was a the cops, scrammed. Turns out it had been a passing bike. Still I'm being a little careful. I continued to walk down the street aimlessly. It's 11:21 according to my watch. 10 hours since I had killed Jiri and Sarose. Ten hours of being hunted by police and here I am on this highway in the middle of nowhere.

Jiri was the younger sister of a police Inspector, who had probably earned his position Through hard work and skill. I had met the guy once and he was okay in my book, unlike several of the people I knew of. I liked the man. Now he's probably leading the largest scale manhunt in the city.

Can't say I blame him. I sigh in understanding as the rain drizzles onto my uniform washing most of the blood away. Yet I can't seem to regret my decision. As I keep walking down the street I realize that this was probably for the best. I can still rebuild my life if I ever get out of prison. Otherwise I'm pretty sure I would have cracked years later and killed more than just two people. This probably was for the best.

Oh who the hell am I kidding?!

The rain starts to increase the more I walk. Soon I'm running as fast as I can to the nearest house. Must be at least five miles out of the city by now Soaking wet I notice a church up ahead and enter it.

My sneakers squeak on the cold, hard marble of the church. I feel a sense of Déjà vu. Soaking wet I still can't deny how… glad I feel. Contrary to popular belief I am not a terrorist nor extremist muslim.

I'm a Christian who abandoned his fate years ago. For example I come to church whenever I feel like it because of the welcoming atmosphere. Its better than the droning of the Imans whenever I celebrate Ramadan.

It's not that I hate my religion but a combination of attitudes of muslim kids, racism, restrictions and simple social taboo after the 9/11 attack has made me turn to a more open-minded faith It's because of this faith that my life has improved over the past year. I've even talked a few times here without my parents knowing.

Not today. I slipped into the rows of wooden seats before the stage and prayed for guidance. Today I truly needed it. My life had turned into a mess in 24 hours and I faintly hoped my prayers would be answered if faintly.

Forgive me for I have sinned.

I clasped my hands together hoping for an answer and praying.

I have murdered on of my fellow brothers and sisters no matter what their faith and sins were. No matter what they have done I have killed them and today I am praying for guidance and assurance. Assurance that I will not suffer. If there is a god, any god I hope they answer my prayer and guide me.

By the end of the prayer I was begging for help. But there is an old saying.

Desperation only attracts vultures.

For when you stare and shout at the abyss too long, the abyss looks back answering in glee.

XXX

The portal shone brightly in the warp whether by coincidence or fate. However one thing was certain the abyss noticed. In the realm of the lord of change a lesser daemon noticed the shining portal and mortal ripe for the picking.

At the same time in the palace of Slaanesh another lesser daemon, much more powerful, felt the pain of a soul nearby begging for help. The soul was praying in a church. How interesting.

While the mortal wasn't that special he was definitely ripe for the picking. And at another world at that. Yes, this mortal will do just fine and the rewards of ecstasy delivered by the prince of pleasure itself will be incalculable.

Yes he shall get the mortal and answer its prayers.

However something caused both daemons to be shocked; meeting each other.

XXX

The first to find the portal to this new dimension was the Tzeentch Daemon. At nearly 10 feet in height the daemon was larger than any mortal man. With blue feathers and obviously avian features the daemon looked exactly like a lord of change except for two things.

The first was its hundreds of eyes which appeared and disappeared at random parts of its surface and the Warp energy, visibly coursing through its leathery wings.

However nothing could prepare it for the arrival of another, much more powerful, Daemon and sorcerer. At nearly 10 meters, the Slaanesh daemon was a sight to behold. Centuries of service with the Prince of pleasure had taken its awe-inspiring toll.

The outline of the daemon gave it the appearance of a large minotaur at a glance. However this wasn't the case. Instead of flesh the entire body of the daemon was covered in chains, prodding spikes and the still living mortals imbedded around and covering its entire body. Silent screams of terror and pain deafened by the moaning echoes of the different mortals filled the air. The blue daemon recognized several dark eldars, humans, orks and dozens of other species of the Milky Way galaxy embedded on the skin of the lesser daemon.

While it did look vaguely like a Minotaur the Avian one knew better. There was easily 4 arms embedded in the body of the daemon hidden in plain sight and just waiting for its pry.

Two arms were shaped of a man's, two of a slithery mortal serpent and the last two were that of a grand arachnid prodding for its next meal.

The souls and the bodies of the mortals tried to escape to no avail, for its all-knowing torturer saw all and plucked them back with tis warp powers. The Minotaur shaped Daemon shuddered in pleasure no doubt feasting on the pain and false hope of its unfortunate victim which foolishly believed in escape.

For the first time in a long time the daemon of Tzeentch was truly glad it served the chaos god it worshiped. Otherwise it feared its own sanity. Truly mortals were foolish to be coaxed by this god if this was a sample of its avatar.

Hoping to avoid a fight the Tzeentch daemon bowed before its superior.

"How about we make a deal?"

It would take every ounce of the Daemon's charisma to not run and seal its fate forever.

XXX

A wind blew across the church putting out the candles in the room and filling it with darkness. Despite the cold breeze that had assaulted me just a minute ago I couldn't help but feel hopeful.

Partially because I hoped that someone had answered my prayers or most likely hoping this would end. I was right on both accounts.

Step. Step. Step.

I heard a man stepping into the rows around me filling it with light. Not the holy light. Just a light that made me feel wary and slightly shudder.

"Watcha doing here boy at this hour?" asked the man not bothering to stop.

He kept on walking towards me with a care in the world. Instinctingly I went into a fighting stance before loosening up. This was the house of god. No one fought in here.

