This is a bit of a change from my norm. So I apologize if the quality isn't quite as high as my other stories. Still. I've wanted to done of these for a while. Be warned to any new readers. There's a reason my stories are M rated... blood and swearing... blood and swearing
He groaned.
Was this what death felt like?
It wasn't what he expected in the least.
He'd thought it'd be a flash of pain then nothingness. Or maybe just nothing at all.
This. This hurt like a bitch... probably because it had been inflicted by a bitch. Fucking hell Yuuma. Did she have to stab him so hard?
His eyes weakly moved to the hole in his chest and the spear in the hole. A glowing spear made from what he assumed was light. It was rather poetic really.
He. Desmond. A follower of God. Was struck down by a spear of light... well fuck God. Asshole hadn't done much for him. He hadn't even gotten a 'life flashing before his eyes' moment yet.
Of course as soon as he thought that the moment occured.
He saw the car crash. The smell of burning rubber still fresh in his nose.
The hospital monitors beeped away. A constant reminder of his mortality.
He felt the relief when he found out his parents were okay.
The horror when he saw the scar across his eye from the glass shards of the window.
The odd feeling of wrongness when his sister had returned. Gone for twelve years without a hint of contact only to return a year ago.
The sharp stabbing sensation when the spear hit his flesh. The burning pain as it drilled through his chest and out the other side.
He laughed quietly as blood leaked from his mouth. It was a shame really. His life wasn't long enough for him to even get a girlfriend... well one that wasn't a S&M whore with wings... his mind grew fuzzy but he remembered the wings. Feathered and black. So dark light itself seemed to be drawn into the falling feathers.
A strange bolt of colour shot through his red stained vision. A bolt of green and silver melted together into a symphony of shades. The symphony became a whirlpool and he felt a strange pull as the whirlpool became a fuzzy shape... It looked like a distorted person.. his head snapped back and he saw the white of ceiling as his body jerked upright.
Ugh... lucid dreams are the worst... fucking overactive imagination...uhhh...
He held his head for a moment and sighed as the needles of ice in his brain faded away. Once his headache was gone he stretched his limbs and got out of bed while popping a few joints in his shoulders. He let out a yawn as he freshened up for the day and once he had his uniform he glanced at himself in the mirror.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw his reflection.
There was a fucking bird in the mirror
A humanoid bird.
He stared at the mirror and made out a few things about it's figure. It had the head of a hawk. Blue feathers and two strong looking arms. Two wings came out of its back made with various colours of feathers that changed their shade every time he blinked. It stood on two equally strong legs and had it's arms were crossed as it looked at him. It's head was shaking in a disappointed pattern as it disappeared and he was met with his significantly more human appearance.
His grey hair was combed neatly to the side.
His shirt was freshly ironed.
His pants were spotless.
His skin wasn't perfect. But he'd gotten use to it. It didn't have the hyper healthy tan most people sported these days. It was a tad paler. Though he'd been told it brought out his eyes... A striking cyan in contrast to his hair. Hell he'd been told his face was perfect for his intense gaze.
He didn't think so.
The scar being the main reason.
His felt his confident smile drop and saw it in his reflection as his gaze centered on the black mark on his face. The scar ran from the top of his eyebrow down to just under his eye.
A constant reminder of Murphy and his enjoyment at ruining his life.
He glared at his reflection and let out a huff as he turned away.
Self pity wasn't something he was entitled too.
He'd changed. He was happier now.
He slapped his cheek lightly and walked out the door to his room... and then fell face first down the stairs.
He got back up and felt an odd feeling settling in the center of his chest. He couldn't tell what it was but he likened it to a sense of Deja vu. Except a thousand times more potent.
"Desmond! Breakfast is ready!"
"Thanks Mum!"
He let out a yawn halfway into his shout as he traversed the insanely long corridors that made up the first floor.
Seriously. The damn place was like a maze. One he'd gotten use to after a while but a maze nonetheless.
Eventually he settled into a seat at the large dining table and let his head hit the table as a wave of exhaustion hit him in the face.
Odd. I just woke up. I can't be this tired already.
The sound of ceramic being gently placed on the table made him look up, he saw his mother looking at him before laughing and shaking her head. Her auburn hair following the gesture as she smirked.
"How is it that you manage to comb all your hair but still leave a strand as a cowlick? That I will never understand"
He glanced at his reflection in the window and groaned as he went to work fixing his hair with his hand. Four minutes of strenuous effort went by with little to no results and he eventually gave up on having it perfect as he went about scoffing down breakfast. He was halfway through when a new voice reached his ear.
