Chapter One: "Redo"
...
A Word From Garterbelt
Once upon a time, in a land long forgotten, there was a grand megalopolis known as Daten City. A haven for all the evil wretches of the world. Where vile specters and devious demons hatched diabolical schemes.
It was here that the story of two fallen angels was first told. It was an epic tale of redemption, of faith, of kicking the ever-living hell out of the evil that plagued this world.
However, we already know the trials and tribulations of these two fallen angels. Cast out of heaven itself, they spent their time expelling the unholy filth that hid in the shadows in order to earn their way back to paradise.
Nevertheless, you only know part of the story.
This is the tale of a boy seeking penance for his past. One where he is given a second chance at life.
This is the story of one Briefers Rock.
May God have mercy on his soul.
...
Fire. That was all there was.
Well, okay, that wasn't all that there was. In truth, there was a lot mixed in with the fire. Like ruined buildings, damaged cars, and the occasional frantically flailing pedestrian. Who was now no doubt regretting their choice of spectating the epic battle between good and evil. Of course, they would've been perfectly fine if the good guys had pulled together and prevailed.
Like they were supposed to.
Unfortunately for them, and by extension me, the good guys failed. I failed.
Not entirely, okay? We did our best, and our best was almost good enough. The villain was gone, along with his hope for world domination, a certain sister stopped trying to kill us and I got laid, again. Although none of that really mattered in the end, for when it all came down to it, it was all just too much for us.
For me.
As my final minutes passed by, I took a second to just drink in all the death and destruction my failure caused. The fiery glow of the unholy explosion, which was currently rocketing what remained of the city into the stratosphere, stretched out so far, you'd think the whole world was caught in the blast. Another painfully obvious fact that was slapping me in the face was how our failure basically spelled doom for all of mankind. Along with Heaven, Hell, and everything in between. Oh, and all my friends and loved ones being splayed out in pieces around me was up there too.
Of course, the one that cut me the deepest was just how tightly my girlfriend (for all of about thirty seconds) was holding my arm at that moment. Like me, she must have deduced how absolutely screwed we were, and was probably just holding me for comfort, hoping it would all turn out okay like it always did.
It didn't.
No one came to save us, nothing could stop the army of ghosts now plaguing the world, and everything sucked. All because I chose love.
But hey, at least one thing came true. I finally got her to say "I love you" back. If only it didn't take the literal biblical apocalypse to do so, but I guess beggars can't be choosers, and all that.
My name is Briefers Rock, and even though my flesh is, as of right now, being torn apart and burned to a crisp, I can't help but smile, as my love smiled sadly back at me. Heck, even now, I can still hear her voice sing my name.
"...brief...brief...Brief...Brief..."
…
"BRIEF!"
"Gah!" a young teen screamed as he tumbled off his bed in confusion.
"Son, get up! It's time to get ready for school!" shouted a very annoyed older man from downstairs.
"O-okay!" The boy squealed from his new position on the floor, before heaving a deep sigh.
This was Briefers Rock, heir to the prestigious Rock Foundation, occult fanatic and all-around geek, and whether he liked it or not, today was the day his life would change.
Forever.
'Man, what a weird dream', he lazily thought while still lying face down on the carpet, 'Maybe I should stop drinking six liters of Fizzy before bed.'
Picking himself up, the teen slowly marched over to his bathroom, reluctant to start the day. He felt as though he hadn't slept in weeks. Thanks in no small part to those night-long gaming sessions. Approaching his bathroom mirror, Brief took in his appearance for the first time that morning and immediately noticed the dark, heavy bags under his otherwise stunning green eyes. Both of which stood out against his pale, pasty skin, along with the ache that had been kicking into overdrive as of late. Worst of all was his hair. While normally scruffy, the top of his head that morning resembled a bird's nest, barely even covering his eyes the way it always did. A quick shower helped, but nothing could cure the massive headache steadily growing in the back of his head. Barely an hour into the day and he was already cursing his own existence.
