Okay, I'm putting Black Fox on hold for a while, and I'm doing the same to Bloody Kisses of a Forbidden Love as well. Let's say this fanfic captivated me for the time being.
"The key! Turn the key you fool! Turn it for your father's sake!"
The key is sticking out of the keyhole in the black box. It seems to mock him. This black box, set in a ring with eleven others, guarding a thirteenth one that has suddenly appeared. The top lifts back, and out of the box, screaming flies one of the thirteen Demon Lords. Its black robe flutters around it as the hood falls back, revealing a grinning eyeless horror.
Kaien Cross leaps for the box, hand grabbing for the key. He has forgotten everything around him. His mentor, who is busy grappling with another Demon Lord, his friend Yagari, shooting at sepulchers, the chaos around him, all these things have been forgotten. The only thing on his mind is the key sticking out of the black box, the doorway for the demon.
They are in a forest clearing, it is dead winter, and yet this close to the hellish summoning circle, it is as hot as hell itself. He grips they key, and begins to turn it to the right. He has forgotten his sword, it lies behind him, like a defeated ally, its white metal gleaming powerful and true. Cold death plungesitself into his back as he realizes the Demon Lord has sunk its hands into his flesh, searching for his heart, meaning to draw out his soul, and turn him into one of the sepulcher servants flying around the clearing, screeching, and disorienting the battle.
With the cold comes pain, he grits his teeth, and continues turning the key, listening frantically for the click of the locking mechanism sliding into place. The lock is just about home, when suddenly, his hand is paralyzed, and more of him that that. His entire body refuses to move, his chest contracts and expands in a parody of breath, even though his heart has ceased to beat. The realization comes in a shocking, dazzling clarity:
The Demon Lord has found his soul.
His vision blurs, and the darkness of death beckons to him. A wind begins to blow, bringing with it the scent of thousands of roses. Cross pushes these things out of his mind, and concentrates on the key, he knows that if he can just make that lock slide home, then he will be free. Once more, he tries to turn the key, but his arm has stopped working. Now with horror, he watches as his fingers go limp, and his hand falls, useless to the hard unforgiving ground. A scream of both terror and defeat dies before it can even breach his closed lips. This is the end. He will die here, only to be resurrected as one of the undead to be hunted down and slaughtered. With nothing more to do, he closes his eyes, and waits for it to be over.
Bang!
Something screams. It is a horrible sound, caught somewhere between the laughter of a madman, and the cries of murdered children. It is a sound that will haunt him for years to come. The coldness departs his body, and life floods him with such a rush that he is gripped for five full minutes that seem to pass like hours by an uncontrollable shaking.
When he finally has his body back under control, he feels a hand on his shoulder. Kaien gets to his knees, and looks behind him. Yagari kneels behind him, with a concerned look in his eyes. Cross mouths a 'Thank you.' and goes back to the business of the key. He knows he doesn't have long. He can hear the Demon Lord preparing another assault. Quickly, he clasps the key, and turns it. Click! The lock falls into place. Kaien yanks the key out of the keyhole. The box begins to vibrate, and the creature begins to scream as it is sucked back into the box. Kaien leaps out of the way as spade-like clawed hands slash the air where his throat had been a moment before. Vainly, it grips to sides of the box, but it falls prey to vortex sucking it back in.
The lid snaps shut, and there is a moment where the box begins to shake violently, but it soon ceases. After all, without the key the doorway can not be opened, and the box will stay locked.
He turns to his friend, who has stood behind him, gun aimed at the box should the thing re-appear. Kaien shakes his head to indicate it is over. Yagari nods, and runs across the clearing. They have been fighting for over three hours, and in the span of time, they have managed to lock eight of the boxes. The ones that remain open are on the left side of the clearing.
In the center, stands the ethereal thirteenth box, which cannot be destroyed until the other twelve have been locked. As he looks at the box, he wonders where exactly the thirteenth lord is, and how strange it is, that the most powerful of the lords is so reliant on the weaker below him. Suddenly, oddly, he remembers earlier today, when he walked past a man whistling Thomas Dolby's 'Weird Science', and maybe it's more fitting than odd, because the way the Locked Boxes work is weird science. Probably the weirdest of all. He is just about ready to run over, and help his friend, when a sepulcher materializes behind Touga, grabs him by the ankle, and lifts him high into the air, keening in high pitched laughter.
