Hey guys... So my lateness... See what happened was.
My computer crashed and I was actually a couple chapters ahead and *Bloop* Three weeks of my life vanishes into thin air.
Plus I has 2 jobs and school. So I'm not going to be posting as frequently as before. But This fic is not going to stop. "I shall see it to the very end." lol Death. Anyways,
ONTO LE STORY!
"Her wounds have healed." Genevieve slowly and hazily squints open her eyes to a dark and raspy voice in her right ear. It doesn't sound old, just vulgar and sickly, even perverse. Catching a blur of a familiar pale skinned rider. His stance is cautious with his back to the disoriented woman. The orange glow of the shotgun that nearly murdered him is strapped loosely to his side closer to her. He appears to be speaking to a beast floating upright with a foggy blue hue of smoke about it. She believes it's another ghoul and prepares to begin kicking and throwing punches. But before she could raise a wrist, she realizes the difference in tinge this creature resonated. His height is different as well, having three feet over the horseman whom she already calls a giant. The devil floats legless with two bandaged meaty wings stilly keeping him afloat. Or at least that is what she trusts it to be, she wouldn't be surprised if the Grim Reaper had close ties with Lucifer. As they turn to her, she closes her eyes and feigns unconsciousness. She hears the voice again as the oversized imp leans in. "I believe that I have held my end of the bargain. And you do hold two rather expensive gems that would suffice perfectly." The monster's horns lean farther in, their jagged tips almost touching her forehead. At the contact of icy gold casing his fingers, she snaps.
"Step off you ugly creep!" Genevieve cracks awake. Raising a large boot to the merchant's face. Rocketing her foot into his sharp and boney cheekbone. The monster retreats backward with a hiss and holds his face in his large hands overlapping with expensive rings. She moves quickly, swiping her shotgun from Death's holster and at the hunching demon in the next. Death lunges for her, but misses by the tiniest hair to her swift dodge. The demon raises his head to the dark stare of an enchanted twelve gauge pointed between his glowing green eyes.
"Don't you dare fucking touch me again, you hear me!?" Genevieve barks with fearsome eyes beaming down the barrel to the demon on the other end.
Strangely, he holds his grin amid a face that read, "This will work in my favor." All over his sunken in, noseless, dead lilac colored face.
"Genevieve, no!" Death defends, "Vulgrim is an ally!" Genevieve reluctantly pulls back the gun, with the sourest of scowls as she lowers it to her side. Vulgrim returns his stance from the impact. His ripped kilt advertising many bottles, emblems and jewelry clinks as he moves. Gliding over to a glowing blue portal that match the intertwining smoke at his invisible feet.
"Well," Vulgrim chirps to the rider as he examines the third kingdom spawn. "It seems that humans of the third kingdom have more… robust introductions. How is your eye?" Genevieve chuffs at the comment but feels her eye. Remarkably, it works perfectly as before, but not as perfectly intact. She felt along slit of a scar that runs from above her eyebrow to the middle of her cheek.
"But I have kept my word of reviving her, horseman." He holds his hand bejeweled with rare rings with colorful sheening gems unlike any rocks seen by human kind residing fashionably about his clawed hands. "My payment."
Death throws the sky colored vial carelessly a few feet and into the demons palms. He catches it with a clank of the contact with the expensive metals and cups it warmly, cradling the vial as if it were the most precious thing in all the worlds of creation combined. Hastily, he pops off the cap and thousands of airless screams fill the musty cavern air, making Vulgrim's sinful chuckle grow louder and maniacal. His head falls backward as his jaw hangs low, sucking the vial's contents like an overpowered vacuum. Genevieve's organs churn heatedly inside her as she watches the flourish of tortured souls terminate within a single wheeze. She clenches her gun tightly at the handle and her trigger happy forefinger aches to tug the trigger in his direction.
Though, her fiery explosive isn't raised to the demon's face, a gauntlet covers Genevieve's tensing hand before she could. Holding it as it wrapped about the large barrel. Genevieve brought her look upward to the horseman looking to the gun. There is a solemn look in his eyes and Genevieve read it like an open book.
"You don't have to." He mumbles. Stippled loose hands slip from the barrel by formidable steel gantlets tugging it slowly. "I will not allow you to stain your hands of such unworthy blood."
"My hands have always been stained Death," Genevieve says honestly, taking the gun back into her hands and Death's claws detach. "And their only gonna get worse."
