Raging Demon Reaper
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Grim Tales. If I did, this would be on the SNAFU website.
nightmaster000- Oh yeah, that is going to cause a lot of ripples in future events.
bubbajack- Yes, Mandy's death is a temporary thing, assuming no one eats her soul. As for Clockwork powers, you got it backwards a little. He got hit by the sword's attack "because" his powers didn't work right.
Blood Brandy- Good guess, but no.
Cf96- The fight should be wrapped up by the end of next chapter, assuming it's as long or longer than this one.
DPSS- Probably not. I don't think Mandy likes the idea of giving away one of her most powerful weapons.
coldblue- First off, there was no second chapter, only one. And I would be surprised if you actually didn't like GIR, as it seems up your alley. Mixed reactions/feelings for Mandy's 'death' is expected, as she's a great character, but she is a bitch. Well, Junior WAS the oddball out, now he's the over achiever in the family. As for Grim, he has more than a few abilities to choose from to help him here. Jack, I have a surprise/plan for what's going on with him. On to Junior and Clone- their anger isn't just at how bad a brother they've been, but that's the primary thing that's driven him to this. Junior and Clone don't feel bad so much as confused. Every now and then, it occurs to them that things seem odd and they can't make sense of it.
Yes, Mandy is coming back. How you'll find out soon...Though I'm loving these ideas of your's to be honest. As for Dan, don't worry, he'll get his little badgers...let's just hope they survive their big brother. As for HIM, Junior won't get to him for at least until next chapter. Next is Grim- his power may seem a little odd, but it will be explained later by the Reaper himself. And as for HIM's and the others' point of views? Just read on.
On to your answers. 1. You are close to the truth, but it's a bit more complicated. 2. Well, you can judge for yourself if Jack is a challenge down below. 3. Ahh, true, but you're assuming that Junior wouldn't just replace his father if he killed him. 4. As I said, he'll have more than a few, but I think you'll like this one. 5. Bingo to his powers being disrupted. 6. ...I'll have to get back to you on if Junior's rage is like Hulk's. For some reason, the answer to that doesn't come easily. 7. My answer to this is that is potentially the same answer I gave to number three. 8. The reason no one has tried is because every time Minnie is mentioned, Junior just seems to end up angrier. 9. Well, he can see everything, I just doubt he consciously recalls every possibility or that he can account for everything due to free will. But yes, he has a good idea of which futures can still come. 10. Oh, you have no idea. 11. True on all accounts, but I imagine it is possible that a reaper in general could rip out her soul, I just imagine it'd be harder for anyone but Grim Senior. 12. All I know is that this family is going to have more issues after this. 13. Oh yeah, everything that happens here will impact Junior's future. Power like his does not go unnoticed after something like this. 14. As for Junior when he's fully rested and repower, don't worry, you'll get a look at that eventually.
As for your changed answer- Copycat! lol. Anyway, no, Sally is safe...currently at least. As for who is going to survive, I make no promises.
Regular speak
Thoughts and Emotions talking to person outside mind
Demonic or Animalistic speak
Demonic or Animalistic Thoughts
AN For a variety of reasons, I have decided to up the rating of this fic to M.
A figure sat in a wooden throne with a grim expression. The weight of his muscled figure would have made a lesser seat creek and break under its weight. He leaned forward with his head in his right hand, his unruly orange hair framing his shoulders, as he stared into a large metal bowl of liquid set before his seat. It was almost big enough to be a pool for young ones. However, the contents of this bowl were decidedly not something children should ingest. The brown color liquid spun in circles, seemingly on its own accord. The ripples morphed to show a town, besieged by a beast of Living Death, and it's horde of duplicates, and defended by an army of infernal humanoid horses.
The vision in pool stopped on the sight of the dead queen, her battered yet ever faithful knight having tore and slashed away the fleshy restraints that had been the instruments of her demise and now sitting by her in a mix of distraught helplessness and loyal protectiveness. The beautiful body, now healed of all visible wounds, was soaked in her own blood...and her chest still did not move. Her will was unbreakable and her body immortal...but even her athanasia had limits. The Queen of the Underworld would still be dead in all ways until long after this battle was decided. Her soul would literally be a sitting duck for any replica that came across her if not for the knight and even he might not be able to last long.
"You can't help her," A female voice called, a figure approaching to stand to the right of the throne, placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't visibly acknowledge her, but she could feel his tension lessen at her touch. "You can't go into the Underworld and anyone you send would be killed," She reminded evenly, staring at him intently, as if trying to read his mind.
