I can't be bothered for an Author Note so I'm just going to jump straight into the story. Just note that my take on Yuichiro will be more cynical. He will be an arsehole and many of you will probably hate his personality. He will most likely 'lighten' up throughout the story, but don't expect drastic changes.
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The sound of footsteps reverberating off the enclosed walls of the hallway was slowing sending the man insane. The lighting of said hallway was abysmal at best, so dark and damp. Small torches lined the way so that one wouldn't get lost, but offered barely enough light for anyone to see their own feet. A heavy sigh that seemed to echo down the long corridor escaped the man's lips as he mused about the length of hallway he was walking down. Why did they summon him now? They must have knew it was successful or else he would have been killed. What purpose did they have with him now? He had done everything they had asked of him. Everything he could feasible do, he had done. So why now?
Why now?
It was an unprecedented amount of time before the man that had been silently musing to himself had reached the exit. The light in the room was even darker than that of the hallway. The silhouette of a large round table sat - what he believed to be the centre of the room- with a multitude of 6 chairs surrounding it. Each chair housed a person with a hood as their visage, obscuring his view of them, not that he didn't already know who they were.
The man stood at the centre of the door way. His arrival having already been noticed but not acknowledged. The figures that surrounded the table did little to show they had acknowledged his presence, not even turning in their chair to greet him. Waiting a few more seconds, one person at the table rose, the entirety of their features hidden from his view. A deep, grumbled and modified voice was what greeted his arrival.
"Thank you for coming at such a short notice." The voice was like nails had been dragged down a chalk board to his ears, the screech of the static from the modifier causing him to have a small headache. He never knew why they didn't speak normally when interacting with him, but he was never brave enough to ask questions with these people.
Nodding his head in understanding, the man stayed standing at the doorway, no one had offered him a seat, so he was expected to stand.
"We have reason to believe that the project wasn't as successful as you think, boy." The voice started again after a few seconds. What was said had caught him by surprise. What did they mean, 'wasn't as successful as he thought'?
He wanted to voice his question, the words sitting at the back of his throat, but his tongue betrayed him. It wouldn't move. He couldn't move, he could barely think.
The voice continued, seeing as the man's attention was solely the hooded figure that was talking, "Indeed. It surprised us too. We have reason to believe that the experiment was even more successful than we originally thought," the voice paused at seeing the confusion on the man's face. It was understandable, the hooded quickly thought to himself, the man was just told that the experiment wasn't as successful that he thought, "I can see your confusion, child. Allow me to explain," the voice finished.
The man, seeing no reason to interrupt, stayed standing. His ears trained solely on the headache-inducing voice of the only figure stood at the table.
"The experiment was so successful that it completely failed. The modified cells of the test subject have exceeded what we needed for a revolution to be brought about. The test subject is of no use to us. It is uncontrollable due to the assimilation of the modified cells to the body." The voice all but hissed out. The pure disgust edging into the voice that could be noted even with the voice distorted.
Assimilation? So successful it failed? The man in question didn't understand any of it. The modified cells weren't supposed to have that kind of effect to the test subject, they shouldn't have been able to be assimilated so easy. What was he missing here? What was the group keeping from him?
"W-What do you mean, sir?" the man questioned. The first question he had ever asked the group. He always did what he was told, whether he thought it was ethical or unethical didn't need to be voiced.
The hooded figure lowered its head slightly, seemingly in thought. After a few seconds, it raised its head again, the voice starting anew, "The test subject's cells that weren't exposed to the virus have been altered to that of the virus. We believe that there isn't a human cell left in the subject. The assimilation was so successful that it didn't work. We weren't able to achieve our weapon. However, the other five test subjects have shown remarkable assimilation. The kind of results we needed." The figure finished. Having said their part, they sat down in their chair as the figure to the right, stood up. The voice that spoke was deep and commanding, not nail-bitingly bad, just low and powerful.
"The Subject #01 needs removing. It is no longer human." With that one sentence, the man's world seemed to end. He fell to his knees. He couldn't do it. How could he be expected to do it?
"We don't need to tell you what to do. The child is no longer human, Jean. That is not your child anymore, it is a Seraph. A Demon in its own right," the commanding voice boomed to the still-downed man. It was a shame that such a powerful weapon couldn't be controlled. A complete Seraph was a being of its own magnificence. In time, it would be untouchable, un-killable, but it wouldn't listen to mankind, they needed a tool that was part human to control, not a complete Seraph. It needed to be killed now while it was still young.