The last wailing soul is sucked into Vulgrim's esophagus. Even after the delicious meal of life that he consumed, the demon merchant scowls. He looks at the empty bottle intently as he turns it over shakes for possible remaining souls. "You're short." He says in disappointment.
"Four thousand souls were in that phial, demon." Death scorns, "That was the price we agreed on as I recall." Genevieve gulps, thinking of how much life it cost to keep her own.
"Four thousand was for one vial, and to pull that human from her deathly state took. . . "Vulgrim guides his claws near the stone to a pile of broken glass and metal braces of once dozens of potions. Death had ran through all of them to desperately keep his protected alive. "Let us just agree that you went through an expensive lot. Plus with the damages due to the human's aggressiveness," Vulgrim's grin returns, lightly holding his green and purple splotch blooming on his pointed cheekbone with a couple of fingers. "I intend to collect double."
The Reaper swore in the sound of a gravely hiss, thinking through what he could possibly sell to him to pay his debt. He could have gone through tens of dozens of vials, which mean he could be hundreds of thousands of souls in debt. And that price has doubled from the Genevieve's defense. He has glit, but a merchant such as Vulgrim has no use for such flavorless currency. He doesn't dare to become indebted to a being denied from even the vilest pits of hell.
"But I could erase your crippling debt, rider. On one condition of course." Death's eyes rise to the demon. His smiling teeth illuminated with the clouded blue gas of the portal beneath him. "Your financial uncertainties will be forgotten. I only ask for a mere piece of the girl's essence. A survivable payment." He assures. He leaves his place upon the portal and his body swims through the air to Genevieve with her face contorted with the grimmest look her fair face could perform. "Think of all of the souls you are saving from my hands," Vulgrim persuades skillfully. "Hundreds of thousands of souls can be saved from tyranny. For only the price of just one." The human's dirty look fades much to the merchant's liking as he stresses his final word.
"If you plan on collecting the girl's soul, you are dreadfully mistaken." Death disagrees dryly, "She isn't up for trade."
"Actually. . ." Genevieve shrugs sheepishly. "I could be." The Nephillim and the merchant gape at the woman in question, then at each other. Their looks differentiating with the demon's grin pinning high with a green splotch glowing painfully below his eye.
"Then it is settled!" The demon merchant announces happily, floating whimsically about the air to Genevieve's side.
"I shall not grant consent to this!" The grim reaper objects with a boom. Standing between the two as a barrier from the demon. "Her soul is hers to keep!"
"It's my fault you're in this mess," Genevieve says to the pale rider. Her voice growing slightly nervous as Vulgrim forges closer. "It's only fair I get you out of it."
"She has spoken, Rider. And her mouth is not your own to govern. Come, young one." Vulgrim holds out his golden knuckled claws welcomingly, as if holding it would essentially make her feel comfortable. "This will be painless act of kindness, I assure you." Genevieve gawks at the hand momentarily and then takes the hand in hers without question. The merchant snickers perversely under his breath and tugs her moderately to the serpent hole.
"Where do you believe you're going?" Death growls, withdrawing his scythes halfway but remaining at the holsters.
"Ah- ah!" Vulgrim whistles, holding a clawed forefinger to the indebted warrior. "No following, this is a matter of business that should be achieved between only us." He sneers to the girl more silent than she's ever been, unfazed by his scorn. "I don't want her to back out last second with the help of your scythes. But do not worry your comely little head..." They continue to the portal, passing Death who brings himself alongside her to the portal.
"Genevieve, you don't have to do this," Death argues. "You will only know regret if you barter with this blood drawing vermin. Your soul isn't worth that."
"Oh, Horseman." Vulgrim coos into their conversation holding his bruised cheek in his free palm. "I would never have known you were capable of such generous vocabulary."
"If this gets your forgiveness back," Genevieve says with her back to the horseman as her feet phases over the bluish-white spirals of smoke with each step to the platform. "Then it will be."
With that expressed, Death ceases his following and pulls back from persuading her any further. Reluctantly allowing the two to reach the mouth of the serpent hole. The light flashes with a flourish of blue that consumes them. Genevieve turns her head and looks the rider in the eyes for the first time since the Eternal Throne. The scar down her face creases as her eyes smile at him and her lips softly follow. Remembering the same drooping eyes in that look that he bears now. The light wraps loosely about her torso that dissipate in the transport. Reaching her face, her grin disappears into this air as she leaves to do business with the black merchant.