'Mmph, I wonder if today's the day I'll finally get those nerds to hang out with me? He mused as he brushed his hair, They would if I waved my dad's money in front of their faces. Then again, if I did that, I might as well skip 'em and just go wave it at those popular kids who always push me around. Maybe then I wouldn't feel so... alone.'
As soon as those words entered his head, he dismissed them and repeated one of the few things his mom had said to him that he could remember.
"Money isn't everything, Briefers. It might buy you the world, but it'll never earn you a single thing."
To be perfectly honest, Brief didn't really know if he truly believed that, or understood it for that matter, but what he did know was this; he would never go against his own word. For no sooner had his late mother said those words did he promise to live by them. To this day, he never once mentioned his inheritance, nor the fact that the majority of his high school classmates had a parent currently working under his father.
No, Brief was going to live the life his mother had wanted for him; an honest one. Where he earned his riches. Of course, he doubted he'd ever earn his dad's company, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. For his dad and his mother.
Having dressed himself in whatever clothes he had grabbed first, which consisted of a yellow shirt, baggy jeans, white sneakers, and a green flannel, he once again cursed the foreign shipping company currently holding that cool, green jumpsuit he had ordered over three months ago.
'So, what grueling adventures does life have planned for me today?' he asked himself, not really expecting an answer.
"Brief! Hurry up!" Winston shouted once again, growing more and more impatient with his heir, "Your chauffeur is ready!"
"Gah! R-right! Sorry dad!" Brief whined back with his own stuttery, high-pitched tone.
'Good God, I pray to heaven that boy grows out of that soon', Winston Rock thought in irritation, frowning at his son's typical antics.
Finally making his way down the long, winding stairs, Brief burst through the front doors, not even bothering to look his own dad in the eyes as he yelled back, "Bye dad! See you later!"
And with that, his day had finally begun.
…
"You're late, Mr. Rock."
"S-sorry Mr. Flick," mumbled said teen, taking his seat in the front of the class. 'Great job Brief, there goes your perfect attendance.'
His first class of the day was history, and while Brief enjoyed it growing up, Mr. Flick always found a way to make even the most radical events seem dull and pointless. A terrifying skill he used pretty much every day of class.
"As I was saying… For the rest of the year's curriculum, we will all be looking back at the founding of Daten City." stated the rather portly teacher, which would've earned him a loud sigh of irritation from the class if he hadn't followed up with, "Before that however, I'm going to have you all write down an essay on what you've already been taught. Make sure it's at least five hundred words, and no double spacing!"
That instead garnered a massive outcry from the entire class, including Brief. The last time anyone had even mentioned the origins of his home city was a rather long, boring speech his 5th grade teacher gave him back when he was eleven! How the hell was he supposed to remember all that!? It was impossible!
"Oh, and this'll add up to a good ten percent of your final grade, so make sure there's no spelling errors. You all know how much I despise those."
Pandemonium soon erupted all around him, but Brief was too busy burying his head in his hands in despair to really notice.
...
To say Brief's troubles had only just begun was a bit over an understatement. Right off the bat, the geek knew he had all but failed the essay his diabolical history teacher passed around, which in the grand scheme of things wasn't all that bad. The biology test however was a huge deal, and it was only through a five-minute crunch period that he'd managed to pass. Nearly every class Brief attended that day ended the same way, with the boy being woefully unprepared, only to barely scrape by.
Everything except gym. Thanks to an impromptu game of dodgeball, he had to skip the second to last class for a trip to the nurse's office, which he just knew would send his grades back a few letters. Add the fact that Brief was still as friendless as ever, and today was shaping up to be one of the worst ones he had ever experienced in his pubescent life.