"Touga! Hang on!"
He makes a dash for his sword, picks it up, and waits for the sepulcher to fly within rang of the blade. Yagari is trying to aim his gun at the thing dragging him through the sky, when the sepulcher knocks it out of his hands. The weapon goes flying, and lands far from Kaien, and their mentor, who Kaien wonders if he realizes they're still there. He is brought back to his senses by Yagari's shouting. The sepulcher is flying straight towards him, other arm outstretched. His hands clasp the hilt of his sword, and he swings, hearing the silver plating on the edges of the blade sing as it arcs through the air. Just before he can tear the sepulcher's head from its shoulders, a white arrow slices the sky, and knocks the unhallowed thing in the chest. It lets go of Yagari, and sends the nineteen year-old flying across the clearing, and into a copse of bushes. Kaien looks at the wounded sepulcher. The arrow that has pierced its bony, skeletal chest has begun to glow, enveloping the creature in a beautiful white light.
'Purity.' He thinks as the thing gives one last scream before departing from this plane of existence. The arrow that did the evil in is sticking up out of the ground, white against the black of the night, its tip plated with silver. On the head is the symbol of a full red rose entwined around a silver cross. It is the same symbol on the flat of his blade, and the same symbol on the barrel of Yagari's gun.
On the other side of the clearing, Yagari is getting shakily to his feet, rubbing his ankle where the sepulcher's talon's pierced skin. Good, Yagari is okay. His only other priorities are locking the rest of the boxes, and his mentor, who is not faring so well.
Hatori Yuskai is standing near an old ironwood, firing arrows into the sky, there is blood dripping from multiple wounds in his arms, chest, and forehead. The wounds in his chest bite deep, even from this distance, Kaien knows if something is not done, Yuskai, mentor to both Yagari and Cross, will die. Above them, the three remaining Demon Lords circle, laughing, and screaming. Chasing each other, they begin to move faster, and faster, until there is nothing but a line of black, whirling, and humming.
The three remaining Demon Lords are summoning their master. The fate of the entire world now rests on the shoulders of three battle weary men. These men don't have hours, they don't even have minutes; they have seconds. Mere seconds until an old hell is released on Earth. No pressure. Yuskai releases arrows from his crossbow, while yelling at his former apprentices;
"Go you fools! I can buy us some time, but only a little! Hurry!"
Kaien attaches his blade to his hip, and runs to one of the open boxes on the left side of the clearing. Above, there is the sound of an arrow hitting home, and screams. Another arrow is fired, and yet another. Beside him, Yagari is pouring his strength into turning the key in his box. In this instance, turning the keys is more than just a simple flick of the wrist. They must grapple with the will of the demons themselves, and the dark powers that forged the boxes into being. Kneeling beside his friend, Kaien grabs his wrists, and the both of them, with their combined strength, they turn the key, and click the lock into place.
A whirlwind assaults them as the power in the box is reversed and the Demon Lord is sucked back into its cage. Yagari flinches as one of the claws flicks across his cheek, drawing blood. Then, just as before, the box snaps shut, and the demon is gone. One down, two to go, three, if they don't hurry up. Yuskai-sensei is buying them time, but if they don't get cracking, it may not be enough. Yagari dives to the left, and Kaien runs off to the right. Two boxes to go. It seems almost impossible to believe. Almost.
Kaien grasps the key. This will be it. Before the battle started, he'd had his doubts. But now he knows. This will be the end. Triumph fills him, engulfing his soul in a golden blaze a thousand times brighter than any sun. He falters for a moment, stunned by the clarity, the utter simplicity of it all. Two boxes! That's all that stands between them and peace. That's it! As he kneels in front of the box, hand clasped firmly around the key, he has forgotten about the sepulchers. A grave mistake. While he was busy basking in the moment to come, one had come up behind him.
