Psychopomps - (from the Greek word ψυχοπομπός - psuchopompos, literally meaning the "guide of souls") are creatures, spirits, angels, or deities in many religions whose responsibility is to escort newly deceased souls to the afterlife. Their role is not to judge the deceased, but simply provide safe passage. Frequently depicted on funerary art, psychopomps have been associated at different times and in different cultures with horses, Whip-poor-wills, ravens, dogs, crows, owls, sparrows, cuckoos, and harts. In Jungian psychology, the psychopomp is a mediator between the unconscious and conscious realms. It is symbolically personified in dreams as a wise man or woman, or sometimes as a helpful animal. In many cultures, the shaman also fulfills the role of the psychopomp. This may include not only accompanying the soul of the dead, but also vice versa: to help at birth, to introduce the newborn child's soul to the world. This also accounts for the contemporary title of "midwife to the dying," which is another form of psychopomp work.
Morning Star - Any of several medieval club-like weapons that included one or more spikes. Each used, to varying degrees, a combination of blunt-force and puncture attack to kill or wound the enemy.
Banded Mail – Has been described as "a form of mail reinforced with bands of leather", as "overlapping horizontal strips of laminated metal sewn over a backing of normal chain mail and soft leather backing" and as "many thin sheets of metal are hammered or riveted together". The last description more closely fits splinted mail, which consists of long metal splints connected by mail/leather used for arm and leg protection.
Psionics - The practice, study, or psychic ability of using the mind to induce paranormal phenomena. Examples of this include telepathy, telekinesis, and other workings of the outside world through the psyche.
Gravedigger - a cemetery worker responsible for digging a grave prior to a funeral service.
Burial Vault (enclosure) - a container that houses a casket when it is buried. The purpose of the burial vault is to protect the casket from the weight of the earth and the equipment used in the maintenance of the cemetery property.
WARNING: RATED T – Graphic Violence, Gore, Strong Language, Use of Alcohol, Use of Drugs, and Minor Suggestive Adult Themes
"What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger."
Story Idea by Faladae
"In this desert
In darkness
Lying with the gun across his chest
Pretending
He's heartless
As the fire flashes in the sky
He was fragile
And frozen
When the bullet took away his friend
And now he's somehow
More broken
He's pulling his weapon to his side
Loading it full of his goodbyes
Holding an enemy across the line
He's pulling his weapon to his side
Loading it full of his goodbyes
Holding an enemy across the line
Sweating
And shaking
Lying with her hands across her chest
She wakes with
Her cravings
As the fire flashes in her eye
She was fragile
And frozen
When the needle took away her friend
And now she's somehow
More broken
She's pulling her weapon to her side
Loading it full of her goodbyes
Holding an enemy across the line
She's pulling her weapon to her side
Loading it full of her goodbyes
Holding an enemy across the line
With every battle he's choosing
With every fight he's losing
His enemy's not far behind
With every promise she's broken
With every lie she's spoken
Her enemy's not far behind
It's your time
It's your time
It's your time
It's - your - TIME!
He's pulling his weapon to his side
Loading it full of his goodbyes
Holding an enemy across the line
She's pulling her weapon to her side
Loading it full of her goodbyes
Holding an enemy across the line
With every battle he's choosing
With every fight he's losing
His enemy's not far behind
With every promise she's broken
With every lie she's spoken
Her enemy's not far behind..."
- Across the Line by Linkin Park
"Omne initium difficile est."
Translation from Latin to English:
"Every beginning is difficult."
"Alright, all of you form a line and step forward when your name is called." The commander's booming voice ordered as he stepped frontward. The armor clad soldiers and monsters wasted no time getting into a line and saluting as the commander walked past, reading off of the list in his hands.
"Psychopomp Roku."
"Yes sir." A monotone, aged voice responded as an old man in menacing red armor stepped forward; an extended and deadly golden morning star strapped to his back. The commander only tilted his head slightly at his direction and continued:
"Your partner, decided by the Fates, will be Soul Collector Fang."
"Present, sir." A booming voice seemingly growled as the enormous crimson dragon stepped forward. The old man and the dragon then turned to each other and bowed respectively, as was tradition. Nodding his head, the commander then stated:
"Your new mission station is in the populated city of Tokyo, Japan."
The new partners turned towards the commander and bowed respectively and walked off to the exit. The other awaiting psychopomps gulped as they sensed the temperature in the room drop dramatically; may be because Fang's spiked tail accidently (or purposely?) ripped a few of his feathers off on the way out.