The man let out a small laugh at that as he looked over his shoulder at her, "I thought YOU of all people would be happy with this situation. After all, when was the last time there was more potential for chaos, Eris?" He asked. Any other time, the question would have been obviously teasing and playful, but now the tone contained a hidden edge to mark the seriousness of current events.
The goddess snorted lightly at the inquiry, "Honestly, and not counting the obvious, not since the Gigantomachy," She answered, more serious than she usually would be. "But this...this is more Ares's kind of chaos than mine," She answered with distaste.
The warrior laughed, a bit of genuine mirth this time, "Love, if you were honest, you'd admit that the only real reason you do "not" like this carnage of Mandy's son is that you don't want me involved in it," He retorted, giving her a look that dared her to deny the accusation.
She sighed at that, "Fine, I'll admit it. Even if you could go into the Underworld to help the Bitch Queen, I still wouldn't want you to," She grumbled, cursing her lover's ability to read her so well.
"It wouldn't matter, eventually. If Grim's Heir isn't stopped soon, if he gets even one significantly potent soul, than this battle will be unchangeably tipped back in his favor. Then he will spread his horde to the other realms and eventually not Heaven, Olympus, or anyone else would be able to stop him. If this child isn't stopped there and now, than Ragnarok is truly upon us all," The orangette retorted solemnly, glaring hard into the pool.
"...Than what do you do intend to do?" Eris asked curiously. She wasn't sure that the Prince of the Grim Clan was as dangerous as her beloved made him out to be, but considering the child's pedigree, she wasn't making bets against it.
The muscled figure smirked as he picked up a golden and jewel-encrusted goblet on the left arm of his throne, filled with the same intoxicating liquid as the viewing bowl, "Just giving a bit of life back to the Queen of Death," He answered wryly before taking a long drink from it and sighed contently as he poured the remainder into the pool, seeming right onto the Immortal Queen's face...
Halloween Town
Clone had come to a decision; he hated not knowing. To be left in the dark and draw up his own hypothesis from the limited conscious knowledge he currently possessed. He hated that feeling on the edge of his mind that he should know something yet didn't. To be so close yet so far away from understanding something. All he kept asking himself today was 'Why?', over and over again, and rarely getting answers. Why didn't these enemies hate him, why did his chest hurt when he killed the Red eyed one, and- right now- why was the skeleton fighting so much harder NOW?!
However, he had no time to ponder these questions anymore as the King of Halloween fought like a beast from the very pits of Hell. Clone, and Junior, had assumed that the pumpkin-headed form of fire had been the skeleton's greatest form, that that was all he could bring to the table. The unnatural hybrid was wrong though. In his state of madness, Junior and his clones did not have the capacity for fear. What they did have, though, was a decent substitute: caution. Not fearing his opponents did not mean he was not vigilant of their power. And this creature of death was far more powerful now than he had been earlier.
Like some demented snake, Jack leapt over the Sword of Tengu and landed on all fours before grabbing onto the sword-wielding right arm of his foe. Clone growled in irritation as he was slammed into a wall of an alley, the skeleton now trying to choke the unlife out of his nephew's clone with one hand, or at least crush the spine, as the other hand held the sword-hand against the brick wall. Clone glared before slamming his elbows into the wall, making them both fall into the house. As they fell, Clone wrapped his tail around Jack's neck and used that to throw him farther into the structure, forcing the skeleton to break his grip on his foe. Clone used his momentum to land on his hands and then propelled himself upwards, hard. Hard enough to kick his foot through the ceiling and climb his way into the second floor.
Clone shook the wood splinter off of himself as he tossed the sword up lightly to hold it by the blade. He had learned by accident that if one only held it by the blade and not the hilt, the sword would not ignite with its electrical power. It wasn't very useful to hold it like so in a battle, of course, but it was a good fact to realize when wanting to be silent and unnoticeable.
He paused to take stock of his location-He was in a bedroom of some kind. Dark and dingy, like the entire town, the only lights coming from the rays of the moon outside and the infernal glow of Clone's eyes and mouth. The floor boards creaked at the lightest noise. He glanced back down below, into the hole, cautiously as he searched for his enemy's body. It had been a living room, and he had thrown the Pumpkin King into a fire place...and he had already gotten out of the rubble, judging by the disturbed pile of bricks.
Clone narrowed his eyes as he stepped back and turned his head sharply, scanning the room again as his instincts sent alarm bells off. Slowly and thoroughly, every Nergal eye of his body searched the room for something, anything that would indicate a sign of life in any form. There was nothing. Nothing to hear, nothing to see. Yet, he was not convinced of his own solitude...he didn't need to ask why to know what the feeling he had was. It was the sense of being hunted...Clone smirked in the dark. It all suddenly made sense now.