Thankfully, all the bullies must've had better things to do, because he coasted through nearly the whole day unmolested. That was until, as the poor boy was walking across the main entrance of the school, he came face to face with the current queen bee of the school. That in and of itself wasn't cause for concern, but unfortunately for Brief, the girl was being escorted by her most recent boy toy, and unluckily for the geek, he was the jealous type.
"Hey!" the jacked barbarian barked, scaring Brief half to death, "You looking at my girl, shit for brains?!"
In reality, Brief hadn't even glanced at her, much less leer. Later on, he'd figure the guy was just acting tough in an attempt to try and impress his girlfriend. He often saw this when two teens were on the cusp of breaking up, especially gorillas like this one.
At present, Brief was busy trying not to piss himself while the rest of the school circled around him. They made no move to help him, which was normal. This was high school after all, and what better way was there to end a boring day then a good old fashion beat down.
"W-w-w-what! N-n-no way, I would never-!" Brief tried to plead his case, but it looked like the jock had taken it the wrong way.
"Oh yeah!? Well then why the hell not, piss-ant!? You sayin' my girl got a butter-face or somethin'!? Is that what you think!?" the brute proclaimed, shoving the geek to the ground.
In an attempt to calm things down, Brief scrambled to his knees and recited one of the many groveling sessions he had practiced for situations like these, going as far as to get on his hands and knees in order to make himself seem small and helpless.
"Oh p-please forgive me, sir! I am but a humble ant scurrying around in the shadow of your magnificence! Please, please forgive me! I'm not worthy!"
Was he laying it on a bit thick? Sure, but that was the way these guys liked it. Did he believe a single thing that was spilling out of his mouth? Nope. But hey, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Although, before Brief could properly finish, the muscular demon that was looming over him just smiled wickedly, making sure to crack his knuckles for added effect.
"Hell no, geek boy! I ain't done with you yet!" he growled.
'Uh oh' Brief thought, his hope dwindling by the second.
This wasn't going to be pretty, and if Brief remembered right, this middle-aged man disguised as a teenager was the school's quarterback, which meant the beating Brief was about to receive would be legendary.
With no alternative in sight, all Brief could do was give into fate. Although, as he contemplated on how he was going to explain this one away to his dad, he couldn't help but look up at the sky in exasperation. It looked like it was about to rain, what with the heavy clouds swirling around. Heck, if Brief didn't know any better, he could swear the storm was zeroing in on him specifically.
'Pff. Whatcha gonna do, huh?' Brief thought aloud, releasing a broken chuckle, 'Strike me down? Yeah right.'
Looking back on it, Brief would comment that he meant it as a rhetorical question. Apparently though, it didn't seem like Heaven understood that crucial difference.
The last thing Brief saw was a roided out athlete rearing for a haymaker, and then...
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZPPPPPPPPPPPP!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
Right there, lying on the ground in a smoking, burning heap was Brief, having been suddenly struck by the heavens themselves. No one did anything for the longest time. They were all too shocked to see their fellow classmate be assassinated by God Almighty.
All the boy in question could do himself was lay there in agony, truly wishing he had just kept his stupid thoughts in check. Before the geek lost consciousness, however, a single word managed to pass through his now blackened, charred lips.
"...ow."
The boy then fell into a pain induced coma; unaware a piece of paper had been gifted to him that would change his life forever.
…
"Whelp, I got to say, Mr. Rock, your boy here sure is one lucky son-of-a-gun," commented the doctor, finishing up the last of his treatments.
"Will he be okay, Dr. Hammond?" Winston asked worryingly.
"Oh yes. Surprisingly so, too!" the older, balding man replied, shocked by the boy's durability, "Nothing too important is hurt, no nerve damage or anything of the like. The skin he's lost will grow back, and it seems the worst he's got he's is a mild concussion, but that was likely due to the fall he took after being struck. All in all, I'm gonna say he can remove those bandages within a few days, at most. There might be a little scarring on the chest and back, but hey, what a small price to pay, am I right?"