". . . I will return her shortly." Vulgrim's last words dissipate as the two disappear in the musty cavern air. The swirls of light disappear entirely. Leaving Death alone with the only the sounds of Vulgrim's chimes twinkling through the moaning wind. Death leans on the slab of rock that held Genevieve arisen with his arms folded. Amber eyes never leaving the now lightless pedestal of a dormant serpent hole. Alone to beseech to a woman he had sworn to protect for her payload. But now believes the care has slightly shifted for her soul.
"Be safe, young mortal."
The merchant swims in circles about the girl in the center. Standing stoically on a broken bridge hovering glumly over an endless abyss of night. Circling again and again about her. Sensual oohs and ahhs whisper to her skin with gazes similar to a starving man gazing at a three course meal.
"You are simply delicious, my dear." The merchant whispers from behind her ear. "I can sense it you know, your soul." His plated fingers claw softly across her back as he examines her. "I can see it through those crystal eyes of yours, I can smell it, how it's bled unto your clothes and sweat through your brow." His voice gets even closer, vibrating off the small of her neck. "And I can feel it with every breath that you breathe. It is all simply. . ." He takes a large whiff of her hair heavy enough to fill his lungs the scent of blood, sweat, and tears that have dried unto her skin.
". . . Intoxicating." He sighs gruffly.
"J-just get it over with already!" Genevieve blurts out irritably high enough to echo the abyss.
"Nervous?" Vulgrim chuckles, leaving her neck and floats facing her. "Don't be afraid. This will not pain you." His long hands clench her arms, binding them to her sides. His mouth gapes open and his breath pulls inward. Genevieve feels lightheaded as her breath transfers brutally to become his. Then something shines white and neon gold between them in the brightest of pure white and yellow. Flying by the light years from Genevieve's throat and snuffs out like frozen darkness consuming a lively fire.
Vulgrim's head jolts backward almost violently at the soul parchment's impact and holds himself there. Exhaling in a guttural tone as he savors the light, sweet and orgasmic flavor of life layering his tongue. His claws loosen as he savors the sugared aftertaste, letting Genevieve to crumble to the floor as he tries to recollect himself.
"What… What did you do to me?" Genevieve instigates tiresomely as she barely raised her head from the glowing blue insignias that cover the floor.
"You have given me a taste of your soul, thus forming us into a pact. When you meet your quite timely demise, your soul will return for me to devour. So travel carelessly my dear, I impatiently await your life to return to me so I may take you whole." He clenches his fist. Genevieve's amulet brightens and smolders hot but unlike any burning anger that fumes from Genevieve's face.
"S-son of a bitch!" Genevieve jumps to her feet pulls out her shotgun and aims it into the demon's face. She pulls the trigger and experiences no kickback at the blast bright enough to be a furious sun in the black abyss. Vulgrim slides through the air and dodges the explosive round. Only taking a jug on his belt that explodes from the small, fiery shrapnel. The shot vaporizing a far away levitating slab of stone who's contents fall to the night below. Genevieve cocks the gun but Vulgrim grabs her before she could aim again. He twists her arm to her back and she trills sharply. Her voice flickers to a quiet growl and grits her teeth.
"You said nothing about no pact you conniving blue sack of shit!"She interrupts herself with a scream as Vulgrim presses her arm in near it's breaking point. "I'll break that soul sucking mouth of yours and bury you so no one can hear your screams! I swear on it!"
"Oh please, hinder your certainties and kind names, my love." Vulgrim twists her from the stone and throws her hard to the crumbling bridge. Emaciated faces spiral into the air from the cracked vial and pass his jagged smile. "But I am only a humble merchant."
Death still waits patiently in the cave having moved not one muscle. The ribbons of blue light resume on the serpent hole in the shape of the demon and the human at his side. When the portal returns them entirely, Genevieve stomps down the steps and past the Reaper.
"The debt has been paid, Rider." The demon announces smugly. "And quite the transaction it was."
"Then our business is done." Death rudely concludes.
Death watches the girl walking towards him, her face furious, humiliated even. "Genevieve are you. . ."