"Want me to help you with that? You look atrocious little bro."
He sent a small glare in the direction of his sister. A six foot, well matured source of consistent annoyance with auburn hair like his mother. He merely shook his head as she pulled out a comb from thin air.
"Sash, even if I say no you'll do it yourself... so be my guest."
It was somewhat frustrating attempting to eat food while someone moved your head in various directions. He managed but it wasn't easy.
"Done. What d'ya think?"
He looked at his reflection again. Then shrugged.
"Eh it'll do."
"Geeze show some gratitude why don't ya."
He looked at her as she sat down. The business suit clutching her body tightly... why did he notice that first?
"Gratitude and you are not two things that don't go together. Ever."
She sent something that looked like a mix between a glare and a pout in his direction and he rolled his eyes as he finished up the scraps.
"You wonder why you never get a girlfriend? Because here it is right here."
He felt a half cocky half proud smirk cross his face as her comment left her mouth.
"Well to tell you the truth... I did kinda get asked out on a date for today."
The shattering of ceramic sounded from the kitchen and he felt a feeling of dread for a moment as his mother appeared. Her eyes flashing dangerously for a moment as she sat down between the two of them.
"You did did you? And when exactly were you planning on telling your dear mother?"
He didn't fail to notice the worrying amount of malice her words held even if she was saying them as normally as she could. His sister merely looked on with a hint of mischief and an annoying amount of enjoyment.
"Well... I probably might've possibly told you yesterday if I hadn't known you'd react like this."
"How am I reacting? I don't see anything wrong with looking after my little boy."
He heard the snickering from his sister and glared at her.
"Mum. Your being overprotective already. Let me at least feel what it's like to suffer a breakup or something to that extent before you do this... please."
He could see her weighing her options. Time seemed to slow around him for a split second. The dust slowly traversed his field of view and once it was out of it he saw her blink and smile.
"Hmm... we will see... I expect good news when you get back."
He let out a sigh as he nodded his head. A conversation began between his mother and sister and he said his goodbyes as he walked to the door, grabbing his bag along the way. School was about an hours jog from the house but he never really noticed it. Besides, exercise was always useful.
He glanced down at himself as he ran. He wasn't exactly buff like those muscle builders or movie stars. Though he supposed higher then average would fit as an apt descriptor. Not too much muscle to make him unattractive but not too little to make him look scrawny. It was probably why he'd kept receiving so many damn love letters. Of course he'd never opened them... He was going through a phase of his life that he'd rather forget... ugh the black clothing and cynical outlook on life... ugh... He shook his head and cleared his head. He focused back on running and looked ahead.
Let's try getting there in 20 minutes.
Clockwork Engine- Loop
Worst. Idea. Ever.
The words kept repeating in his head as he stood next to one of the sakura trees. His arm was outstretched and holding him up as he controlled his breathing.
New plan. Never try to shorten an hour jog into a twenty minute sprint while carrying a heavy as balls bag.
Something plastic hit him in the face and he looked down at the object to see it was a clear drink bottle. He looked back up and saw the perpetrator walking up to him while shaking his head and laughing.
"You look like you fought a dragon. Then got your ass handed to you while you ran from the top of its mountain. "
"Fuck. You. " he picked up the drink bottle and paced out his attempts to finish the thing in one go.
"You're welcome by the way."
He let his shoulder rest on the bark and used a thumbs up as a reply.
"So whatcha gonna do with Yuuma? That was her name right?"
He nodded as he finished catching his breath and passed the bottle back to the guy.
Mitch Walküre was his name. One of the infuriatingly annoying kings of the school. And oddly enough his friend... He still had zero clue as to how that had happened. His midnight black hair and slight tan only added to the appeal that was his almost permanent smirk. The guy literally never did anything else.
"Yeah. That was her." He mentally recoiled for a minute as his mind remembered his dream.
The spear of light after her question.
The burning sensation as it pierced his body.
The flash of silver and green.
He started minutely as the world came back into focus and he saw Mitch moving his hand in front of his face.
"Yo. Des? Buddy? You still there?"
He blinked and that got him to stop.
"Yeah sorry... just remembered a weird dream I had."
"Good weird or bad weird?"
He deadpanned.
"The type where your girlfriend turns out to be an angel with black wings-"
"Good weird then."
"-and then stabs you through the gut with a spear made of pink light."
