Well, at least someone reviewed. Thank you.
Bustahead – I know you want Kaos, be calm. . .I'll was planning something close, 'kay? This is for you in the meantime. (Bashes Dyne in the head with a literature book)
Dyne: Xx
Okay, let's continue. . .
Chapter 2 Planes and Annoying Devil Hunters
Dyne was forced awake as his body crashed to the floor from his seat. It was actually a good thing really, because the same nightmare he always had had just started playing.
"What the hell?!" Dyne snapped, righting himself best he could.
"Sorry, just a bit of turbulence." The pilot called from the cockpit of the small plane.
"You call that a 'bit' of turbulence?!?!" The plane was rattling around violently, keeping Dyne from fully regaining his balance.
"We hit a storm. You're lucky I've kept us in the air for this long." The pilot argued.
Dyne groaned. "I hate planes. . ."
Dyne could hear the pilot swearing viciously from the cockpit. Since he'd been asleep, Dyne had no way of telling where they were. He leaned haphazardly onto one of the seats. "How much further do we have?" Dyne asked.
"Another five miles or so is all. I could see the land earlier, but this storm came out of nowhere. . ." The pilot trailed off, apparently keeping his attention to flying. Dyne preferred that and managed to get himself seated.
"This storm's just amazing." The pilot growled. Dyne glanced out his window, deciding to take a look himself. The sky was a dark purple black and rain poured in thick, almost opaque sheets. Dyne could see a flash of lightning every few moments.
"Oh-ly shit!!" The pilot suddenly cried. There was a loud, deafening crash and Dyne was again flung from his seat, this time over the row in front of him. He landed hard on his head and right shoulder.
"Hey kid!" The pilot grunted and yelled. "Grab a chute, we're gonna fuckin' crash!!"
Dyne obeyed immediately, rolling from the ground. Despite the violent shaking and rattling of the plane, he found the parachutes, taking one and strapping it on.
"Okay, now listen, when I tell you to, open the emergency hatch in the back." The pilot instructed.
Dyne stumbled to the rear of the little plane, holding himself against the wall by the hatch. A few long minutes passed before Dyne heard the pilot shout.
"Okay, go!!"
Dyne opened the hatch. The air wasn't sucked out from the plane, apparently because they were at a low altitude.
"What about you? Aren't you coming?" Dyne yelled out to the pilot as he prepared to jump.
"I would. . . .but I can't, I'm sorry. Don't worry about me boy, just jump!!" The pilots voice was sad and seemed to be weakening.
Dyne couldn't just leave the guy. He dashed up to the cockpit. "Come o—" Dyne was cut short when he noticed the pilot's problem. There was a huge gapping hole in the side of the cockpit, metal twisted and torn away from the front. What had caused it was unknown. The rain and wind poured through the hole, and Dyne could see the pilot wedged tightly between some of the debris.
"What are you doing?! Go, now!" The pilot demanded as he caught sight of Dyne. Dyne ran over and began trying to push the twisted and mauled metal from atop the pilot, only causing the man to cry out in pain. Dyne could see that there was a long shaft of steel protruding from the mans torso.
The man pushed Dyne away from him with one free arm. "Go! NOW!" He growled in pain. Dyne came closer once more, trying to push some of the debris from the pilot again. "You idiot!" The pilot hissed. "Do what I say boy!"
"No way, I'm getting you out too!" Dyne growled, straining to move the metal. It wouldn't budge. The icy, prickling rain and wind pelted down into Dynes face and eyes from the hole, as if trying to keep him from the injured pilot.
"You ain't savin' me boy, just get out now before it's too late!" The pilot yelled, his voice becoming hoarse.
It was on the verge of too late now; the plane began to touch water, and Dyne leapt from the massive hole in the cockpit, plunging head first into freezing saltwater. He could hear nothing around him, only the dull roar of the rain above water. He managed to surface, gasping for air and peering around. There seemed to be nothing, only the wind and thick, blinding rain. . .He couldn't even see the plane.
Dyne struggled to stay above water. He kept his eyes half shut, to keep the sharp falling rain from them. It was hard staying afloat, with his guns and sword.
After an hour or so, just as suddenly as it had begun, the storm was over. The wind calmed some and the rain ceased. The sky changed to an overcast grey.
"That was no ordinary storm." Dyne told himself. He looked around quickly. The pilot had said that they had only been a few miles from land, so maybe the was close.
As luck would have it, only about 50 yards away Dyne could see a small piece of land jutting from a larger part. He sighed, swimming toward the smaller piece.
Even though the wind had died down some, it really wasn't the greatest of improvements. The temperature was somewhere in the thirties Dyne guessed, and the heavy winds only made the chill more wretched.
Things were worse as Dyne pulled himself onto the rocky embankment. The wind played around his body, chilling him to the bone.
