A/N: THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE POST MANGA, NEVER READ IT BUT AM WORKING WITH A FEW CONSULTANTS TO EDUCATE ME ON IT. SO IF SOMETHING DOES NOT AGREE WITH THE CANON THEN APOLOGIES AHEAD OF TIME, I'M ONLY HUMAN. AND YES THERE ARE OC'S BUT NOT THE HAREM STEELING, OVERPOWERED AMERICAN KIND. JUST NEW STUDENT'S WITH THEIR OWN MONSTER ABILITIES THAT WOULDN'T BE ANY DIFFERENT FROM THE ANIME.
ALSO MOST MY STORIES START A LITTLE SLOW IN THE BEGINNING AS TO GET THE STAGE SET FOR THE MAIN EVENT.
OH YEAH IF YOU LIKE AMV'S I DO USUALLY MAKE ONE ABOUT THE SERIES I'M WRITING ABOUT. I MADE A ROSARIO ONE CALLED VAMPIREKLOK ON YOUTUBE NOW.
WITH THAT SAID, COME AND PLAY IN 'THE DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND.'
"Fears are nothing more than a state of mind." -Napoleon Hill
Prologue
A night sky of unspeakable crimson shown over head as that of a hematic canvas which was plastered listlessly behind the pallor of a full moon. Bellow this haunting firmament was a terrain of a rather ghastly nature.
Forsaken dirt roads encumbered about by ancient headstones, which due to the hands of time, were cracked and riddled with overgrowth and had long fallen out of their orderly fashion and were laid to rest in crooked rows. Standing tall above the decrepit cemetery, were the rotting oaks of dead trees whose leafless limbs stretched ever onwards as that of the hands of tormented souls attempting to claw their ways out of hell.
Further down this line which was in possession of a panorama of the very disturbing elements that could riddle the mind with the demons of mental torment, was an edifice in similar character of the grave yard in terms of it's dilapidated nature. The structure seemed as nothing more than an all but forgotten warehouse whose outward appearance seemed to communicate clearly that the interior had never been earnestly occupied for over half a century.
Within this morbid environment, it would be astonishing to conclude that the warehouse was being inhabited at this very moment. The figure of a human bolted through the dark passage ways with ungovernable haste.
The empty chasms which once housed dead silence, now were resonating with the eerie echoes of panicked, short winded oxidations as the frenzied individual was running from what appeared to be some type of pursuer that only he was aware of.
Eventually the personage found refuge in a room filled with cobwebs and overturned furniture that also had a window that gave a pale red light to the chamber. With features in acceptable brightness we see that this fearful soul was a young boy of sixteen years of age. He was tall and wide shouldered with palette of gray hair that loosely hung about his green eyes.
He was a rather aggressive looking fellow dressed in a school uniform consisting of a light, turquoise green suit coat with white linings going about the inner hems, white dress shirt and red tie complete with tan pants and thickly polished brown shoes.
He perched himself against the wall next to the aperture, haunched over with his weight being supported by his sweating palms pressed to his quivering knees. It was an odd sight to see such a large and strong looking young man in such a pandemic state. He took a moment to dry the perspiration from his brow with his sleeve before something at the window got his attention.
It seemed that a silhouette was standing among the tombstones, a tall and foreboding looking figure who seemed to be waving coldly at him. Startled, the young man took a moment to reset his gaze, however when he had done so, the figure was gone. He pushed off the wall and timidly approached the glass so that he may have a better look at the outside surroundings.
He scanned the area for a few moments and could find nothing to visually confirm that he was not in solitude. Then there was a thunderous clash that caused the boy to jump back with a yelp. Clutching his heart, he saw an area where the casement had received a terrible crack that could have only come from a massive object coming into collision with it at high speeds.
Re composing himself, the lad walked to the window ledge and found the source of the clatter just outside. On the ground a few steps from the window was a dead, black bird laying sprawled out on it's stomach region with it's wings stretched out crookedly in a lifeless manner.
"Stupid thing must have flown right into it." said the teen when looking at the damaged area then down at the fowl once more.
Then to his alarm, the crow's head quickly turned all the way around and shot a demonic gaze at him through glowing red eyes. Stricken with fear, the young man stumbled back and fell on his hind quarters.
After a moment which allowed his cardio system to reduce it's beat somewhat, the young man's hairs began to stand on end when hearing a most unusual sound. It appeared to be song that started with old static followed by a trumpet playing an intro of lighthearted spookiness which was then accompanied by an upbeat combination of stringed instruments.
The boy got to his feet and followed the source of the music, which now had a man singing an old yet lighthearted tune,
'Children have you ever met the Boogeyman before?
No of course you haven't you're much too good I'm sure.'
The young man followed the unusually chipper music into the adjacent room and found a record player with it's black disc spinning along under the needle as the song continued,
'Don't you be afraid of him if he should visit you,
He's a great big coward so I'll tell you what to do…'
The teenager lifted up the needle to stop the record from reciting it's serenade which was known as Henry Hall's 1932 orchestrated song, 'Here comes the Boogeyman.' He picked the record off the spindle and examined it, then to his surprise, he noticed that the player itself was not connected to any source of power.
The room in which he was now in, also had a window of the like nature as the last. He approached that one as well with the disc in hand and looked out. From this angle, he could see a great body of water that was the same rosary color of the sky above which had an encircling region of cliffs and bluffs going about it.
'Hush, hush, hush, here comes the Boogeyman…'
To his absolute horror, the young man turned about to find the record player continuing to sound without the record or needle to instruct it. He approached it with tearing eyes that were a manifestation of his soul being over flooded with unbearable dread.