He saw Mitch blink his green eyes as he processed the second half of his dream.
"Okayy... so it was bad weird then gotcha... this a recurring thing?"
He shook his head. Mitch let out a hum as the bell for classes rung and they walked towards the room.
"Maybe it's one of those nightmares that reflect your inner stress or something? What was she wearing?"
He focused for a moment.
"A strange bdsm outfit..."
He heard a sigh from Mitch as he shook his head and then a laugh.
"We need to get you laid man. I really do."
He rose an eyebrow but shook his head in rejection as he opened the door. The conversations stopped altogether for a moment before they resumed and he walked over to his seat before sitting down. He made small talk with a few of the girls who walked up to him and glared at the guys who glared at him. Pretty much to norm for him... The odd feeling returned when class started.
He'd learned the same things in his dream.
The exact same things. Each and every equation. Each and every word. All of them were the same. It was the weirdest moment of his day so far.
Was he fucking psychic?
No. He couldn't read people's minds... maybe clairvoyant? He supposed it worked.
He focused for a moment as the teacher continued and he recalled what the teacher would do in a few minutes.
The clock ticked away and when he looked back the teacher was doing exactly what they'd done down to the tapping of her foot as she drew notes on the board.
It was a peculiar scenario that was only made worse when school ended. He saw Yuuma waiting at the front gate. The same smiling expression and clothing as she wore on the date in his dream. He held his hands behind his back as he walked to hide his for clenched fist.
He only began to feel this new feeling as time progressed. A sense of complacency, safety even as he walked with her. In the back of his head he knew that if his future predicting thing was real them they'd go to a cafe before going to the park and his inevitable doom.
Though his prediction broke once they left the cafe. She suggested they watch a movie. He smiled and nodded while hiding the strange sense of nervousness in the back of his head. Her choice wasn't a bad one he had to admit. If she was an angel that wanted him dead then she'd done at least a small amount of research on him. It wasn't some sappy love story or tearjerking tragedy. No it was something with loud music and equally large fights. A good film by his standards. Generic but good.
He had completely forgotten about his prediction but it all came back to him as she looked up at the fountain in the center of the park.
"Hey Desmond... Will you die for me?"
The wings appeared. Even darker then his dream predicted. Even sharper then his dream predicted. Equally as terrifying as his dream predicted.
The fact he'd experienced this twice now lessened the surprise enough for his body to move. A pink spear of light shot through the air and barely missed his chest as he twisted. The heat scorched his clothes and burned his skin but he paid it no mind as he sprinted. He managed to get about ten meters before a familiar burning sensation tore through his back. The spear tip came out of his chest and he weakly dragged himself against the floor in a vain attempt to gather more distance between the angel and himself. A pair of heels shut down his escape as they landed in front of him and he felt her soft hand cup his face as she brought it up to look at her. He managed to glare.
"That's a scary look. For a dead man. If you want to hate someone then hate the god that put that sacred gear inside you"
His mind rationalized that this 'sacred gear' thing was special. A second spear appeared and he felt it cut him in half as his eyes shot open.
He breathed and stared at the white of his ceiling.
Another dream.
He slowed his ragged breathing and let himself fall back down onto the bed. A sense of exhaustion covered his face in a mask but he fought through it and pushed himself to his feet. His shoulders popped and he quickly freshened up for the day... again. He made sure he was as well dressed as he had been before and looked at the mirror. The bird was back. It's unblinking eyes stared at him as it shook it's head.
He didn't pay it any attention as he opened the door and walked out. He caught himself before he fell down the stairs and managed to get down the spiralling pillar without falling. He heard the same call for breakfast and he replied as he had before while glancing at his watch. He froze when he saw the date. He quickly looked at the one on the wall and then back at his watch. The hands on his watch were spinning at breakneck pace. So fast he was afraid to touch it in case he broke it. The dials slowed down and he watched as they froze on exactly one.
His mind whirled as he sat down and scoffed down breakfast exactly as he had in his two previous dreams. He had the same conversation as the dream before and he even heard the shattering dish at the exact second to where his previous dream had it happen. The feeling of extreme wrongness returned when all the clocks started spinning. They all stopped on one and when he mentioned to the others they asked if he was feeling alright.
A vibe similar to that of a horror film settled on his person and he smiled as he shrugged and mentioned a headache he didn't have. He then quickly said goodbye and walked quickly out the door.
His mind couldn't comprehend what was happening but it knew one thing for sure. It was definitely not normal.