This story is a re-imagining of DXD. More of an alternative timeline. Firstly, I didn't particularly enjoy the anime. However, I liked the characters and themes within it, and yeah.. The harem concept too. So, I'm gonna try my hardest to imitate the characters, while changing the characteristic and back story of Issei.

I'm going to attempt to make the story seem believable, writing in the format and style I enjoy reading. The main goal for this story is to improve how I can write and show the relationships between characters. This will probably then be more dialogue heavy over action and fight scenes. I aim to release a chapter each month and above all at least finish/sum up this story. I'll try to keep you as my reader informed of my progress in the bio section. And finally I ain't to sure whether I'm gonna right lemons, but who knows? Finally, this story's going to be blasted with spelling and grammar mistakes, I ain't going to fix them, so let's just leave them be.

If you have any ideas or criticism, please do leave them in the reviews, I ain't even sure of the direction for this story. But please enjoy.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. No copyright infringement is intended.*

Screaming, shrieking, pain, engulfed his room. It hurt to hear. The noise filtered out everything. Clearing his mind for a split second, cleansing his palate, before it was once again filled with his fears- that rolled around consistently at what felt like a million miles an hour. He could fell sick in his stomach. Felling it tingle against at the back of his neck. Sweat pooled around his body, dripping down his hair and and into his eyes, mixing with tears. They felt raw. His hand kept rubbing at them, only resulting in more irritation; as he rubbed the blood from his hands in. He could feel a headache coming on.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He didn't know what to do. Why should he? Wasn't his fucking fault. There was so much blood and somehow it was both sticky and slippery at the same time. It was fucking frustrating. It'd felt like only a couple seconds, yet it managed seep into everything. The blood had pooled, seeping its way into everything. For the rest of his life he'd have nightmares about the blood. He'd imagine it seeping slowly into the cracks in the floorboards and grouping on the ceiling of the room below. It would mix there. Staining the room in showers of blood, like a light rain. Then it would come crashing down- waking him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

If his friend would just stop moving for second he might be able to help him. But who was he kidding, he didn't know how to close a bullet wound. He couldn't even look at it. It sat there opening and closing as his friend moved, the blood seeping out. He tried to close the wound with his flames, but ended up burning the skin around the wound. It's also made him scream louder, scaring him. So he stopped. And so there he sat hunched over his friend coverd in his blood. He wriggled and screamed like slug in a collective of it's own shit.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He could hear sirens outside. Making him clench his jaw harder. Later he realise how much he'd tensed his muscles resulting in days of exhaustion. The sierens felt like clock counting down the time, making him retort back into his thoughts. He had no idea what to do. He thought he had when he'd brought his friend here. He couldn't remember how. His friend screamed louder as he moved, and he couldn't escape the thought of ending his misery, but he knew his time was short. He could hear voices and footsteps outside the door to his room. And as though it were gunshots hands began to ram and rattle the door, pushing the way in. It made him freeze, bringing him back into the room, which felt even more surreal.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His room was a mess. He'd carried his friend into the room, placing him on a sofa which was to small for him leaving him curled up in a ball. In his haste, he hadn't turned the lights on, and he hadn't pulled the cardboard from his single window, leaving the room encased in darkness. There he'd tried to seal his wound that lay on his friend's stomach, passing through to a much larger whole that ripped open his skin on his back. The exit hole of the bullet that'd left with explosive effect. The bullet was probably just sat back there in the alleyway. In reply to his friends increased screams, he'd sought to make him more comfortable. Going to his bed, and pulling the covers of, which lay in a messed pile. Doing so sent the lazy thrown items which lay there flying. X-rated magazines, beer cans and plastic bags filled with microwavable food- some empty other still full. Pulling his friend of the cigarette stained sofa and onto the bed, which now he lay almost motionless in, bar few twitches that were more like dying spasms.

"Issei.." the voice was low and fragile. "Issei, I'm. I'm dying." the voice began to sob, screams slowly becoming muffled. "Issei… help me…. please ." Slowly the twitching began to subside. The teens body lying motionless, Issei's closet friend lay dead.

Issei sat there at the boy's bedside. To Issei it was like a coffin, the boy lying motionless, curled into a ball like a child. Issei looked over the features of the boy, knowing it would be the last. His hair was buzzed close to his scalp and under the blood and sweat was a ghoulish and skinny figure. But his face seemed kind, even with no life behind it. Issei thought about how long he'd known the boy, where they met, conversations and good memories. Kaito, his name. The one person Issei could call a true friend. The one he let die.

"Fuck".

Issei's last words as the police outside his door pushed there way in. Firearms drawn shouting words of command, to the catatonic Issei. Medics running in behind, to late.