'Don't let him come close to you. He'll catch you if he can…'
With a mind that was now outside itself and overcome with anxiety, the young man kicked the record player over with all his might which seemed to halt it's ability to play as it broke into a few large fragments upon the ground.
He then noticed that the remains of the record player landed by another pair of human feet. It was evident that someone else was in the room as he looked up to see a hulking figure facing him. The young teenager shouted an obscenity as he balled up his fists and jumped back.
Within his frenzied delirium he saw that the figure copied his movements precisely and simultaneously. He then chuckled when finding that it was a mirror and nothing more.
It was quiet once more, the boy was alone in this room with only his poorly spangled reflection and shadow upon the wall to keep him company.
Suddenly there was a loud screech as the shadow of the dead bird overtook most of the lit areas of the window and engulfed his shadow in it's shade along with it's reflection peering over his shoulder.
"Shit!" he yelled as he wheeled around. However, there was nothing outside when he turned.
Rolling his eyes in heavy frustration, the boy turned about face to leave the room, but when his eyes came back he found the mirror gone and was replaced with another tangible being standing before him.
A tall individual with a jagged pale face and long streaks of black hair that fell to the shoulders and over black eye sockets which had no eyes nor nose that reeked a grotesque face that looked as a demented skull that was filled with hairline fractures making it all look as though it were the facade of an infernal, porcelain doll.
Screaming in terror, the young man ran for his life out of the room. Doorways swooped past him as his adrenal flight carried him as far away from the specter as possible. At the end of the hallway was a door that was slightly ajar.
He went to throw his body weight at it as a means to break through the exit, yet as he came into contact with it, the door abruptly shut under it's own free will, blocking his flight.
He recovered and grasped the handle to open it but could hear the sound of the locking mechanisms sliding into place within the knob. Then when looking up the frame, saw the sliding dead bolt shift into place without any assistance from a visible force.
Gasping the boy turned around and saw the figure at the other end of the hallway shifting closer towards him in an unnatural manner. Looking around in a pandemic composure the boy found a flight of stairs leading to the upper level, it was then that he rashly decided to make his way up.
The level above was not filled with hallways nor doors, it was a large and spacious area with support beams evenly spaced from each other throughout. There were many large windows yet no appropriate exit. As the young man made his way to this area he then fatally realized the grievous error of his ways.
He had trapped himself. Then he could here the music starting again, from down below. Though it was the same composition, the lyrics were different,
'Tell me Seto have you ever met the boogey man before?
When he finds you, he'll send you knocking on death's door…!'
He ran to one of the apertures furthest from the stairwell from whence he came and began to pound on it screaming, "SOMEONE PLEASE, PLEASE HELP ME!"
He looked back and knew that the figure was following up the path of his retreat. He savagely scanned the area and found an old chair, who retrieved it and hurled it towards the glass.
He began whimpering and crying in spiritual agony as each time he belted the casement, it would crack and splinter, then re seal itself before he could deliver another blow. This episode went on for only a few more seconds before being overcome with the sensation of imminent doom, for he was not alone.
He turned around and found the haunting figure standing twenty feet from where he stood. Yet it only stared at him, as if to put all the details of this boy's final hour into his own hands.
The young man bellowed with reckless courage, "I don't know who the hell you are, but you picked the wrong guy to screw with!"
The teen then began to tremble and shake as his body began to mutate. His flesh was overcome with ocre colored fur, his nose widened, his muscles expanded until they ripped free of his coat. His shoes broke apart as cloven hooves replaced five toed feet. Massive horns grew from his temples. The young man had now taken the appearance of what could be identified as the greek minotaur.
Snorting and saying with a deep voice, the bull man grunted, "Last mistake you'll ever make!"
Then with a roar, he bound forward with the charge of a juggernaut. The blackened figure simply stood there and allowed itself to be overtaken. However, to the bull's bewilderment, he felt nothing when the hour of impact was anticipated.
Snorting out hot gusts of wind from his nostrils, the beast looked around furiously for his target. He quickly turned when realizing the specter was behind him.
Before the monster could so much as comprehend his situation, the figure arose out of a black mist that swirled about his feet. Demon wings expanded the almost width of the room, as the eyes and mouth burst open in a nightmarish fashion of hot amber and burning tangerine. An unearthly scream followed from the devilish being which blew the minotaur into the wall.
He could vaguely recover as the demonic presence came upon him. The next thing that ensued were the muffled sounds of a dying scream that scarcely made it through the walls of the structure.
A profound silence followed. When concerning the regards and welfare of the young man, he was found motionless in his beast form with a pair of human hands digging deep into the sides of his skull. An odd red light was glowing within the veins of the champion as he seemed to be enjoying the act.
Soon after, the fingers slid out of the cranium which left five holes in their places on each side. And standing over the condemned soul was another boy, wearing a similar outfit and looking the same age. His facial features were masked by the darkness, however it was clear that he was gazing upon the corpse with the satisfaction one would have over a trophy.
Proudly, he quitted the edifice and walked out into the night's air. With hands in his pocket he was approaching another building within view yet a few leagues away. It was victorian styled mansion with white washed side panels and green roof tops with a sign pointing to it which read, 'Youkai academy,' just off the roadside.
Eager to approach the school, the boy who was responsible for the other's nightmare and demise, simply whistled a familiar tune then sung in a whisper, 'Hush, hush, hush, here comes the Boogeyman….'