Relieved by the diagnosis, Winston shook the Doctor's hand, before ushering him out the door so that his boy could get some well-earned rest. It hadn't even been a full day before the boy was cleared for release, and as soon as it was obvious that Brief's life wasn't in danger, Winston had pulled his son right out of that glorified death camp of a hospital. Honestly, he just wanted all of this to be over and done with.
"Oh, one more thing Mr. Rock," muttered Dr. Hammond.
"Yes?" questioned Winston, only slightly annoyed.
"I found this," digging his hand into the various pockets sewn onto his coat, the doctor at last fished out what appeared to be a slightly charred piece of paper, "In your son's right pocket. Almost threw it out with the rest of his clothes, but I thought it might be some sort of reminder your son made for himself."
The Rock Patriarch politely snatched the paper from the doctor's hands before shooing him out.
Once he was alone with his son, Winston gave the piece of paper a once over before scoffing. The damn thing only had one word scribbled on it. What good of a reminder was that? Besides, Brief would be home for the next week, so if it was school related, it didn't matter.
And so, after giving his sleeping son one last look to see if he had woken up yet, the single father silently made his way out. Though not before tossing the now crumpled piece of parchment into the overflowing trash can his son kept beside his bed.
A good hour passed, with Brief blissfully knocked out, before an unseeable force started to drift into the otherwise still bedroom. Like the wind, it drifted to and fro, almost as if it was searching for something. Then, just as it was about to die down, it grazed the top of the trash can, before growing in power, overjoyed in finding its target. In the blink of an eye, it ripped the parchment away, only to guide it to its new owner.
...
If Brief were asked to describe his current condition, the word "painful" would be most prominent, along with tired, achy, and not a little tender. Even as he slept, the poor boy couldn't shake off the massive headache that was threatening to split his head in two.
It certainly didn't help when Brief was awoken with a sudden jolt to the sound of dire gasping, which turned out to be him. It seemed as though a crumpled-up piece of paper had somehow found its way out of the trash and into his open mouth, effectively choking him. Having pulled the offending scrap from his chapped, swollen lips, the geek lied back down onto his waiting bed, knowing full well getting any more sleep after that was hopeless.
The teen whipped his head around, confused on how he had made it home, only for the entirety of today's events to come rushing back. Realizing that he had undoubtedly come face to face with death and somehow walked away barely the worse for wear, he crashed back down onto his sweat-soaked sheets, only now noticing how exhausted he was.
All he could do now was stare up at the blank ceiling, fully expecting the entire room to collapse on top of him. Although, as the minutes uneventfully rolled by, he started to wonder what he had done to warrant such rotten luck. Maybe he did a bunch of bad stuff in a previous life? If that was the case, it must have been something if being struck by lightning was the only thing that saved him from being torn to shreds by a frickin' ogre. So what had he done? Larceny? Infidelity? murder? He could only pray it wasn't the latter.
If that wasn't the case, then the only other thing he could think of was that God must have really had it out for him. Brief wouldn't necessarily call himself religious, but he did hold a firm belief in the supernatural. He especially loved the idea of ghosts and the realms they resided in. If specters did exist, though, then it was only logical that there must be a place for them to go to. And if that place was real, then there must be someone or something running it, right?
'Huh, maybe this is why nobody hangs out with me.' Brief suddenly thought, as if some great revelation had finally graced his mind with its presence. 'Maybe I'm just too dorky, even for the dorks? I mean, who in their right mind would hang out with someone that just talks about ghosts all day long? Who would sit next to a nerd who went around buying jumpsuits and knock-off proton packs on IBuy!? Weirdos, that who... weirdos with no common sense. Weirdos who go around collecting slime off the road cause they think it's frickin' ectoplasm! Only it wasn't, it was just spooge some dude probably shot off while boinking some girl!'
By now, the tears Brief had been holding back until now were freely falling down his reddened cheeks.
"That's right, only weirdos like me," he wept, trying desperately to wipe damp eyes.