Eyes narrowing, Clone's bloody eyes snapped towards the closet with a scowl. Slowly and steadily, he crept towards it, the boards creaking with each step. In the dark, a figure scrunched her eyes shut and clamped a hand over her nose and mouth to hide her breathing. Clone reached the closet and slammed the door open, finding nothing but clothes. He snorted, seemingly in annoyance. The figure relaxed in relief...Clone smirked as he tossed the sword up again and grabbed the hilt before stabbing the bed next to him, the sparking-blade barely missing his prey.
With a scream, she leapt out from under the bed and ran for the door. She had almost turned the knob when the Goblin Sword impaled threw the door and into the floor outside, making opening it next to impossible. Shaking in terror, the figure turned to see her devourer standing before her, seemingly studying his prey as his image was engraved into her mind. How could she not? Her Death stood before her, what could one do but stare at it, mesmerized?
Black leathery cloak with spikes lining the head and a blood red spatter lining the edges. A demon face hidden in the shadows of the hood with red eyes glowing hungrily and his jagged mouth fixed in a scowl, but the scowl was still lit like the fires of Hell lapping at the crack of the Gates to the Infernal Pits. A long and slithering tongue licked a tooth, his insatiable soul-thirst showing even more. His arms were bones, mostly devoid of flesh from previous events she knew nothing of. One was just bone, but the left arm was charred black. She could still feel the heat on it. His tail waved ominously behind him, made of dark grey-black demon flesh with an axe-like blade at the end. His legs and feet were humanoid with the same flesh but with blade-like claws instead of nails. She couldn't help noting the several red eyes on his flesh, but none looked at her.
Clone was also studying her, in a way. If he had all of his memories, he would say she was a witch and a young one at that, as she stood even shorter than him. Her green face was clean of boils and any other blemish, her eyes watching him in terror. Her mind had already accepted the inevitable, as she didn't make a single move. Her soul wasn't much, but it would make a decent meal. Not to mention...it smelled very tasty.
With a smirk now on his face, he reached out with his right arm, almost agonizingly slow for the young witch. Her eyes were wide and shaking as the Prince of Death poised to take her pathetic soul, his bone fingers inches from her face. A lone tentacle slithered on down from his shoulder, wrapping in and around his skeleton arm. It creeped out past his hand and she flinched as it touched her cheek. Suddenly, her terror was doubled. Behind the figure of Demonic Demise, The Lord of All Hallow's Eve faded out of the shadows of her ceiling like a silent Angel of Horror. He made not a sound as his long legs stepped onto the bed and dresser on the other side of the room. His face was distorted with an angry yet silent roar as he reached out his arms to tear asunder the Demon Reaper. Starring at her Death and her King, the witch wasn't sure who scarred her more...
What happened next made her faint. Clone's smirk grew as he spun around, his tentacle grabbing the hilt of the Sword of Tengu and causing it to spark to life as it was ripped out of the door and slashed across a great arc, burying into the skeleton's chest as the force from the blow forced him to stand between Junior and the window wall. Jack saw the smirk and knew his nephew had him. All the Pumpkin King did was give a snarling scowl as Clone sent a great bolt from the sword directly into his body, sending him flying through and out the wall. Clone sighed in relief as he walked to the new hole in the wall, looking down for his fallen foe. He snorted in annoyance as he saw the large crack in the ground caused by the Reaper-Beast's stomping, providing an opening right into the sewers below. He doubted the skeleton had given up the ghost.
He paused to look back at the witch, unconscious from pure fear. He could have reaped her with his axe-tail when he spun on the skeleton, but he hadn't. He was wearing out, he could feel it. The constant regeneration and fighting was starting to wear him out faster than he could refill himself with souls. The other skeleton's arm was not giving him the great boost he hoped it would yet. For some reason, it was digesting slowly. Still, as small as this female soul was, it would work to his advantage.
He glanced down at the watery underground passage way again before turning back to her as he remembered his new conclusion, his answer to his whys. The beings that fought him- the Red-Eye, the Horse-Faces, the Ghosts, etc.- did not hate him because they were the predators of this land and he was on their territory; it was nothing personal. Prey hate and/or fear Predators for hunting them and Predators fight for the right to hunt somewhere. Hate was something they were too busy for. That made sense to him. They didn't want him to hunt here and he had been too angry and hungry to care. Everyone else just hated being on the menu.
Without another thought, he turned and jumped into the gutters of the ruined town, leaving the witch's fate up to whatever chances await her this night. After all, the fate of a gluttonous dragon is to ultimately starve...