Claws sink into his chest, as the sepulcher bites into his throat, tearing through tender flesh. Kaien screams, and he sounds like the demons above him. He can hear their laughter. Yagari rises to help, but Kaien shakes his head. Black agony eats at his entire body, he knows that there won't be much time to do this. The probing fangs of the creature are getting closer and closer to the carotid vein , and the hands are sinking deeper and deeper, going slower, drawing out his pain. His hands are twitching, but he manages to grab his sword. He brings it back, and cleaves the skull of the sepulcher in two. It falls away from him. As the fangs and claws tear themselves out from his flesh, black and white dots swarm his vision, and for a moment, he believes he will faint.
Through sheer force of will, he pushes unconsciousness away. Beside him is the audible click as another lock slides into place. The first to last demon is pulled back into the box, now one remains. His box. The strength has left his limbs. A little ways away, Yuskai-sensei is being harassed by sepulchers, they are knocking him to and fro, playing a macabre game of catch. He hears the sickening sound as the flesh of his master is pierced by their unforgiving talons. Dropping to his knees, Kaien grabs the key once more, and begins turning the lock. It is harder, and he can hear the demon's voice in his mind. It is hard to focus on one particular voice, as it seems to be many of one. They batter his mental reserve, screaming, and screeching. Just when Kaien thinks he can bear it no longer, and he will succumb to the afterlife where the breeze smells of roses, Yagari shoves him out of the way, and turns the key, locking the last box.
They two young men are battered by a fierce wind, as the final demon is pulled back into its box. Yagari is too busy regaining his senses to notice it, but Kaien does. The demon is laughing at them. It is only when he looks up into the sky, that he realizes what is going on: They took too long. Up in the sky, is a large portal, within its circumference, Kaien can see lightning, and deformed creatures flying about. He nudges Yagari, whose eyes widen as he beholds their grave mistake.
A large, rotted hand appears. Maggots the size of a human head squirm in the gray pink flesh. Yellow-white claws scratch the trees, the very presence of such an unhallowed appendage has tainted the very air, and so now both of them must only take small sips to avoid being poisoned.
"What do we do now?"
Yagari asks. His eyes are large and frightened. Kaien doesn't blame him. Inside his chest, he can feel his own heart hammering away. He doesn't know, but something must be done, before the rest of that thing gets clear. Kaien is about to reply, when a shout cuts him short. Both young men turn to see something that will scar their dreams forever: Hatori Yuskai has been impaled on the claws of the great demon hand. He squirms, screaming in agony as he slides further down. His blood turns the claws and part of the fingers a chuck berry red. The sepulchers laugh, and the Thirteenth Lord roars his satisfaction. He now has a sacrifice, a perfect welcoming gift if you will.
At that moment, something becomes clear: If they can stop the hand from getting any further, maybe they can stop the Thirteenth Lord from arriving. Yagari bends down, and cups his hands together, forming a step for Kaien's foot. Kaien backs up a few paces, then runs. As he runs, he lets loose a yell that puts all other battle cries to shame. Within the rising intensity of his voice is everything his life is, has been and will be. In the cry is his life as a child, so cruelly ripped away from him, the death of his lover, Genevieve, who bled to death in the cold snow of a winter much like this one, there is all these things and more. He steps into Yagari's cupped hands, and leaps straight for the hand of hell. His sword is held firmly in his hands, as he swings, and connects with his target.
It was like cutting hot butter. If he hadn't have felt the tearing of flesh, he would've sworn he cut through air. Black fluid that wasn't really blood sprays through the air, soaking the nearby trees that die seconds later. Pus seeps out of the wound, smelling of wax and decay. The maggots that have been cut in half, still try to feed on flesh that isn't there, using mouths that no longer exist.. A sound that isn't quite a scream, but rather much like an electric wail split's the air, and shatters the ear drums of any small animal nearby.
The hand shrivels up, resembling a dried prune before turning to dust. The severed arm pulls itself back into the safety of its netherworld, whispering to itself. Kaien is glad he can't understand what it's saying. Then, the portal is closed. He lands on the ground. The sepulchers have either fled or gone back to where they came from, and the boxes lay on the ground, securely closed, and seemingly harmless. The air is so still that it seems to be nonexistent. The horrible presence that poisoned it is gone, and now clean air has never smelled better. The intense heat has also departed, and the cold bites into his body with sharp teeth. Everything looks normal, or would have looked normal if not for the large amounts of blood pooled on the ground.
"Master Yuskai! Master Yuskai! C'mon! Open your eyes!"