'God, I wish I wasn't such a fucking loser.'
Only for that damned paper to suddenly fly back into his face!
"Augh!" he seethed, ripping the paper off once again, "oh for God's sake, there isn't even any wind!"
He was about to rip the damned thing to shreds, only to realize there was something scribbled on the side. The script was barely legible, thanks to being burnt, crumpled, tossed and stepped on, but Briefers somehow managed to make out the four letters that made up the sloppily written word.
It read "Redo".
"What the-!?"
It was then that Brief's mind began to collapse in on itself.
…
'What's…going on?'
It was a strange next couple of hours for Brief as he once again passed out on his bed. Although he couldn't feel his body, he was still somewhat aware of his surroundings, which happened to be pure darkness. Then something stranger occurred.
All of a sudden, the image of a face Brief hadn't seen in a very long time catapulted his mind through what seemed to be a reel of his life so far. At first the memories played in real time, only to gradually fast forward. Seconds turned to minutes, which turned into days, then into months. It got to the point where only the most memorable moments whizzed by, most of which were separated by years.
There he was the day he was born, there was his mother dying before his eyes, there was the first time the girl he asked out kicked him in the dick, and there was the first time he was beaten to a pulp by the girl's boyfriend. His discovery of video games and movies was also there, forever turning him into the antisocialist he was today.
By the time his most recent memories started to surface, Brief began to worry.
'Am I dying? Is all this just my brain recalling my whole life like those myths said? What'll happen to me when it stops?!'
Interestingly enough, it didn't stop. At least, not when it was supposed to. Slowing down to a crawl, it instead showed a version of today that went on about the same, except when it came to the beating. It looked like the lightning strike never happened and the bully got a good few blows in before a passing teacher came to the rescue. From there it continued on, revealing yet another year that was more or less the same as the rest. Except for that jumpsuit he was wearing. Was this the future? If it was, he was just as depressingly lonely as he was now. Still no friends and not a girlfriend in sight.
However, everything changed when the beginning of his fourth year of high school rolled around, as two of the most gorgeous women he had ever laid eyes on walked through the very halls he had just ran through earlier that day.
From there, the next two years were quite the trip. Ghost slaying, demon fighting, getting laid at long last, it sent his mind into quite the tizzy. Although, even he had to admit his habit of spazzing out at every little thing was a bit much. You'd think having to fend off the dead would build a little confidence.
As he was still in the middle of processing all this, Brief's eyelids suddenly flew open with a pained gasp.
"Uhhhh..."
Now, in truth there were many questions rattling around in his ginger noggin, like 'is one of my classmates seriously a ghost', 'how come some priest keeps hitting on me', and 'did I seriously just die a horrible, fiery death'. However, in a race to see which question would occupy his thoughts first, it looks as though all had crashed horrifically into one another along the way, leaving him staring blankly at the wall with nary a proper thought in sight. However, there was only one thing occupying the poor boy's mind at that moment. A notion really, made up of about three words, all running in a never-ending loop.
'What…da fuck…'
It was…a lot to take in. If he had to guess, it seemed as though some force was implanting his brain with his future memories, and judging from the contents, there was a very good reason for it. As his mind started to become hazy again, Brief abruptly lurched forward as something very terrifying finally clicked.
If his future self's memories were embedding themselves into his mind, did that mean he himself would cease to exist!? It was a concept he saw often in movies like this, and he was worried the same thing was happening to him! The very notion itself caused him to violently crash his head onto his mattress, doing everything he could to push whatever consciousness was threatening to take over away. He could feel it now, too. It was almost as if someone else's soul was being smashed against his psyche. Was this person even aware of what they were doing? Heck, if that guy's luck was anything like his, then the answer was most likely no.
'Please... please go away! I don't wanna cease to exist! There's still so much I want to do! He begged whatever entity that was responsible for all this, I'm still a virgin for goodness s-!'