"Psychopomp Kyoshi."
"Here, sir." A mature, feminine voice responded as a woman with white and red face paint and strange green silk armor stepped forward; two metal fans at her sides.
"Your partner, decided by the Fates Themselves, will be Soul Collector Hei Bai."
There was no response, except for a bulky panda bear to step forward and nod its head. Seeing the doubt on Kyoshi's face, the commander turned to Hei Bai and simply commanded, "Hei Bai, speak."
In a flash, Hei Bai's innocent panda form morphed into a colossal black and white monster with six legs, causing the people and other Soul Collectors standing near him to leap back in shock. Adding to the powerful affect, Hei Bai raised his monstrous head and opened his mouth, revealing fanged teeth, and let a horrifying roar blast into the sky; a pure white solar beam blasting out of his mouth.
Immediately after the roar ended, Hei Bai shrunk back into his normal panda form, except none of the psychopomps or Soul Collectors near him still stood away from him. The commander saw Kyoshi's mystified face and chuckled. "You two, your mission station will be in the famous city of Beijing, China. Now, move along you two."
After the two left (Kyoshi staying a fair distance away from the panda), the commander went back to the list and read aloud:
"Psychopomp Kuruk."
A Native American man wearing strange fur and leather armor stepped forward; an arsenal of hunting weapons strapped on his back. He seemed to eye the rest of the Soul Collectors in the line almost fearfully, as if Hei Bai had a sibling that was even more terrifying.
"No need to look so nervous, Kuruk. Your partner, bond to you until death, as predicted by the Fates, will be-oh wait. Excuse me, there was a mistake here. Your new partners will be my old assistants: the Seekers."
Hearing their names, a dozen brown foxes walked forward from the line, each with sharp teeth and claws. Kuruk nodded his head in approval and the commander warned him, "Just be careful with them. They're horrendously cunning, and like playing tricks on people. Like how Psychopomp Aang's shoe-ties have been knotted together."
Everybody turned to the youngest psychopomp, who turned beet red and turned down at his shoes, which were, indeed, knotted in special knots that probably weren't even known in the mortal world. As Aang fumbled with his shoe ties, Kuruk patted the head of the largest fox, who was apparent leader of the pack (do foxes even have packs?) as the commander shook his head in amusement as announced, "Your mission station will be in the large country of Canada. And yes, you and your new partners are authorized to hunt whatever game you want, as long as it's in the mortal's laws."
They walked bowed and out, and some of the psychopomps swore they could see the foxes snickering as Aang hopelessly fumbled with his shoes.
"Now, back to business. Psychopomp Yangchen."
"Y-yes sir!" A slightly confused voice stuttered, and a woman, most likely a nun, in bright orange and yellow robes stepped forward; a powerful three-section spear at her side. Like Kuruk, she seemed nervous about her partner as she gazed down the weird and wonderful line.
"Your partner will be the Soul Collector known as the Painted Lady."
A pale woman with scarlet tattoos and flowing black hair stepped forward; wearing pure white robes and a wide straw hat, and it seemed that the woman was even glowing. Having her presence made everyone in the room feel at ease and relaxed, only for the commander to announce: "You two will be put in that mission station in Uganda, and any other part of Africa you will be allowed in. I hope you help the people there, you two."
They nodded and walked out, leaving only a few Soul Collectors and psychopomps left. The commander went on with the list:
"Psychopomp Aang."
Aang, who was still fumbling around with his shoelaces, looked up to see everyone staring at him. He sheepishly stood, shoes still tied together, and hopped forward, causing some psychopomps to chuckle.
"Your partners, chosen by the Fates, will be the Soul Collectors Appa and Momo."
Said Soul Collectors stepped forward, one being a giant buffalo-like creature and the other a small lemur with wings. The lemur, Momo, abruptly flew down from Appa's head and to Aang's shoelaces, unknotting it in a matter of seconds.
"Wow, thanks, Momo!" Aang praised, patting the lemur on the head. As Appa approached, Aang threw his arms around the bison's head, causing a few psychopomps to giggle.
"You three have a mission station in the busy city of London, England. Now, move along, and make sure that you don't get your shoelaces tied together."
Turning red at the last statement, Aang and his new partners bowed and walked/flew out of the room, Aang chattering excitedly to the Soul Collectors. The commander sweat-dropped and muttered to himself, "Poor Collectors, the Fates must hate them..."