Yagari is kneeling down beside their fallen teacher. Kaien joins him. There, laying on the ground is the term dying made flesh. Large ugly holes on his chest and stomach glimmer black with blood. Claw wounds hiss and burn as the sepulcher venom spreads further through their torn teacher's body. The only thing that is still okay to look at are Yuskai's eyes. Those green eyes still burn with light, albeit a pinprick. Yagari tears off his jacket and begins pressing it onto the fatal wounds. But Yuskai's voice stops him.
"No…Touga…that…won't do…any…good and you…know it."
This is followed by a fit of hacking and coughing. Flecks of blood spatter Yuskai's chin, as he continues to smile up at them.
"We did it boys…we did…it.."
Yagari grits his teeth together. Tears are starting to form in his eyes.
"What's the point of going through all this just to lose you at the end?! Why did we do this?!"
Kaien cannot find his voice, he just kneels there, observing the dying mans serene face as he gazes up at the two people whom he took under his guidance.
"The point, Touga, was to prevent an age of darkness, an eternity of despair from arising on this Earth. To save the lives of the innocent, and to fight for the white light of Purity. To keep the evil taint from consuming this world. That is not only the point of this mission, but the point of our organization as well. We White Knights exist for that purpose. To protect the people from the older evils of the world."
"Does that also mean losing the ones we care about, in pursuit of our eternal selfish quest?! Where's the sense in fighting for Purity when-"
Yagari is cut off as Yuskai feebly waves his hand, motioning the younger Knight to be silent.
"Listen Touga, can you hear it? Can you feel it? The sounds of perfect silence, the feel of balance being restored? Do you not feel the least bit triumphant? Is it not right for peace to prevail? And if we lose a companion or two, it does not mean our quest was in vain."
Yagari is about to say more, but Kaien lays a hand on his friends shoulder. Yagari grips it with a stunning amount of strength. Kaien can feel the silent sobs that wrack his friend's body. It is only when he blinks, and becomes aware of the wetness under his eyes, that he realizes he is crying too. Yuskai smiles up at them, and for a dying man, the smile is not too bad.
"I'm proud of you both. You two helped me stop a great evil from being born. Thank you…both of you."
Then, Yuskai lays back his head, and is gone. Yagari screams. Kaien leans forward, and closes his dead master's unseeing eyes. He envelops his friend, and the two of them kneel there in the cold, clinging to each other, sharing a painful loss that they will regret and blame themselves for until their last breaths. When they part, Kaien suddenly remembers the wounds inflicted by the sepulcher. He reaches for the belt at his waist, and unzips a large pocket. In the pocket are bandages soaked in a silver-white liquid. Carefully, he wraps them around his neck, he will leave the wounds on his back, sides and chest to Glinka at the Council. Yagari looks at him, his eyes are red from crying, Kaien imagines his are too. Yagari gently grabs his friend's arm, and slings it around his shoulders. Kaien leans on his friend; they are not far from the Council, if they can make it back to the car parked on the edge of the forest, just off the road, then it will be a thirty minute drive, then they can get their wounds treated.
Before they leave, Kaien turns to the cooling body of their dead teacher.
"We'll come back for him. He deserves a proper burial."
Yagari nods.
"Yes, although he deserves more to be alive than stuck six feet into the ground."
Kaien winces at the bitterness in his friend's voice. Then, they turn back around, and head for the edge of the forest, leaving their broken, beaten, and dead teacher behind to freeze in the snow, until they can return for him, and give him the funeral they promised each other he would receive.
* * * * *
The door stands before him. It is the only thing barring his way, the only threshold he is afraid to cross, Seventeen year-old Kaien Cross, holds his sword out in front of him, trembling. He can feel the tainted aura of the thing sitting in his father's study clear on the other side of the door. Swallowing, he vainly tries to leash his fear, as he slowly turns the knob.
