Jonathan couldn't keep his eyes open. He didn't want to sleep though. He still remembered the man in his dreams. The burn face and rude words scared him, even though Nae Nae told him that he wouldn't hurt him. The way the boogie man acted was scary. He trusted his Nae Nae, and she will be mad if he was up all day without a nap. He closed his eyes, and his breathing evened as he fell asleep.
Jonathan felt the heat seep into his skin, and started to sweat. His blue eyes opened to see the boiler room once more. Terror was on his face. His Nae Nae did lie. An evil chuckle was heard, and the loud screeching of metal against metal made his ears hurt.
Terrior waited till after the high of her kill wore off, then she went into hell. Jonathan should be talking a nap by now, giving her some time to think about the situation at hand. So far she was an unknown slasher, with many not caring to fight with her or meddle in her business. Most slashers are that way, only coming out of their hell in rare times. Some though, where aware of how much more powerful they were compared to many other creatures, and used it against them.
What where slashers is a common question. Slashers unlike demons where all human once, even if it was unknown. They also could have human emotions. Demons on the other hand where fallen angels, or the byproduct of two fallen or a human and a demon. Slashers are stronger because the bond with the powers where so unnatural, it used soul magic, the most powerful power there is. Terrior was briefly reminded of her human years as a child, but stopped. That was over now.
It was rare that a new slasher was made because of the risks. When they do it is even more rare when the others don't know about. The problem was the testing. Many slashers want to know how others were made, and fight them to see their weaknesses and strengths. This also could endanger Jonathan, her handsome Sparky. Terrior could handle fights, but could never get him hurt. Like it or not he was her only weakness. Well, there was one other...
Terrior had only been defeated once. A memory that she did not want to dwell upon. She had gotten her Sparky as a reward though. Her lovely Sparky. The last thing she had left of her world. Her human soul so damned that it was never coming back. Her death may have been unjust, but she made the choice of revenge. Of her first kill. The first time she pleased the elements. She will never be weak again. Only strong as she wished to be, with the souls flowing in her blood, the souls that drank of her body and ate of her flesh.
They didn't know it though. Her human body was dumped in the water tower that many drank from. That's how her victims are picked. She was always told to respect her elders, so the elderly was never killed unless they where a priests. She could kill children and teenagers who never respected her, or the elements. The teenagers never even cared how much they stole from the elements, how the water is in pain every time it is drank, or how the earth bleeds with each step they take. The beautiful elements go through it all, then even after they love humans.
That's the problem. The ignorant children pushed to far as to litter, or spit, or kill the creature just out of blood shed. It is fun killing them. Their heart to stops beating. The funny thing was where she put the remainder of the blood. The blood did nothing to the elements, just the humans soul. So most of the blood goes into the elements, but there last drops of blood goes into her, making her stronger. Only the last drops of blood is where the soul goes for humans.
The funny thing is most slashers don't know this. Most of them trap the soul, but with a piece of blood or the body they can be pulled back to life. That is reasons that some slasher can live on. They must have the last piece of blood destroyed for them to truly die or they can regenerate and come back to life. Terrior remembered the whispers about some slashers, one named Michael Myers. An enemy in the truest. And one other... John? Jamison? Jackson?
The memories came flooding back to her. Jason, one of the slashers who was involved in the fight. He fought the other, and they both ended up defeating each other. He was now one of the top slashers. No one dared to fight him, and for the most part he stayed in his hell. She was glad that she never seen him. Terrior didn't know who started the fight, but he was a hard enemy to defeated and she didn't want that kind of fight on her hands. Not when she was so new and has so less souls than many. Two Hundred? Not many compared to at least a thousand each seemed to have. She was weak, but slowly getting stronger.
This made her think of her current situation. She needed to know who she would talk to in hell to about it. Someone who would not snitch, someone who will know most slashers and their soul presents. Most where crossed off, maybe a higher class demon. She could offer souls to them, but that wont guarantee their silence. If they did decide to tell she could always kill them-
Before her thought was finished, a loud pop was heard. Terrior identified this "pop" as what some used to travel in hell. Some had other methods, relating to death but most low-grade slashers had the "pop" sound. Others, more powerful can do it silently, or what their ability is consisted of. Terrior had a mix, silent but as well relating to her death.