He sighed and turned back to the remaining numbers of psychopomps and Soul Collectors. His dark eyes trailed down the line as he announced, "For everyone's information, everyone here has been kept until the end because of your...previous, partners you had. The Fates have not been very pleased with you, but their mercy is the only thing keeping you, well, alive. Just remember that, and if you lose your new partner, the Fates will not be as merciful."
They all shifted uncomfortably and most let their gazes lower to the floor in shame and sadness. The commander turned back to his list and solemnly proclaimed,
"Psychopomp Caedite Eos, the former partner of Soul Collector Meng Wu, who was killed in action. Step forward."
A boy, who biologically was no older than 14-years-old, stepped forward, wearing a complete, scratched and battered set of black plate armor, obviously used before in past battles. A long, tattered dark cloak ran off his shoulders and down his armored back; noticeable stains of blood adorning it. Gauntlets and spiked boots covered his hands and feet, and all parts of skin, besides his face, was shrouded in shadow or armour. The cloak's hood replaced the helmet that would complete the armour, a gigantic, menacing scythe rested in his gauntlets.
The scythe's curved; jagged blade was enormous; taller than Caedite's entire height. Instead of wood, the scythe's handle was made of stone, and carved into the dark stone were the words: Mors Cum Terrore Novo Venit.
His skin was tanned, yet if you looked closely, the skin on his neck was a sickly, unnatural black, as if the skin was dead. Crimson-colored eyes glared at the commander, and his face was in a deep scowl with fanged white teeth. The commander returned the glare with his large dark eyes, and the atmosphere in the room turned much tenser.
"I am completely aware that is not your true name, Caedite, however, the Fates have declared your former name...corrupted." At those words, Caedite's grip on his scythe tightened and the others around his subtly scooted further away. "In exchange for your previous title, they gave you this Latin name that fits most with your personality."
The commander strode forward and towered over Caedite. He leaned forward so they were face to face, and the commander gave the translation:
"Caedite Eos means Latin, for 'Kill Them All'. The exact words you uttered before your partner's untimely death."
Once the commander noticed that Caedite was now trembling with rage, he stood straight and walked down the line, reporting, "Alright, continuing on, we have Caedite's unfortunate partner...Hm, interesting, it seems, Caedite, that your new partner was, in fact, related to your former partner."
Expression shifting from furious to confused, Caedite was taken aback, mouth gaping open. The commander simply nodded and read aloud:
"The former partner of Psychopomp Sud, who died of wounds received in action, and close cousin of Soul Collector Meng Wu: Toph Bei Fong. Step forward."
A girl, even younger than Caedite, stepped forward, completely fitted in a set of forest green and brown banded mail armour; the armour having noticeable holes and scratches from use, revealing a rather thin layer of chainmail underneath. The strange thing about her armour was that there wasn't leather holding together the armour; it was several rusted chains. Spiked spaulders (armored plates worn on the upper arms and shoulders) were chained to her shoulders, and she had no noticeable weapon.
The most striking feature Toph's form had, was that strange, rusted chains were tightly wrapped around Toph's forearms, ankles, and midsection. A great silver cross was chained to the mail's torso, with the words Meum Pactum Dictum carved vertically into it, along with its metal giving off a strange silver mist.
Being held underneath her arm was a silver great helm, decorated with a cross running down its front. Her forearms and legs weren't armored in banded mail armour, but instead had vicious-looking silver armour, and everyone could see the silver aura resonating off of her like steam, revealing that Toph was one of the rather rare psionic Soul Collectors.
Completely and savagely scarred light skin on run up her arms, shoulders, and all the way up to her neck, with raven-black hair that was tied into a long ponytail. Her eyes were an unnatural shade of green pale, and glowing orange flecks were in her eyes. A pulsating red tattoo on her left cheek read the number: 9413. A homicidal scowl was on her face as she turned to her new partner, and if looks could kill, Caedite would've fallen over dead at that every moment.
Those attributes, added with the silver aura, gave the Soul Collector a sinister, sadistic appearance of a ghostly demon, even more so than Caedite's armored form.
