The Others: Odd Happenings
Disclaimer: Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Systems, and TV Tokyo. All names were changed to the characters of this fandom in order to protect the real people involved in the following incidents.
Sixth Page: Divinity
He wasn't human. That much was obvious. There was no way that that being was a man, a person, a human. No way. No way at all.
It was how he looked. He wasn't someone you could just ignore. There was something about him that just drew your eyes to him. You just had to pay attention to him. Tall, dark, and handsome, but that wasn't why. He was tall, yes, tall enough that he could look over all the heads in the crowd. He was dark, yes, with an aura around him that made people move aside for him in the streets. He was handsome, yes, and not just to the woman - though many of the men would be hard pressed to admit that.
But that wasn't it. There was something else, something more to him.
His eyes. They weren't black or blue. They weren't green or brown. They weren't the deepest of hazel or the faintest of greys. They were red. Not blood red. Not bright red. Demonic. Hellish. Wrong.
His hair, white like bone. His skin, dark like wet clay. His teeth, snake-like and fanged. His tongue, forked and slick and bait to a trap, sliding across lips laced with poison.
Wrong. Not human at all.
It was how he walked. His stride was beyond confident. Beyond arrogant, beyond egotistical, beyond narcissistic. His gait, were he a woman, would be almost seductive, like a wealthy escort for a king - but no, this man would not settle for a mere king, which was why those words would do nothing to fully described something as captivating as this man's steps.
He didn't march. He didn't amble. He didn't canter or lumber or pace. He stalked. He haunted. He pursued.
He hunted. What human hunts other men?
It was how he spoke. His words flowed in riddles and rhymes, like a secret code only he knew. They flowed like oil over water, from the back of his throat to the skin of his mouth and into the ear. They were mocking, down putting, and harsh. He didn't sugar coat. He didn't soften their effect. He went for the kill.
His voice was broken yet whole. Filled with prophecy and wisdom, destruction and carnage. Filled with death and death and more death. He spoke of worlds long since passed and in voices long since gone. Impossible things, his words were. Impossible, impossible things.
What manner of being could ever know of such things?
Only a god.
But this god - not a man, you stupid fool, for how could he be but a man - was not a Father. He was not a benevolent Lord. He was the shadows at night, the monster in the corner of your eye. The thing behind your back, breathing down your neck. He was the last sound, the last sight your would ever see.
He was not merciful. He was not kind. He was not love. He was not forgiveness. He was not light.
He was darkness itself.
A Dark God.
Hello again.
I'd like to thank those who reviewed for the last page: zukofan2005, InsanityByDefinition, ilovemanicures, and Aqua girl 007. Yes, I know how weird I am. Thank you for putting up with that last page because I still don't know where it came from.
After almost a month of no updates, I post three in one week? I have no explanation, other than maybe my writer's block was merely a writer's dam and now the ideas are coming crashing down on me.
Until next time,
AlcatrazOutpatient