2. Earl of the Millenium

It seemed as if ages had passed since Mana's death. Allen had sat quietly overlooking Mana's funeral service held in the tiny, local chapel. Only a few people had attended, but Allen had tried his best to stare expressionlessly as not to appear a helpless, bawling, nuisance. He had the small, foolish hope that perhaps, one of Mana's friends (Mana had no known living family) might sympathize him and take him in as their own child. But not one did. Allen watched them exit the church and waved at them as they went. Some waved akwardly back. Some stared at him. Most walked away quickly, not looking at him. When Allen realized everyone had gone and not one person had approached him, he ran from the burial and burst into tears.

Now he had nowhere to go except live homeless on the streets of Chelsea, searching for food. It was much like before, before Mana, except so much lonelier. He'd known loneliness before, but it was nothing compared to now- a cold, hard emptiness at the pit of his stomach that ached and raged all day and night without so much as a hug or whisper of reassurance for a cure.

"It's Allen Walker. The poor little circus freak whose sick clown father died."

Allen looked up. Hovering over him were the faces of several of the mean kids who hung around the streets of Chelsea. They were all in their preteens, common street kids not any higher than Allen himself, excluding age. Still, they acted as if they were heirs to lords, snooty and selfish. Their expressions were sneer, menacing.

"Don't say that about Mana! Or else!" Allen threatened. He winced. He wasn't convincing this gang, let alone, himself.

One of them made a motion as if to harm him. He flinched, and fell to the hard stone beneath. They snickered, and their voices began to torment him to the very near degree of insanity.

"No one's left to love you now, Allen," one began.

"You can't find a family with that ugly deformity of an arm," hissed another.

"You against the world. Alone, forever," a kid added.

"He would've abandoned you sooner or later."

And so on:

"No one desires you."

"You're a filthy little animal."

"You'll die, Allen."

"Mana must be happy in heaven to have you off his back."

Allen wiped tears off his cheeks with his mittened hand.

"He never loved you," they all jeered.

"Stop it! Let me be!" Allen cried. He jumped to his feet and pushed one of them away and began to run off. He went off like the wind, the rush of the air pressing against his chest, panting to the rhythym of his pumping legs. He felt the urge to glance back, but he did not.

Allen fled to the graveyard. He collapsed at Mana Walker's grave, and cried all over again. He was confused, and lonely. He had depended on Mana for so much. He had been his only family, and had died protecting him. Allen had been greatly indebted to him. But now Mana was gone, and it was Allen's fault completely.

"You want me to revive Mana Walker?" a too sugary-sweet voice suggested from above Allen.

Allen lifted his head up and saw the large form of an

uncanny gentleman in a top hat and yellow jacket. His tall face was grotesque and unreal, with a pair of unwelcoming amber eyes that were scary enough to be six instead of two. A long nose, a pointed chin, and a wide, fake grin that seemed permanently forced onto his face completed his features. His skin was grey-toned; he was fat.

Allen ignored the strange man's unappealingness. "You can . . . do that?" His heart swelled.

"Of course," the man said in his husky voice, dripping honey. "All you have to do is call out to Mana's soul from that detestable God, and he'll come back!"

Allen eyed the creepy man. His expression was the same: false, eerie glee. The only things that moved on his face were his eyes, searching the boy hungrily for an answer.

Allen believed him. "Yes!" he cried. "Bring Mana back!"

A skeleton- a set of fake human bones appeared dissasembled in front of him. Allen didn't quite understand, but evidently the strange man did. He ordered Allen to call his father's name.

Allen felt an emotion at the pit of his stomach, but it wasn't loneliness. Was it fear? Guilt? No! Allen had to do it. He didn't know what his instincts were telling him, but he had to save Mana, bring him back.

"Well, go on child!" the strange man encouraged. "You want to revive your father as soon as possible, eh?"

YES. Yes, he did.

He took a deep and shaky breath in. He closed his eyes, and his heart took a leap. Mana, Allen thought desperately, please be saved. Please.

"MAAAAAAAAAANAAAAAAAH!!!"

he screamed.

A bolt of neon violet lightning struck the lifeless manaquinn in front of Allen. He shielded his eyes in fear that they might burn if he so much as glanced.

When he felt it safe to look, Allen uncovered his eyes.