"Brief."
The boy in question gasped loudly as his final moments wormed their way in. The first thing he noticed was the image of a beautiful woman looking back at him with what could only describe as love and affection. He could practically feel her hand carcass his face as she locked gazes with him, her twin oceans of blue staring back at his emerald green. She wore a stunning red dress and her bright, blond hair cascaded down her back, nearly reaching her hips. Her body was divine, and a prime example of what Heaven had to offer. For she was a true angel, and nobody could dissuade him of that.
This was Panty Anarchy, the love of his life, and this was the last thing he heard before it all went black.
"I love you."
Then she was gone. Perished, along with him and everyone else he knew and loved. Her sister Stocking, the Demon Sisters Scanty and Kneesocks, the reverend Garterbelt. Even his mutt in crime, Chuck.
All gone…because of him. Whoever this monster was, he was responsible for the chaos and destruction that tore away Brief's happiness. The creature he only knew as Corset. He and his army of ghosts and demons had sought world domination, and had apparently succeeded. If only Brief had been more helpful sooner. If only he could prevent all the disasters and fix the mistakes he made. If only…
It was then that it all became perfectly clear.
'Huh, I guess I did wish for something like this, didn't I?"
Understanding what he had to do, Brief opened his mind and allowed whatever was screwing with his head to continue on. For the briefest of moments, he thought he could hear a faint voice thank him for choosing this.
Closing his eyes for the last time, Briefers Rock, the saddest loner in all of Daten City, slowly faded away, only to be replaced by another.
It was then that Brief, the Geek Boy himself, bedder of angels (namely one), befriender of demons, ghost hunter extraordinaire, and king of all dorks awoke.
...
'Am I dreaming…?' was my first thought, not at all believing my eyes as they gazed upon my childhood room.
The same one I saw blow up.
Was I dead? Was this Heaven? After becoming interested in the occult, I ran across some articles every now and then that suggested Heaven might be some never-ending loop of one's best moments in life, which would definitely explain what I was seeing. That couldn't be, though, since a certain duo disproved that, along with a bunch of other myths concerning God's domain.
So where was I? It definitely looked like my room. I could see row after row of figurines, autographed pictures of me standing next to celebrity actors from movies I had watched a million times, and far too many replicas of weapons from my favorite games, most of which were SiFi based.
Shaking my head, I tried to leave the sweaty confines of my mattress, but I was then made painfully aware of the bandages wrapped around my torso, thanks to how rough they felt against my chest when I moved. I wondered why they were there, until a tiny voice in the back of my head said 'Of course they're there dude, you just got struck by…'
"...lightning." I whispered in shock.
As soon as that one word left my lips, I instantly felt a load of bile rising through my throat. As quick as I could, I slapped my hands over my mouth and made a mad dash to the bathroom. Minutes went by as I emptied my stomach into the toilet, and by the time it stopped, I felt as though my intestines had been ripped from my belly. My throat was on fire and my nose burned from the smell, but I didn't dare move in case another wave of vomit came around. Eventually my stomach settled and I took a chance at leaning against the bowl, away from its foul contents.
At long last, my mind was clear enough for the proper answer to appear, but I still couldn't believe it.
'I'm in the past.'
'No, that's impossible, right? Or…is it?' It was then that a conversation with a certain afro-sporting preacher came to me, one that entailed the man's backstory. Which apparently included him being sent back to the dawn of effing existence! So, was it really that absurd that some otherworldly force, possibly holy, sent me back with the sole intention of making sure I didn't completely screw everything up this time?
It took quite a while for me to snap back to reality, but it was hardly my fault. I could practically feel the flames of the blast cooking me alive, but here I was.
Once I did, though, I realized whatever had done this had brought me back to when my second year of high school was coming to an end, if the memories of the previous Brief were anything to go by. Oh yeah, that was yet another thing I had to consider, the fact that I basically wiped my past self from existence! The only thing that gave me peace was his resolve. Without even meeting the woman, the young fool couldn't help but fall in love with the one being who threw my life into the chaotic mess it was now.