"Nothing much. Just praying," I answered hoping he wouldn't press the subject.

The universe hated me, for he did.

"Really, and why would a terrorist like you pray in the house of the lord?"

The terrorist comment hit me hard. I wanted to scream at him, yell, punch him or something. Yet I held it in just like I did so years ago and have done.

"I never said I was a terrorist," I replied evenly.

"You never said you weren't," smirked the man from what I could see from his face.

By now I could smell him. His odour was disgusting. He reeked of alcohol and dirt. Maybe something more.

A bum from what I gathered.

I slowly decided to leave before things went bad and the cops added one more crime to my name.

However I didn't take two steps before the man pulled out a gun.

I tensed at the sight. Shit. Why does this happen to me? Today was definitely not my day.

"I bet the world wouldn't miss on more brown kid like you, would it?" he toothily grinned.

His shaking hand slowly released the safety. However by this time I was on him. Years of fighting for my life physically and mentally had honed my reaction and perception time slightly above that of a normal human.

So I saw that while the guy was about to kill me with a pistol I also knew that his aim would be really off. I could also tell that he wasn't someone who used pistols a lot from his grip but used rifles. And I also knew that when I dashed a few steps towards him he would panic. He didn't obviously expected me to fight back.

Wrong motherfucker.

I also knew that when I quickly disarmed him with my right hand while pulling him toward me with my left he would expect a major bruise in the morning. What I didn't expect was disarming him with his gun in my hand and brutally smashing his face with it.

I could tell from its feel that it was a P229 or P228.

Somehow my body had remembered the previous experience a few months ago and did its part. However what I didn't expect was a loud cracking sound to happen before the guy's forehead caved in.

The gun was stronger than I thought. Once again I found myself covered in blood, in the middle of nowhere and

-a book drops-

Over a dead body as a priest has seen me kill in cold blood. Today was not my day.

I start to run before I hear a shout.

"Wait!"

Later I would feel stupid but I back than I still liked going to church. So like an idiot I stopped when I priest told me to. I turn around and see a white man in his late forties running towards me.

The blood rushes to my brain as I think of a solution, any solution that will not end with another life on my hand. The gun is still in my hand and I half-heartedly raise it. The priest doesn't seem surprised by my action and slowly pulls out something. I was a millisecond away from firing before he pulls out a lighter.

"Smoke," he asks gently.

I blink surprised at the gesture before roughly grabbing the lighter. I might need it later. If the short priest was disturbed or angered by my actions he didn't show it.

"I don't smoke," I replied.

"And a good thing too," answered the priest otherwise not surprised by my answer.

I cut to the chase, "What do you want?"

"No child," he shot back, "It is what do you want? Do you wish to have your revenge and finish what you started or do you wish to start over?"

The eyes of the priest seems to darken slightly as he speaks.

"Why do you care?" I questioned still holding my gun at him. At this range no matter how bad I am, I won't miss.

That's what I kept telling myself as my hand shook.

"I care because I see something in you, child. You have the willpower to rule worlds, cause chaos and most of all join a truly worthy cause," the priest answered cryptically.

"Get to the point!" I yelled nearly pulling the trigger before stopping.

Why would I want to kill a priest.

"If you want to have new life far away, Chaos is your answer," the priest explained. His voice is now becoming distorted for whatever reason. I don't care.

"And why should I join this 'chaos'," I air quoted.

The priest merely smirked before turning back to the stage.

"Because you have nowhere else to go," he replied before turning back to me, "If you truly wish to take control of your destiny, chaos is your answer. Join us Jetlix Sinjid Rahman."

I put the gun down now interested in his proposition. I don't know why but I want to join this "cult". Maybe it's a lie to by some time for the cops to show up but I don't care. I'm desperate now.

A few days ago I would have laughed at his explanation, called him crazy and left. Back then I had some place to go. Now I have nowhere. I can't go home. My parents and sister will hate me. I can't meet my "friends" and stay over will all the cops after my blood and I can't stay here with the dead bum.

"What do you have to do?" I ask now sitting down.

"Simple. Pledge yourself to the two true lords of Chaos; Slannesh and Tzeentch and you can be your own man, rebuilding your life."

Wait that's it?

"Very well."

However I didn't know if these "chaos" gods don't exist I'm prepared to shoot my way out despite never firing a gun in my life. Flinching as I stepped over the bleeding body of the bum I open his jacket and find another magazine. That brings my total bullet count up to 24 or 26 if this my gun is fully loaded. Considering that I haven't fired a gun at all I would say that I could kill between 4-6 six people at a distance of 5-10 meters before using up all my ammunition.

Not seeing anything else I sat down on the wooden bench, before placing the gun in my hand.

"I, Jetlix Sinjid Rahman, hereby pledge myself to the truest of Chaos Gods, Slannesh, prince of pleasure and Tzentch, the lord of change. I hope you guide me on my journey that will shape my destiny," I spoke toward the ground.

For a moment nothing happened and I was prepared to call bullshit before I felt a tickle on my toes. My shoes started disappearing like dust to a wind and leaves to a small gale. In less than what I thought was three seconds my entire body turned to dust as a book slammed into me and I scattered to the winds, to another world and to another realm altogether.

The Blademaster's bloody revolution had begun.

PROLOGUE COMPLETE

To all those who wish to make me do this on another thing instead just Private message me. This story's beginning can easily go anywhere. Just remember that you have to put up a good argument though.

I hope the readers weren't disgusted by my religious ideals, explanation and etc. I apologize but I have no idea how to properly write a religious act except for obviously Chaos.

Don't forget to read, review and vote on the best Tyranid pet my profile.