"Out of all the people I have to be partnered with, it had to be this son of a bitch?" Toph asked, her voice being clear and suppressing rage. Her clawed gauntlets repeatedly clenched and unclenched, and each time her hand formed a fist the silver ghostly air around her grew like a fire. The commander noticed the floor was shaking slightly due to the Soul Collectors powers, and he then cut through the thick atmosphere by saying:
"I completely understand your anger, Soul Collector, and I would not blame you if you were to rip your partner apart, but you must control your emotions, for the Fates will not be happy if he dies."
The room stopped shaking as Toph calmed down, and the commander saw the mortified look on Caedite's face. He sighed and read the paper, announcing, "The Fates have sent you two to the crowded city of Chicago, Illinois, in the United States of America. Now please, don't kill each other, and good luck."
The psychopomp and Soul Collector turned to each other, the former terrified and the latter completely furious. Caedite held out his hand and Toph took it, crushing his fingers as they shook hands. The two crimson and pale green/orange eyes locked onto each other and both felt the bond between them form, neither wanting it to happen.
As they walked out of the room in complete silence, until the door behind them shut and Toph unexpectedly lunged at Caedite, catching him completely off guard. Having less armor, thus making her much more flexible, she smashed the side of her helmet at his face, knocking him backwards at the wall. Before he even hit the wall, however, Toph's hands gripped his throat and she slammed him against the wall, causing stares to fly across his vision.
"You deserve to die...I should just kill you right here, right now!" She hissed in outrage, attempting to keep her voice down. Her grip tightened on his neck, and he could feel the claws pierce through his skin, but he was too distracted by the burning feeling in his skin, which was probably from the unearthly silver mist resonating that was raging like a bonfire off of Toph's armor and body. He managed to choke out, "P-ple-please do-don't-"
"Was that what Meng said before you murdered her?" Toph roared, no longer caring about her volume. Blood ran down from his bruised nose and droplets of blood appeared in the new cuts on his neck. "It'd be easy, really. Killing you. All I'd have to do is just grab this little throat out of your neck. And I don't care what the Fates would think, and I wouldn't care if they execute me if I dispose of you piece of shit."
"I-I'm so-sorry..."
"How does an apology justify what you've done?" Toph seethed; the room around them beginning to shake from her psychic powers and the silver steam spread, further burning Caedite's skin. "I would kill you in the most horrible way possible. I wouldn't use my powers on your body like the monsters I've killed. I won't give you that honor."
Her grip tightened even more, and a single stream of crimson blood ran down his neck. "I'll have the beetle feed on your eyes. The worms would crawl through your lungs. The rain will fall onto your rotting skin...until nothing is left but bones."
"You'd have to kill him first, and I will not let that happen."
The two turned to the new voice, and both saw psychopomp June standing by the exit, arms crossed and her whip in her hand. Toph grit her teeth as June advanced forward, continuing, "Toph, I understand that you want to kill this idiot, but come on, think for a second. Would Meng want you to commit suicide? Killing him would, in turn, kill you as well."
"So I should just let this killer run around, unpunished?" Toph hissed, yet the aura around her became calmer and the shaking stopped. June shook her head and replied, "Well, your partners now, aren't you? You're supposed to look after each other, for partnership between a psychopomp and Soul Collector is bound in blood and only broken by death. Maybe he can prove himself, show he's changed."
"Prove himself? He killed the only family I had left! You expect me to let that go?"
"No, I don't expect you to forget this, nor do I expect you to forgive him, but I want him to give you a chance. A chance for him to show you he isn't useless, or a just another senseless murderer Meng wouldn't want you to become a senseless murderer either."
June, now within reach of the two, pressed her coiled whip against Toph's ear and the Soul Collector froze.
"Now, let go of him or I'll have to force you to."
Growling, the psionic Soul Collector released her bleeding partner, who slumped against the wall, gasping for breath. Toph backed away a few steps, June still directing the whip at her, then picked up her great helm off of the ground and placed it onto her head, concealing her scowl.
"I'll see you later, Caedite." Toph spat, as if she had something disgusting in her mouth. She headed out of the exit, and once she was out of sight June sighed, seemingly ignoring the fact that Caedite's neck was seriously bleeding and that he had possible hemorrhaging in the back of his head.
"I-I didn't kill Meng..."
At those words, June's eyes widened and she turned back to Caedite.
"What?"
"I wasn't the one who killed Meng. I was framed, and her real murderer is out there, using my former name and killing mortals everywhere."
June's eyes narrowed. "What is that name?"
Caedite looked up, crimson eyes full of determination and hate.
"Koh. Koh the Face Stealer."