The fallen angel, Panty Anarchy.
"Holy cow," I muttered, the mere thought of her snapping me back to the present, "I'm back… I'm actually back before…before they…"
It was at that moment that the wariness weighing me down was lifted, giving me a sudden burst of euphoria that flooded my system. For I have obtained what most people would kill for: a second chance. At life, and at love.
"I'm…I'm…I'M BACK!" I shouted, jumping in joy. Or, would have if not for the bandages restricting my movement. Oh, also.
"Frickin' ow…" I croaked with a smile and a chuckle.
Time went by unnoticed as I relished my new position in life, that being totally not dead and very much alive, if a bit charred. 'Seriously, did heaven have to smite me so hard?'
I knew that was Heaven's typical method of getting their point across, but damn did it hurt. No wonder Chuck hated being the messenger of God.
It took a long time for the buzz to die down, but as it did, I began to finally pull myself together. Standing up, the first thing I did was take a long, steamy shower. Paying my bandages no mind, I washed away the thick sheen of sweat and grime that coated my entire body. It was there that my thoughts began to clear up in earnest.
For instance, while I still had many questions, I understood what my purpose for being here was; make sure the future I've seen never comes into being. However, there were a few problems I'd have to address before coming up with any plans. Thankfully, one stop to a particular church near the outskirts should put those to rest. Until then, I'd have to lay low and pretend to be the same excitable, shy teen that everyone still saw me as. Sadly, that wouldn't really be all that hard. As much as it pains me to admit it, I'm still the same geeky kid I've always been, just a little wiser.
"Well, and a bit more mature, I suppose." I breathed as the hot water cascaded down my naked, unremarkable body.
Oh, I guess that's something I gotta get used to, for now at least. What I had referred to just now was my, to be frank, pitiful physique. Now, while I've never been the shining example of physical perfection, my previous journey had left me in the best shape of my life. I could finally run more than five feet before getting winded and had even managed to pack on some muscle. Now though? HA! I could barely climb a single flight of stairs without collapsing!
'Man, I sure was a scrawny wreck back then, before…before…'
I shook my head, clearing my mind of a few unpleasant memories, namely the ones leading up to my untimely demise. I knew I'd have to deal with the past at some point, but not right this second. No, relish now. Bad thoughts later.
Ripping off my now ruined dressings, I was suddenly made very aware of the scar that ran from the top right of my chest to the far corner of where my left peck would be. It was shaped like a jagged cross, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was the same one a peculiar reverend sported. Filing that away for later, I quickly dressed myself in a simple t-shirt and some slacks before exiting my messy room.
Making my way past the many halls of the Rock Manor, I take a good look at the home that I had seen be destroyed before my eyes. It was kind of funny to think about it now, since I knew I didn't really come off as the rich boy type (mostly due to how I rarely slapped my wealth in other people's faces) but I had to admit, I kinda missed being loaded.
'Better than shacking up in some shady, filthy motel every night for months on end. Seriously, screw Oten City.''
I continued roaming around, having to constantly remind myself that, as of right now, it was my home. I couldn't help it as my mind raced with all the possibilities this place could provide me and my soon-to-be allies. Not to mention the fortune I had access to. I had all but given up on ever living this kind of life again since my dad disowned me. After that whole debacle with the mayor and his "daughter", I guess he had no use for me.
Now, let it be known that I was never one to hold a grudge. It often felt like I was one of the few people in this world that could actually see the logic in most situations, even when it came to the supernatural. I had long ago come to the conclusion that my dad had, in all likelihood, been slowly corrupted by that asshat Corset. The Winston Rock I knew would never arrange a marriage with someone I didn't love. That didn't make the disownment hurt much less.
