~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was not a good day in the depths. It seldom was, but every day brought a new feeling that this day…this dreary, hopeless day would be especially unpleasant. It wasn't all raging fires and small demons with pitchforks, as it was always shown in cartoons. In fact, it more resembled a vast, open space, limitless and incomprehensible, with no end in sight. The ground beneath bore a striking resemblance to year-old chocolate cake, so that it was hard and soft at the same time, crumbling into pieces when one kicked at it hard enough. The sky looked as if someone had taken the natural, soft blues and whites of Earth's sky, and muddled them with harsh, brackish grays and blacks, warping them until they were nothing more than one boundless shadow that offered just enough light to see in front of you, but no further. Another misconception was what took place in Hell. There were no tortures taking place: no line of people kicking Genghis Khan in the bollocks, and no random demon lodging various items of produce into Hitler's backside. Only a cloud of depression resting invisibly over everyone's heads, giving them ample time to ponder their sins as they trudged about aimlessly in the void. When they awoke, the cloud was still there, as it was when they went to bed. They had no nightmares; no apparitions or specters to haunt them in the night, but they did have dreams. Dreams of what could have been, had they not been so irreparably wicked in their past lives. It was then, while they slept, that their memories were unlocked and played before them, like never-ending regrets that each person had front-row seats to. Activities were limited only to walking: but then, none of them seemed rather interested in doing anything else. They had memories to brood over: mistakes to chide themselves for. So much to do, and an eternity with which to do it: a time that, occasionally, didn't seem quite long enough.Rio knew exactly what he had done in his life. He and his brother, they were not good people, to say the least. Jackal, his older sibling, had more than paid his way into Hell, with just enough change left over to have his younger brother tag along. Rio walked now, directionless and with little purpose, just as those around him did. Yet again he thought of his sins; what he had done to end up in this domain of eternal darkness.
Rio…The voice struck a sour note inside of his head, sounding like a beautiful symphony and nails down a chalkboard all at once. He cringed involuntarily, but stayed silent.
Rio…"I'm here…"
Rio…"What?"
Jackal…Rio tensed. "Jackal…my brother. What do you want with him?"
I want him back…"Get him yourself." As he said this, a nauseating wave of pain overcame him, driving him to the floor. None of the others seemed to notice, but at least had the absent-minded courtesy to walk around his prone body.
Do not forget, young one…I own you…The pain instantly subsided, but Rio lie still, his eyes closed. "Yes…I know…"
Now go get him…"He escaped?"
A minor error on my part…he is smarter than I gave him credit for…but once I have him back…
He trailed off
"Why don't you just go get him yourself?"
Do not toy with me…you know I have no power on earth…
Rio bowed his head, which was difficult to do since it involved lifting it up off the ground. "I obey," he intoned
Another wave of pain hit Rio, numbing his body. His muscles tensed up, and he clenched his jaw until he thought his teeth would break. His view began to tinge with spots of black that slowly spread…until he couldn't see. Then he felt no more…
There…
~~~~~~~~~~~
"He never learns, does he?"
"Nope! How about we try and teach him again?"
"Sounds good."
Garam and Slate skated through the crowded streets of Benten-Cho, Onishima following at an ever-increasing distance behind him, futilely firing off bang-pellets in their direction. On a silent cue, the two rudies cut back, leaping onto the parallel rails of Benten Plaza and sliding towards the frantic chief of police. As they grinded past, they left in their wake a very mad, and suddenly very colorful, Kishimone Onishima.
~~~~~~~~
"Where did they say to meet again?" Cube asked, squinting into the distance.
"For the hundredth time, they said to meet under the Razechan sign!" Mew said impatiently, pointing up at the large billboard.
"Alright, alright. Don't get so iffy about it."
"Slate and Garam must've gotten held up or something. I'm sure they'll be here."
"They better."
Mew took a seat on the nearby bench, hugging her legs to her and resting her head on her knees. It was nights like this that made her mind wander. She often wondered what happened to the Inferno Jets. Rio. Was he OK? No, of course he wasn't. What a stupid question. Why was she even thinking about him? She hadn't known him for that long. He hadn't even said much to her. But…
"Hey!"
Mew was shaken out of her thoughts by Garam's voice. She looked up to see him and Tab skating slowly towards them. They looked tired…
"And just what happened to you two?" Cube asked with a smirk.
"We uh…ran into a little trouble with Stumpy," Garam said, grinning right back at her, "but we took care of it."
"Glad to hear it," Mew said, an annoyed look on her face, "now can we please get back? I need-"
"INCOMING!"
A rudie, adorned in red and black streaked past them, narrowly missing a collision with Cube. Close behind was none other than Stumpy himself.
"Get back here! …huh?" The police chief stopped suddenly, now in the midst of the assembled GGs.
"I couldn't have asked for a nicer gift," Cube said with a smile that seemed to cover half of her face.
"Uh…err…you're all under arrest!" Onishima waved his gun threateningly at them, "don't make me use this, punks!"
The four drew paint cans, shaking them up rhythmically, but never taking their eyes off Stumpy.
"Oh no…"