On the other side of the door, is a study, his father's study. The interior is oak wood paneling, with a likewise paneled floor. It is a large room, and at the far left, are two beautiful French doors. The glass has a lovely smoked rose in the center of each. A design his fourteen years dead mother picked out when they designed the room interior. On the other side of these doors is a small mini library, but the room beyond the French doors does not concern him. There is a blazing fire in the hearth, but instead of warming him, the fire freezes his heart. It reminds him of hell. Emerald green curtains flank either side of a large bay window. Outside dead leaves swirl in the black of the night sky, there are no stars that he can see, and no moon to aid the lonely traveler's eyes with its gentle light. Pictures of beautiful, tranquil landscapes hang on the walls, depicting waterfalls, and mysterious forests where dreams breathe and secrets whisper. A great deal of the floor is covered by rug the same color as the curtains, in front f the window is his father's desk. It is a simple desk, dependable wood, with an overhead lamp to provide light in the dimmer hours. On the left side, is a magnifying glass, discarded papers, and an old ball point pen. On the right, are stacks of thick books, their covers dusty, and their pages yellowed.
Behind this array of object sits the thing masquerading as his father. His father's eyes look at him, his father's face smiles at him, but it is not his father. The demon possessing his father has dressed himself in one of his father's best suits. It leans forward, and spreads his father's hands, never losing that smile.
"My son, my son. Didn't I tell you?"
His father's body gets up out of the chair, and begins to walk around the desk, coming to stand at the front. Kaien clenches his trembling hands tighter around the hilt of his sword. .He is certain that the demon residing in his father's soul can both see and smell his fear.
"That to live by the sword, is to die by the sword?"
It begins to walk towards him. Now the smile is gone, replaced by a look of emptiness that is more frightening than the smile it wore a minute earlier. The fear swimming in his veins threatens to paralyze him for a moment, then somehow, by some grace of God, it evaporates, leaving him as empty as the look on the face of his former father. But with a purpose.
"You're not my father!"
He shrieks, and lunges forward, driving the point of the sword between the third and fourth rib; directly into the heart. He watches as his father's face contorts, and blood spurts out of his mouth. The demon in his father's body shambles backward, crashing through the French doors, the sword still sticking out of its chest. There is a resounding crash, then silence. Kaien runs into the mini library. Both his father's study and the mini library are on the second floor. Inside the miniature library is a railing, and to the left is a staircase, which leads down into the larger library on the first floor. The body of his father has fallen on one of the wide tables, knocking more discarded papers and books askew. Blood pools on the table, and red liquid ribbons trail to the floor, where they form small individual puddles. The legs of the table have been crushed due to the sudden weight collapsing on top of them. He watches as his father's eyes glaze over, and as his chest falls for a final time.
At first nothing happens. Kaien stands there, contemplating whether it is safe enough to retrieve his sword from his father's corpse. Something decides for him. Mounted on the walls, are three small lamps, and he watches as one by one they blink, once, twice, then go out. An unforeseen presence fills the room. Down on the first floor, his father's body has started to glow a sickly red color, something resembling black smoke sails up from the corpse. It sails up to meet him, then stops, suspended in the air, and begins to take form: A large barrel chest, broad shoulders, clawed hands attached to long gangly arms, seven fingered hands, clawed feet and stubby legs, in the middle of the midriff a face appears. It has four yellow gray eyes with slit pupils. A mouth opens in a growl, revealing diseased, long teeth, each one has been filed down to a point. It is about to reach for him, when a fiery crackle sends tremors through the entire house.
A bright orange tongue of flame travels out of the fire place, and winds itself around the demon that had staked a claim on his father's soul. It screams. Kaien covers his ears, and drops to his knees, praying that by the time all this is over, he will still be retaining his sanity. The air above him sizzles as the demon is pulled back by the rope of flame. The fireplace has now become a portal, and from his position, Kaien can see pale bloodless hands pulling, one over the other at the cord of flame dragging the screaming, gibbering entity back into the depths of hell. Black claws grip the stone ledge in the fireplace, and for a moment, he believes the demon will pull itself free, but it lets go. He can hear it screaming as it is dragged further down. There is a sucking noise as the stones re-arrange themselves. After three minutes, it's as if nothing ever happened.
Slowly, he gets to his feet. His father's body is still on the table, but now it is truly empty. Kaien vaults over the railing, and lands nimbly beside his father's dead body. Sending a silent apology to his father's departed soul, he plants his foot on the cadaver's stomach, and pulls his sword free.
"Dad…I'm so sorry."