"You heard him, Skullface." Genevieve spits walking past Death. Her voice humbles as she leaves the room of the long cave. "Let's get out of this shithole." She disappears into the hole to the small light of the exit far down the hall. Death agrees silently and follows her. He stops when he feels cold metal claws touch his forearm.
"Before you go, pale rider, a word?" Vulgrim beseeches. Reluctantly, Death stops his following.
"What is it this time?" Death spits, Vulgrim's bare teeth smirk behind the rider as he further clenches the rider's shoulder. Death's eyes flare as his eyebrows scrunch.
" I must commend you for such a valiant child of man you hold under your wing." Vulgrim compliments strangely. Death's eyes narrow irritably.
"I know." Death retorts slow and with gravel.
"And you must know that I have never tasted a soul of such caliber." Vulgrim purrs. Furthering Death's heat boiling in his fists at his sides. Vulgrim pushes further, "I can still taste her on my tongue. Such light, sinlessness, and a coaxing virginity… You simply must try her before anyone else does." Death shoves off Vulgrim's plated hand with a furious growl.
"Revolting bastard." He stomps to the exit of the cave. It is far too silent there, hearing the dark chuckles even at the brightening outside of the cave.
"What's your problem, Rider?" Vulgrim heckles from afar. "I am only helping a valued customer!"
The long cove finally ended. Death never cared for warm weather, but feeling a warmth other than fresh blood or a monster's fiery breath heating his skin did in some slight comfort. The welcoming sun was bright in this world, burning his enchanted corneas slightly as they sharpened. Catching Genevieve sitting at the end of the cliffside of the steep green mountain that Vulgrim's lair resided. With her feet dangling from the edge, she stared into the forest. Thick, prospering trees ranging from wide, tangling baobab trees from reddening cherry blossoms and evergreens. Creating eye catching array of greens, orange and reds that shroud the green soil below them. She's mesmerized by the endless miles and mountains of forest occasionally specked with ancient ruins. Though, no towers scratched the atmosphere unlike the tree in the center of it all. Reaching epically into space and glowed a soft cyan between its leaves. Birds great and small chirping out of unison and flutter about the lightly clouded sky turned a bluish pink by the sunrise. It has been ages since she's seen a clear sky. It did her heart well to finally see another.
"It's beautiful." The starry eyed red head marvels rubbing her new scar. Death agrees as he summons his dead steed into the new world. Genevieve's eyes squint at the distant stone structures in the horizon withered with its mouth agape. It appears to be in shambles, but still in the shape of a bearded man's face. She finds it scary yet slightly humorous at the same time, but she hides either emotion about her face either way as a saddened look takes hold.
"This isn't Earth, isn't it?" She frowns, looking over her shoulder to Death and his perished steed. He stops himself mid climb upon the horse's saddle.
"The Forgelands." Death answers pointing out to the ruins in the shape of a maker's head. "We're journeying to Tri-Stone. Where you will reside for the time being."
"… So you still don't trust me, right." Genevieve mumbles sheepishly, turning her gaze to the bottom of the cliff.
"I pulled you from the lowliest of dungeons and monsters." Death says sternly, but not with anger as he walks to her side. He stops when the toes under his boots hang off the cliff. Genevieve winces slightly at the recall and her hands and clenches her chaps tighter at her knees. "Only to bring you someplace safe. Are you saying you're not grateful for that?" Death inquires her with an escalated eyebrow.
"Of course I am." Genevieve whiningly disagrees.
Death crouches with a plated knee to the grassy mountain ground. He sighs, "The three worlds are in chaos, Genevieve. You have only awoken from that dungeon three earth days ago. You are not ready to see let alone fight in what has become the norm. At least not yet." Genevieve huffs at his truth.
"As long as these 'allies' over there aren't like the ones I've met already."
"Makers are neutral enough." Death shrugs. "Considering their great size and temper. But this time I can promise that you will be in good hands. I will not allow you to be taken advantage of again."
Genevieve gulps. If only he knew that she has. She wants to tell him so badly of what happened. She knew that dealing with this dastardly demon was wrong, sinful and regretful. To tell him that he made a pact with a demon that she will never be able to let herself out of. But a hand softly pulls her chin up to the pale mask. An assurance lulls her shoulders and keeps her eyes from drooping further.
"When I find you safe passage to the White City, is when I will return. And you will suffer no more."
I'm excited for writing the next chapters for you guys! AAAH! Makers!
~lexi