"Kill your son." With that peace said, the man still on the floor collapsed. His vison going dark and his consciousness fading. Behind him stood a man in a uniform, Tenri Hiragi, his name was. A man that stood for justice, tasked with the ultimate job of trying to save mankind.
"See to it that he wakes up in his home. We trust him to follow through with our orders." The voice finished as the lights in the room went completely out.
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A young boy, no older than five years old was sat in the centre of this lounge. Chairs were upturned, paintings were limply hanging to the walls and blood was splattered up the, once off-white, walls. It was the scene of a horror movie. Around the boy sat three bodies of fully grown men. Pools of blood were starting to form around them as the boy remained where he sat. Black sclera and golden pupils sat in the boy's eye sockets. Not eyes that one could look into and forget. These weren't the eyes of a young boy. These were the eyes of a demon in human form. Shooting out the back of the young boy was midnight dark, wings. In comparison to the boy, the wings were gigantic and oozed a dark substance that seemed to be burning holes into the floor. Tears were streaming down the jet black haired boy's face as he sat rooted to one position. Hysterical screams were coming from the kitchen which he once dined from with his family.
"You're a monster! How could I have birthed such a creature," the voice of a young woman screamed from the kitchen. Her long brown hair was in a disarray with stray hairs kicking out everywhere. She has a slight laceration to her face that was oozing blood and tear marks were streaked across her face. "Why are you such a Demon!" she shouted.
The young boy's eyes widened slightly, even more tears starting to fall from his black eyes. Blood was starting to be mixed in with the tears as he held his hand out for the woman to take it. For the woman to come and save him, from himself.
"I-I'm not a monster," the boy whispered back, he hand still outstretched for the woman. He hoped with all his heart she would take it.
She didn't.
Her screams got louder. He insults got nastier. It caused the young boy's heart to break.
"You're no son of mine you filthy creature. I'd kill you right here and right now if I could!" she screamed in response to him. How dare he say he wasn't a monster? The three dead bodies that surrounded him should have told him as much.
"M-mom, I'm not a monster…" chocked sobs broke the boys sentence apart, his voice getting desperate for his – now identified mother- to take his hand. He begged silently that she would.
"Jean! DO SOMETHING!" the boy's mother wailed to the man that was currently stood next to her. He had stood in the kitchen with her, his hands shaking as he thought about what he must do. About how he must act now.
He nodded his head, not trusting his voice as he brought a knife from one of the draws in the kitchen. A disgusted frown managed to work its way onto his face as he noticed the monster's eyes were trained on him. The hand he was holding for his mother to grab had dropped to the ground, it sat limply in the small pile of blood that slowly increasing in size.
Taking tentative steps towards the monster that was sat in his living room, the man spat out his words, "H-How could you do this to your mother and me? W-Why were you such a failure?" Jean questioned, watching the boy start to cry harder as the words cut into the boy's broke heart. Having reached his destination of standing in front of the crying boy, the man raised the knife high in the air, his intentions being obvious as the colour of the sky.
Jean brought the knife down with all his might, not at all surprised that the black wings that were sprouting from the boy's back moved the block the knife, keeping the boy from any harm, and smacking the man into a wall, hard. A sickening crunch was heard as the man went face-first through the wall. His nose being completely broken and multiple bruises beginning to show on his face.
His wife's screaming was what brought the man out of his semi-unconsciousness. He lifted his head slightly to see the black wings of the demon shoot out and stab his wife through the heart. The monster's eyes wide as dinner plates as he stabbed his own mother to death, never once taking is golden eyes off the older woman's, even as the light slowly left her eyes.
It was with primal rage that Jean stood up, knife still in his hand as he charged at the small boy. The wings not moving to stop him this time as the boy seemed to be caught up in the shock of killing his mother. The knife pierced the boy's back before the wings moved to stab the man through the heart as well. The knife, firmly planted into the boys back just like how he was firmly planted into the wall. Acid black wings puncturing his heart as blood started to leak from his mouth. It was with a strained breath as the man managed to choke out his last sentence,
"Your Mother and Father hate you, Yuichiro." With that said, the man died, taking the broken expression of the young boy with him to the grave.
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Yes, Yes, Events happened kind of quickly in this chapter. However, this was just the prologue. This will give you, the readers, the slight bit of background that is needed to understand why Yuichiro will be a prick and an arsehole in this story. There was a slight change about him being a full Seraph and I'll explain that at a later date. However, I hope you all enjoyed the prologue, don't forget to Rate and Review.
Peace.