He wraps his hands around the hilt of his sword, bows his head, closes his eyes, and kneels beside his father, and recites one of the many oaths of the White Knights;
" May the life that hath been sacrificed not be in vain. May thy soul of the departed find peace in the afterlife. Let my sword continue to follow the white light of Purity, and may that purity guide thy soul of the dead before me, giving it peace and happiness for the rest of time. Amen."
Feeling that weight of the minutes he endured, (it is hard to believe that the fiasco that made him murder his father lasted only mere minutes), he rises to his feet, and sobs, feeling a terrible combination loss and regret unfold inside of him, like the black petals of a venomous rose.
* * * * *
He opens his eyes to find himself facing a full length mirror. Reflected in the mirror is the Kaien Cross he is now, a 37 year old man who has turned away from the dark, despair filled back alleys his former life had him running through. A man who is hoping for better things. There is nothing around him except for darkness, and the mirror. The glass seems to have its own aura, it looks like someone has covered the mirror with a black veil. Suddenly, he does not feel so comfortable about looking into the glass. Movement behind him catches his attention. His instincts scream for him to run, but his feet are like lead, even his legs refuse to respond. He turns back to the mirror, and cries out. Not him any more! Floating in the mirror is a wraith. An apparition in a smoky gray cloak, impossible to see its face, but he can see two red eyes burning in hollow sockets.
The apparition screams, then launches itself out of the mirror, cold bony hands going straight for his throat. Long skeletal fingers wrap themselves around his windpipe, choking off his air supply. Although there appears to be nothing solid beneath him, he feels hard ground connect with his back. It begins to throttle him, and for the first time, he is afraid of dying. Red eyes burn into his own, in those eyes he can see images, there is a flash, then his mind is seeing the images reflected in the spirit's eyes.
He is back at the clearing where he and Touga lost their former master, except something is different. The whole area seems to glow an unnatural orange-red, and in the middle stands the Thirteenth Box. The key is sticking out of the keyhole, and before he can do anything, it begins to turn by itself. A strange, hollow, empty black light envelops the box, then the lid flies open. Sepulchers, wraiths and all manner of hell's demon fly out of the open doorway. They swarm around him, circling him, surrounding him in their tainted, unhallowed aura. Scents straight from the crypt assault his nose; dust, death, rotting flesh, and the horrible acrid tang of evil.
His arms rise above his head as he realizes he is being lifted up off the ground. Grinning skulls of the sepulchers meet his eyes, as he is led five hundred feet above the ground. Screams of horror and despair meet his ears, and it is only a few seconds later when he realizes that they are coming from the ground below. Before he can register what is going on below, he is dropped to the ground. The entities of hell continue on their way, leaving him to get unsteadily to his feet. He shakes his head to clear it of the fog, then takes a good look around.
They have dropped him in the center of his school campus. It is chaos. Dead bodies litter the ground like common trash clad in both white and black uniforms of the Night and Day Class. There is the smell of fire and burning flesh, and sections of the school grounds have been painted red in the blood of the dead and dying. Something heavy hits him in the back, knocking him forward. A Day Class girl has stumbled into him, her throat has been torn out, and the blood from her wound has spilled all down the front of her uniform, and now paints the back of Kaien's jacket. She falls to the ground, dead before her still warm body hits the ground.
Swallowing his shock, he gets to his feet, and begins to walk around the grounds. It might not be the most helpful of ideas, but it is the only thing he can think to do. Turning his back on the dead body of one of the many students he does not know, he begins to explore the bloody nightmare of his academy. Amidst the screams, and the calamity it is hard to think, hard to concentrate. Hells angels beat their wings, and sing a demented chorus form atop the Moon Dorm. On the front steps, succubae snag any unwary male victim running by. Wraiths emerge from the ground, entrapping unwary, and panicked students, enveloping them in an embrace colder than Death's Kiss. Gritting his teeth, he enters the school building. He is no sooner in the building, when the door shuts behind him. Deep down, he is not surprised. Not at all.
He can hear a whispering, many voices, joining together to form one. There is more blood on the walls, and the hallways are littered with dead bodies. His feet seem to forget that, and he trips over one of the carelessly discarded corpses. When he turns to see who it is he has nearly fallen over, his heart stops for a few precious moments.