"I need warmth. . ." Dyne told himself, shivering some. He checked his surroundings to see that he was standing on a small bank that was below a tall Cliffside. Overhead, Dyne could see some sort of structure at the cliffs top.
Dyne walked around the bank. The ground went in a circle around the cliff and as Dyne came around a little more, he could see a long, thin strip of land connecting to the mainland. Apparently, this little spot was something of a fort.
"Probably an old prison." Dyne thought. That would make sense; keep people on a little island prison so they couldn't get away. "Like Alcatraz. . ." But how the hell could he get in? He needed shelter, fast. If he didn't find it soon, he'd freeze. Just then, he saw a small crack, a cave maybe, in the Cliffside. He jogged to it, squeezing through silently. "Thank god!"
Dyne plopped to the ground, removing his soaking wet jacket. Good thing he'd chosen not to wear his trench, he'd have drowned from the weight of that piled on with everything else. He removed his guns and Alastor, shaking the water from the guns to clean them. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out some papers and his cell phone.
The phone was trashed. "Piece of crap." Dyne grumbled, hurling the thing against a wall. He chunked the damp papers, which had been his map and mission objectives. They weren't important anymore, for he'd already memorized his objectives.
He began to check his bangle, which was still fine. Now Dyne noticed where he'd ended up. The crack in the cliff had taken him into what looked like a worked stone corridor. The dull lighting of torches illuminated some spots. The air was damp and cool, but not like the bitter coldness of outside.
"To explore, or not to explore, that is the question." Dyne asked himself.
"Just be careful. . ." A voice warned in Dyne's head.
"I will. . ." Dyne grumbled. He stood up, ringed out his jacket and put it back on, then holstered his guns and sheathed Alastor.
"I sense evil here. . ." The voice in Dyne's head mumbled.
"No shit."
If anyone had seen Dyne, they would have thought he was crazy. Only he could hear the voice of Cerbis, the spirit of his bangle.
Cerbis hadn't always been in this bangle. He used to embody the massive gauntlet that Dyne used. Now, however, Dyne had taken the bangle his brother had given him and somehow merged the bangle and gauntlet together. Now, Cerbis was inside of the bracelet, and Dyne could summon the gauntlet at will. It was quite helpful, really.
Dyne brushed his messy wet hair out of his face, not bothering to fix it. He wasn't planning on checking out the ladies today, so it was fine by him to look sloppy. He slowly proceeded down the hall, hands in his pockets.
The entire hall was horribly quiet, the only sounds really being the crackling of the torches every now and then. Dyne had to do something to make some noise. He began humming something to lighten his mood a bit. It sounded jumpy and cute, and was something no one would ever catch Dyne singing with company. He didn't mind Cerbis hearing. What could he do about it?
"I think you need to lay off the video games Dyne. . ."
"Why?" Dyne argued.
"Chocobos. . .?"
Dyne laughed. "Aw, you don't like that song? I'll keep singing then." Now Dyne hummed louder. Cerbis groaned and sighed, feeling a prisoner of Dyne's annoyance.
"Why? Why torment me?"
"Because, there's no one else around to irritate."
"AT LEAST SING SOMETHING ELSE!!!"
Dyne stopped humming and thought. He then opened his mouth and began singing again. "You ain't nothin' but a hound dog, cryin' all th—"
"Oh god!" Cerbis cried. Dyne could only imagine the poor spirit banging his head into the wall.
As Dyne began to laugh, his voice was drowned out by a shrill cackling laughter. He stopped, hearing the sound of metal scrapping metal; the sound a pair of scissors make.
"Well, guess I was wrong about today. I will be impressing some chicks today, just not in the way I'd like." Dyne smirked as two Sin Scissors appeared through the wall to his left. At least now he knew what the hell they were. He'd been reading and studying up on all different kinds of devils with Dante's books. It was amazing how much Dyne could learn it three years when he actually WANTED to learn the stuff.
The first Sin flew at Dyne, its shears stretched. Dyne jumped into the air and over the sin, going at the other one. With Alastor, he swung downward onto the sin's face before it could block, shattering the mask in one clean blow. He rolled away as the scissors whirled to the ground.
The remaining sin began circling Dyne now. It kept slicing the shears, just to make the high, ringing slicing sound. Dyne came at the sin, then jumped onto its mask. He hopped upward more, and then cleaved down at the devil's face. It blocked sloppily with its scissors, losing its guard for a moment. Dyne took this moment to jab forward into the sins face. With three hard gouges, the mask split and the sin screeched as it died, dissolving into thin air. The cackles of the sin eventually died off, leaving Dyne once more in the silent corridor alone.
Dyne gave a smirk. This mission might not be so bad after all. . .
I hope it doesn't seem to bad. I'll get another chapter soon, just so long as I see some reviews. (sniff, sniff) ;; Please, review, okay? Pretty pretty please!