Terrior knew better than to make eye contact with any one if she wanted to stay alive. Other signs gave her the answer without putting her self at risk. A low-grade slasher would not stop all the chit-chat in the bar, only because some of the demons could fight and might kill the lower grade so they do not have to risk it. This showed her that an older, more powerful one must be present. His transportation could have not been heard. Two slashers.
Terrior stoop up and closed her eyes. This was much of a risky situation taking place to stay here. Her sparky must be finished with his nap by now as well. Closing her eyes she pictured her white doorway. The center bell on her jesters hat ringed, causing a chain reaction of mist and a fresh forest sent to surround her. Soon her body started to fade away.
"Hey bitch", a loud manly voice shouted. She stopped and froze. Thinking, her mind went a million miles per hour. If she ignored him then he would pay more attention to her but if she talked to him... She cleared her mind as she felt the wind blow through her hair.
"Yea", Terrior let her instincts take over. The bell on the right side twitched. The souls in the bell gave her power, her rage boiling out of the surface. She would slaughter him if he tried anything.
Terrior could almost here the man sneer, "Watch where your going. You're gonna get your ass kicked."
Terrior's cheek spilt wide open, her hair ripping as well, "By who?" she took a step forward, "A week slasher like you?"
"Fuck you!", the man yelled. She heard the air from a blade as she reacted instantly.
Terrior turned around, and iron grip as her hand grabbed his through. She could scene his fear. Oh, so delicious fear. The elements would be pleased. A bell started ripping through the palm of her hand, old blood pooling from it. The mans eyes widened. As the bell came out, the knife from her last kill was created. Her smiled widened. The earth wanted his soul.
Her hand came up as she slashed his thought. She whispered in her horse voice, "Don't mess with me." The blood he carried spilled, her knife soaking up the souls that we're begging for release. The souls in their blood where now the earths, damming her even more.
The man, who she know seen had a mask on. The mask looked like a ghost, but stretched longer. Pitiful what a slasher had come to. "Slasher" the man gasped out, bleeding more. Terrior didn't take all the souls, for if she killed him she would make more enemy's than stealing some of the souls.
Terrior sat back down, her knife going back into her skin, and a little bell rang again. There was only one way to kill a slasher truly. That was to take all of there souls, including their own, and absorb it. No hero could do that. Only the truly damned.
"Ghost Face was week child.", called a deeper voice. She recognized this voice immediately. Pin Head, also known as Zipe Toxic. The favorite son of the leader of all hell. The strongest slasher. "It's been ten years since the last slasher"
Terrior made the best unthreatening voice she could without sounding week, "I've been around long enough" The pins sticking out of his snow-white grid head did not scare her, but let her have more respect for him.
Pin Head raised an imaginary eyebrow, for the fact he had no hair at all, "May I ask your rank childlike sir?" She could scene his curiosity flying off him, only then hearing the bar being deathly quite.
Terrior made a dry, cold laugh, "I'm a girl" She looked up at his eyes.
He sensed her disrespect as not a respect issue, but a protection of sorts. Pin Heads pale blue eyes meeting her disfigured hazel ones. He nodded shortly, the silent message going through, give me something I want in return. "When you wish for information, come"
Terrior watched him walk to the front of the bar. She watched him close his eyes. She felt the raw pure power surround him before she spoke up, "I need information."
He stops, not surprised. He was expecting this. "What kind?"
She looked at the blood of Ghost Face, the weakling on her hands. This blood could be anyone's, hold anyone's soul. But it would never be her John John's. "Someones trying to take whats mine. I need his rank and who he is."
Pin Head smirked, "And in return?" This was the closest of a deal with a devil as she could get, but her soul was already gone and dead so there was no harm for her.
Terrior smiled her cheek spitting smile, "You'll get information on me. Rank, number. Something reasonable." Not her weaknesses, she added silently.
He nods, "Very Well" He offers a hand to her, since she was a woman after all. She took it, and went to the heart of hell all for her Sparky.
Jonathan called, wishing for all his heart to wake up. Why isn't she coming? He has run from the man for ever. "Nae Nae..."
Freddy suddenly appeared in front of him, "Guess who wanted to play?"