Kaname Kuran, president of the Moon Dorm, and pureblood vampire lies in a pool of his own blood. His throat and eyes have been ripped out. There is a long incision running from the base of his collar bone to his navel. For a moment, he believes his eyes are deceiving him, but on closer inspection, he realizes he is right: The incision is moving. An ocean of black pours from the wound, tiny legs jittering on the wood, playing a chorus only the damned can comprehend. Thousand of little spiders crawl over the remains of the vampire, eating whatever they can find. In the far back of his mind, Kaien wonders why the body has not turned to dust, or any of the other Night Class bodies for that matter, but that thought is irrelevant. The sounds of millions of fangs clicking together as tender flesh is devoured is almost too much for him to bear. Gathering his stomach, that is slowly collecting in his throat, Kaien Cross turns, and flees, leaving the spiders to continue their feeding. As he flees down the corridor of death, he hears other sounds: Somewhere in a nearby classroom, a girl is being raped and eaten by an incubus, a young boy is being torn apart by sepulchers, and that whisper has grown to a loud humming chant.
His lungs are beginning to burn, and he knows he must find somewhere safe to rest. But where? The auditorium. It's a big enough room, surely he can find a safe place to hide, rest, and think of what to do next. Cold wind blasts through the hallway, he whirls around. Coming down the corridor, not really stepping over the bodies, but hovering over them is a red cloaked figure. He does not have time to run, so Kaien lays himself flat on the floor, and pulls a nearby dead body over top of him. It is impossible not to gag on the stench of death, but it is all he can do for the moment, besides pray that this demon god will pass him by. As the apparition passes each of the closed doors, one by one, the rooms on the other side become silent. He can now hear the chant that has reverberated through the walls;
"He comes, he comes, the new Thirteenth Lord comes!"
The new Thirteenth Lord? What the hell does that mean? He, Yagari, and the late Master Yuskai prevented the Lords from being reborn on this plane. But, if that were really true, would that explain anything happening now?
'Of course not.'
He thinks
'Because I am in a dream, albeit a strange one, but a dream nonetheless. But…'
He does not finish the thought. The figure is right above him. Its aura slams down on him like a ton of hot bricks. He is suffocating on the presence of taint. Underneath that is a commanding presence, and absolutely EVIL presence, assuring him that the one who floats above him can be no other. A clawed hand extends down, and touches the body of the dead student lying atop him. Terror, cold, black iron terror squeezes his heart and lungs so tight, death nearly envelops him right then. To his relief, the hand is withdrawn. Satisfied that everyone in the corridor is dead, the Thirteenth Lord continues on his way.
He lies there for a few more minutes, until he is sure that it is safe to come back out again. Heaving the body off of him, he takes a moment to say a quick prayer for the departed that lay before him, sending a special prayer for Kaname, then follows the Thirteenth Lord. The path leads him to the auditorium. There his eyes behold everything in his nightmares. Orgies of flesh and blood are spread throughout the room. Those who have been found, or graciously left alive are being offered up as sacrifices, mainly young human women. Faceless, nameless, lesser demons leer from corners, and the shadows, and wait their turn to take the scraps from the grand feast. Both succubae, and incubi paint themselves in the blood of their victims, making swirling patterns of red, flanked by spots of the darker, richer heart's blood. The chant is now a yell, it swells to fill the entire room, and nearly shatters his eardrums.
"He is here! He is coming! The Thirteenth Lord! Ruler of Evil! God of the unhallowed! Master of Darkness! Praise him! Honor him! He is here! He has come! HE HAS COME!"
The last three words are screamed in such a manner, that Kaien fancies his ears are bleeding. Up ahead, on the stage, the Thirteenth Lord is standing. The room has fallen silent, those who had been basking in the climax of the orgy are put on hold for the time being. The Thirteenth Lord raises his hand, and Kaien is shocked to see it looks like a normal human hand. It is not half-rotten, nor is it a thousand times its own size. The only abnormal thing are the two extra fingers, and the long claws. The hood stays perfectly positioned, not even the eyes show. Then, the demon begins to speak.
"My sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, children of darkness, the time has come! The doors have once more been opened, and this time we will not fail! It was eighteen years ago that our great coming, our dominion over the races of the living was ripped from us!"