Bustahead – I know you want Kaos, be calm. . .I'll was planning something close, 'kay? This is for you in the meantime. (Bashes Dyne in the head with a literature book)
Dyne: Xx
Okay, let's continue. . .
Chapter 2 Planes and Annoying Devil Hunters
Dyne was forced awake as his body crashed to the floor from his seat. It was actually a good thing really, because the same nightmare he always had had just started playing.
"What the hell?!" Dyne snapped, righting himself best he could.
"Sorry, just a bit of turbulence." The pilot called from the cockpit of the small plane.
"You call that a 'bit' of turbulence?!?!" The plane was rattling around violently, keeping Dyne from fully regaining his balance.
"We hit a storm. You're lucky I've kept us in the air for this long." The pilot argued.
Dyne groaned. "I hate planes. . ."
Dyne could hear the pilot swearing viciously from the cockpit. Since he'd been asleep, Dyne had no way of telling where they were. He leaned haphazardly onto one of the seats. "How much further do we have?" Dyne asked.
"Another five miles or so is all. I could see the land earlier, but this storm came out of nowhere. . ." The pilot trailed off, apparently keeping his attention to flying. Dyne preferred that and managed to get himself seated.
"This storm's just amazing." The pilot growled. Dyne glanced out his window, deciding to take a look himself. The sky was a dark purple black and rain poured in thick, almost opaque sheets. Dyne could see a flash of lightning every few moments.
"Oh-ly shit!!" The pilot suddenly cried. There was a loud, deafening crash and Dyne was again flung from his seat, this time over the row in front of him. He landed hard on his head and right shoulder.
"Hey kid!" The pilot grunted and yelled. "Grab a chute, we're gonna fuckin' crash!!"
Dyne obeyed immediately, rolling from the ground. Despite the violent shaking and rattling of the plane, he found the parachutes, taking one and strapping it on.
"Okay, now listen, when I tell you to, open the emergency hatch in the back." The pilot instructed.
Dyne stumbled to the rear of the little plane, holding himself against the wall by the hatch. A few long minutes passed before Dyne heard the pilot shout.
"Okay, go!!"
Dyne opened the hatch. The air wasn't sucked out from the plane, apparently because they were at a low altitude.
"What about you? Aren't you coming?" Dyne yelled out to the pilot as he prepared to jump.
"I would. . . .but I can't, I'm sorry. Don't worry about me boy, just jump!!" The pilots voice was sad and seemed to be weakening.
Dyne couldn't just leave the guy. He dashed up to the cockpit. "Come o—" Dyne was cut short when he noticed the pilot's problem. There was a huge gapping hole in the side of the cockpit, metal twisted and torn away from the front. What had caused it was unknown. The rain and wind poured through the hole, and Dyne could see the pilot wedged tightly between some of the debris.
"What are you doing?! Go, now!" The pilot demanded as he caught sight of Dyne. Dyne ran over and began trying to push the twisted and mauled metal from atop the pilot, only causing the man to cry out in pain. Dyne could see that there was a long shaft of steel protruding from the mans torso.
The man pushed Dyne away from him with one free arm. "Go! NOW!" He growled in pain. Dyne came closer once more, trying to push some of the debris from the pilot again. "You idiot!" The pilot hissed. "Do what I say boy!"
"No way, I'm getting you out too!" Dyne growled, straining to move the metal. It wouldn't budge. The icy, prickling rain and wind pelted down into Dynes face and eyes from the hole, as if trying to keep him from the injured pilot.
"You ain't savin' me boy, just get out now before it's too late!" The pilot yelled, his voice becoming hoarse.
It was on the verge of too late now; the plane began to touch water, and Dyne leapt from the massive hole in the cockpit, plunging head first into freezing saltwater. He could hear nothing around him, only the dull roar of the rain above water. He managed to surface, gasping for air and peering around. There seemed to be nothing, only the wind and thick, blinding rain. . .He couldn't even see the plane.
Dyne struggled to stay above water. He kept his eyes half shut, to keep the sharp falling rain from them. It was hard staying afloat, with his guns and sword.
After an hour or so, just as suddenly as it had begun, the storm was over. The wind calmed some and the rain ceased. The sky changed to an overcast grey.
"That was no ordinary storm." Dyne told himself. He looked around quickly. The pilot had said that they had only been a few miles from land, so maybe the was close.
As luck would have it, only about 50 yards away Dyne could see a small piece of land jutting from a larger part. He sighed, swimming toward the smaller piece.
Even though the wind had died down some, it really wasn't the greatest of improvements. The temperature was somewhere in the thirties Dyne guessed, and the heavy winds only made the chill more wretched.
Things were worse as Dyne pulled himself onto the rocky embankment. The wind played around his body, chilling him to the bone.