Of course, nothing hurt more than what happened after that, the day he-
"Brief?" a hauntingly familiar voice called out to me.
Whipping my head around, my eyes widened in shock at the image of my father standing there on the first floor, worry straining his face. Other than that, however, he was totally unchanged from how I remembered him. Even in the comfort of his own home, the man was never out of a suit, and that beard of his was still as finely trimmed as always. Yep, still the same uptight bastard I knew so well. The same man who had almost married me off to someone I barely knew.
The same man who had died in my arms.
"Dad?" I managed to mutter, feeling the air being ripped out of my lungs.
"Son, what are you doing out of bed?" he questioned sternly, but I was still having a tough time coming to terms with the whirlwind my feelings had become.
"Uh…um, I…" I could hardly breathe, much less talk.
Unbeknownst to me, I had been slowly making my way towards him, unable to so much as form a single coherent sentence.
"Brief?" my dad stated, no doubt a little put off by my unresponsive attitude, "Are you okay? Did you-?"
As soon as I stood a good three feet from him, I closed the distance in an instant, practically tackling the poor man in the tightest hug I could manage. Which wasn't saying much, but still. It took the old man a minute to respond, no doubt shocked by his son's sudden affection. Eventually though, he returned the hug with one of his own, nearly suffocating me in the process.
I didn't care. I was just happy to see the man.
"It's okay, son. You're going to be alright," soothed my father.
In all likelihood, Winston probably thought my brush with death was to blame for my sudden breakdown, but again, I just didn't care.
Being carried back to my room was more than a little embarrassing, but I sucked it up and allowed the man to act like the scared father he was. In a moment of weakness, I asked if he could stay home for a couple of days just so he could spend some time with me. I knew the world was at stake right now, but I knew that if I didn't take this chance, I'd regret it for the rest of my life. Tucking me in, my dad couldn't help but smile, before agreeing to free up his schedule. After that, he wished me goodnight and closed the door behind him.
As soon as he left, I went back to staring at my ceiling, only this time out of sheer determination.
Here I was, in a world that knew nothing of the future some asshole had plans to steal away. I'll make sure to change that. This time, things will be different. While I doubted I'd ever make for a proper badass like a certain chaos causing duo, my knowledge of things to come would be the key to securing a better future. For me, and everyone else. One where the world didn't explode, where demons and angels could get along, and where I could lose my virginity without the risk of getting killed the very next minute.
My name is Briefers Rock, and I'm going to save the mother-humping world.
'Whelp, I guess I had better call Garter at some point. Hopefully he doesn't try to molest me too much this time.'
Two Angels and a Geek, with a Priest
...
Author's note:
Hey everyone! I'm back, and with a new PSG fic. Honestly, I came up with this after rewatching the series from start to finish.
For those who read my previous work, I know some of you liked the direction I was going, but I wasn't. I like this better, since it fills me with a better sense of closure.
In any case, if you guys happen to enjoy my scribbles, please follow/favorite, and if you want your opinions known, leave a review or DM me. I read everything.
See you next time!
Update 2/20/2022
Barely a few days later, and I'm already updating the damn thing.
The first half is mostly the same, but I recommend rereading the second half. I added a bunch that I feel should have been there from the beginning. This of course is only the start of my constant rewrites, which will plague this fanfic, but I assure you this will be finished, at some point.
Again, feel free to message me with any ideas or send me a review so that I know I'm on the right track. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.
Jss2142 has already offered up an idea that will make its way into here, so don't be afraid to make your opinions heard.
See you next time!
Update 3/1/2022
Okay, let me explain something. I don't have an editor, nor am I the patient type. As soon as I finish what I think at the time is a good enough job, I publish it. It's only after that I reread it and see what I don't like and I want to change. This is the last time for this chapter (I hope), but hey, at least I practically double the damn thing from its original post!
Anyway, I see you guys later for Chapter 2.
Update 3/24/2022
No comment.