Howls of despair fill the room. Kaien is not stupid, they know to what, and to whom the demon is referring to.
"But rejoice my family! The old king was weak, and he could not stand against those who stood to smite him! I am powerful! I will be the voice that guides you, I will be the one that leads you on! Together my sisters, brothers, children, daughters, and sons, together we will put out the white light of purity, and engulf the word in the black flame of our evil!"
"NO!"
Eyes of every shade imaginable, red, violet, gold, and the like lock on him. Kaien is shaking, but it is more with anger and revulsion than with fear. Clenching his hands into fists, and grinding his teeth, he speaks.
"You are wrong demon! Eighteen years ago we stopped you, and now eighteen years later we will do it again! The light of Purity can never be extinguished! It is you who will fail! You who will grovel at our feet, begging for mercy! It is us! The living races that shall hold dominion! We will triumph over you as we have done for eons! You will not stand! I swear on the names of all my fathers, YOU WILL NOT STAND!"
Silence, then laughter. It is laughter he remembers all too well. Eighteen years ago, another Demon Lord laughed like this, and it nearly drove him to insanity. The Demon Lord claps as he laughs. After a while, silence reigns again.
"Touching, Knight, touching."
The Thirteenth Lord waves his hand.
"Kill him."
He cannot run, he cannot scream, he cannot even react. The only thing he can do is remain there, while he is thrown about the room, and torn apart, bit by bloody bit. The only thought going through his mind is 'So this is death…'
Then, the cold, black, suffocating waters of unconsciousness close over his head, engulfing him, never to return…
* * * * *
His eyes flew open, and he came straight up out of bed. Panting, he looked around the room. Same old, same old, but…
"My God, that wasn't a dream…it was…"
A vision. Why else would he dream of so many things at once? After collecting his composure, Cross glances over at the clock. The blinking red numbers announce that is 3:00 a.m.
'The hour of demons.' He thinks to himself. 'I'm not surprised.' Still, the feelings that stay with him, even in the waking hours tell him that the vision was much more that demon induced. A warning then?
Carefully, he got up out of bed, and crept over to his closet. Amidst the odder varieties of clothing that neither child under his roof could fathom the reason he owned was a shelf, high above the hangers. Atop the shelf sat a large wooden box. Reaching up, he wrapped his fingers around the edges and pulled it down. Kneeling on the floor, he laid the box before him, and removed the lid.
Inside the box, was a white velvet lining. On the velvet sat s gleaming white sword. It was a European style blade, with edges plated in silver. Silver. The scourge to every unhallowed thing that dared to walk the earth. The hilt was silver plated as well. On the flat of the blade, engraved into the metal was a medium sized silver cross, that had a full, blooming red rose entwined around it. This was the symbol of the White Knights. The White Knights were a secret organization inside the Hunter's Council. Instead of vampires, they hunted what some deemed to be monsters. They were peace keepers, guardians, and silent warriors. In the organization were twelve specially selected vampire hunters, that were trained vigorously, and then initiated in the form of an entrance ceremony. The twelve knight were ruled by a woman clad in white robes referred to as 'Mother Superior'. The weapons of the Knights were of course, white, and bore their symbol. In the case of Yagari's gun, the bullets were silver. No one else except for the Knights themselves knew of the organization's existence, ad the Mother Superior was bound by a strict oath of secrecy. A White Knight. Both he and Yagari had been one, until the incident of eighteen years ago.
Cross smiled sadly as he remembered that night. Their master had died a painful death, but damn it all, he had been smiling, and congratulating them. It was after that tragic winter night, that he and Yagari left the organization, never to return. Yagari went back to being a vampire hunter, as did Cross, and a few years later, he put a stop to vampire hunting as well. Now, he had nothing to hunt, nothing to kill, nothing to eradicate, and that was fine. But the dream, no the vision. Everything in the last part had seemed so real. What did it mean? Then it came to him. Kneeling in the dark, Kaien instinctively reached for his sword. He pulled it out, and watched as the moonlight reflected of the blade.
"The Locked Boxes. Dear God, help us."
Phew! Oh my days, that took forever! How was it? If you have any suggestions, or comments, (hopefully good) click the square button labeled 'Review'. Hope to hear from ya!