"I need warmth. . ." Dyne told himself, shivering some. He checked his surroundings to see that he was standing on a small bank that was below a tall Cliffside. Overhead, Dyne could see some sort of structure at the cliffs top.
Dyne walked around the bank. The ground went in a circle around the cliff and as Dyne came around a little more, he could see a long, thin strip of land connecting to the mainland. Apparently, this little spot was something of a fort.
"Probably an old prison." Dyne thought. That would make sense; keep people on a little island prison so they couldn't get away. "Like Alcatraz. . ." But how the hell could he get in? He needed shelter, fast. If he didn't find it soon, he'd freeze. Just then, he saw a small crack, a cave maybe, in the Cliffside. He jogged to it, squeezing through silently. "Thank god!"
Dyne plopped to the ground, removing his soaking wet jacket. Good thing he'd chosen not to wear his trench, he'd have drowned from the weight of that piled on with everything else. He removed his guns and Alastor, shaking the water from the guns to clean them. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out some papers and his cell phone.
The phone was trashed. "Piece of crap." Dyne grumbled, hurling the thing against a wall. He chunked the damp papers, which had been his map and mission objectives. They weren't important anymore, for he'd already memorized his objectives.
He began to check his bangle, which was still fine. Now Dyne noticed where he'd ended up. The crack in the cliff had taken him into what looked like a worked stone corridor. The dull lighting of torches illuminated some spots. The air was damp and cool, but not like the bitter coldness of outside.
"To explore, or not to explore, that is the question." Dyne asked himself.
"Just be careful. . ." A voice warned in Dyne's head.
"I will. . ." Dyne grumbled. He stood up, ringed out his jacket and put it back on, then holstered his guns and sheathed Alastor.
"I sense evil here. . ." The voice in Dyne's head mumbled.
"No shit."
If anyone had seen Dyne, they would have thought he was crazy. Only he could hear the voice of Cerbis, the spirit of his bangle.
Cerbis hadn't always been in this bangle. He used to embody the massive gauntlet that Dyne used. Now, however, Dyne had taken the bangle his brother had given him and somehow merged the bangle and gauntlet together. Now, Cerbis was inside of the bracelet, and Dyne could summon the gauntlet at will. It was quite helpful, really.
Dyne brushed his messy wet hair out of his face, not bothering to fix it. He wasn't planning on checking out the ladies today, so it was fine by him to look sloppy. He slowly proceeded down the hall, hands in his pockets.
The entire hall was horribly quiet, the only sounds really being the crackling of the torches every now and then. Dyne had to do something to make some noise. He began humming something to lighten his mood a bit. It sounded jumpy and cute, and was something no one would ever catch Dyne singing with company. He didn't mind Cerbis hearing. What could he do about it?
"I think you need to lay off the video games Dyne. . ."
"Why?" Dyne argued.
"Chocobos. . .?"
Dyne laughed. "Aw, you don't like that song? I'll keep singing then." Now Dyne hummed louder. Cerbis groaned and sighed, feeling a prisoner of Dyne's annoyance.
"Why? Why torment me?"
"Because, there's no one else around to irritate."
"AT LEAST SING SOMETHING ELSE!!!"
Dyne stopped humming and thought. He then opened his mouth and began singing again. "You ain't nothin' but a hound dog, cryin' all th—"
"Oh god!" Cerbis cried. Dyne could only imagine the poor spirit banging his head into the wall.
As Dyne began to laugh, his voice was drowned out by a shrill cackling laughter. He stopped, hearing the sound of metal scrapping metal; the sound a pair of scissors make.
"Well, guess I was wrong about today. I will be impressing some chicks today, just not in the way I'd like." Dyne smirked as two Sin Scissors appeared through the wall to his left. At least now he knew what the hell they were. He'd been reading and studying up on all different kinds of devils with Dante's books. It was amazing how much Dyne could learn it three years when he actually WANTED to learn the stuff.
The first Sin flew at Dyne, its shears stretched. Dyne jumped into the air and over the sin, going at the other one. With Alastor, he swung downward onto the sin's face before it could block, shattering the mask in one clean blow. He rolled away as the scissors whirled to the ground.
The remaining sin began circling Dyne now. It kept slicing the shears, just to make the high, ringing slicing sound. Dyne came at the sin, then jumped onto its mask. He hopped upward more, and then cleaved down at the devil's face. It blocked sloppily with its scissors, losing its guard for a moment. Dyne took this moment to jab forward into the sins face. With three hard gouges, the mask split and the sin screeched as it died, dissolving into thin air. The cackles of the sin eventually died off, leaving Dyne once more in the silent corridor alone.
Dyne gave a smirk. This mission might not be so bad after all. . .
I hope it doesn't seem to bad. I'll get another chapter soon, just so long as I see some reviews. (sniff, sniff) ;; Please, review, okay? Pretty pretty please!