In the Reaper-Beast
Junior was officially in defensive mode now. All throughout this battle, if one could call it that, there had been few true variables he couldn't account for in terms of power. The people of this land were not very powerful and easy prey in all regards. The flaming-horsemen were a challenge, but they were all about equal in power. The green one with the mace and 'Uncle Nergal' were far more formidable foes, but like rocks in a river, even they would fall to the undying clones and their Chief Clone.
Then there were the Ghosts. Both strong, one now on Junior's 'Eat Slowly and Painfully' list, but the other that was now in his 'Belly' avoided fighting for some reason. Junior would call him a coward on that one if it weren't for the absence of the fear that the specter should possess in such a situation as this. The red-eyed one had been the biggest variable to him for most of the battle. Analytically, there was nothing to worry about, she was just a very skilled soul. But Junior was a creature of instinct, not intellect. And his instincts were what told him two things- she was the enemy Alpha and she was very, VERY dangerous- and his instincts had been right so far in those regard.
The skeletons though, they had been the least of his concerns for the longest time now. They both had power, great power, but he sensed something...something trying to...hide their powers? Suppress them? He didn't know. All he knew was that the power levels they used for the fighting was not a great threat in the long run. Now...something was different, with both of them. They were showing more and more of the true power he sensed deep within. It was like the surface of eggs chipping away...to reveal the full grown, snarling dragons within.
Now, with the stronger of the two skeletons fighting his very soul, and the other one fighting his very drained clone, Junior was trying to salvage this situation. He really wished Clone had eaten Uncle Nergal instead of kicking him into the sewer, or the Red-eyed one instead of turning her into swiss human. They needed to get more energy soon or dealing with the incoming army would be a very tedious thing. And to be honest, he was getting tired of hunting in this place...he was getting tired in general, actually...
He was brought out of his musing as Grim slammed his scythe down on the trident that Junior had acquired from one of the tentacles of the armory that his 'Belly' had become. Unlike earlier, the scythe came down with such force that it cracked the trident; that had been happening a lot. The reaper was systematically breaking every weapon Junior brought to his defense. There were still many weapons, but this was proving fruitless.
His eyes went wide as...something...punched him in the gut. If he were human, he'd be spitting and pissing blood now. As it was, he was just gasping in more pain than he thought he could feel. He grasped his stomach, his spirit-hoodie slashed up where the impact was made and glared up at the smirking reaper, narrowing his eyes as he "saw" it. Junior wasn't sure what 'it' actually was, just that it was substituting Grim's arm. It was a large and bulky mass emerging from the reaper's shoulder, formed into a large hand with stubby, claw-like fingers. Whatever it was, it was clear in color and was only visible by a dark-tented distortion on the objects viewed through it. Junior was suddenly very happy all these tentacles were here or he wouldn't have been able to see it at all within the already pitch black stomach of the Reaper-Beast.
"Not often I have ta use dis in person, Son," Grim said with a smirk, his long 'arm' flexing in an almost complete circle. "Las time I did dis was against Alcaeus...Let's see if ya do beder dan de man dat dragged me dog out of de underworld!" The Lord of Death declared as he cocked his elastic-like ethereal-arm back. It shot forward so fast and was already so close that Junior knew he couldn't dodge. The arm hit him again...and his blood-curdling scream of pain echoed throughout the night.
Land of Tainted Souls
"Damn," His Infernal Majesty muttered from his conjured-up armchair, watching the battle through a demonic screen with the greatest of interest. The destruction, the carnage, and the pure rage the boy excluded! The heir of his greatest enemies had become his greatest ally in this last hour, and without even knowing it. Still, Mandy wasn't the Bitch Queen of the Underworld for nothing and had made a plan that put the hybrid at a disadvantage. Still, her boy had pushed her farther than anyone ever had during her reign and had even done what many thought impossible; he had killed her. If he hadn't had that brief lapse back in madness, he would have devoured her...Though, he supposed that was a good thing long term. A Demon-Reaper with Mandy's soul in his arsenal? That could probably be too problematic, even for HIM.
He sat in a cave in his realm, a little getaway his arachnid servant had set up. Said spider was standing nearby, watching and shivering all the while. Mimi, HIM's daughter, was watching the events on the screen with occasional surprise on her otherwise blank face. She was tasked with both keeping an eye on the still unconscious angel, now pinned by webbing to a wall, as well as keeping their captive in a semi-trance of sorts. Speaking of which, the soul of Minnie stood by the lobster-claw-handed demon's seat with red-glazed over eyes. Even with the magic of HIM and HER keeping her conscious mind subdued, she still wept silently with no facial change, as she watched her brother tear the town asunder like a child-god of war.
"Grim Junior certainly has surpassed all expectations," HIM praised as he leaned on his cane, starring at the screen contemplatively. "But it seems that he has stretched his power too thin to defeat and devour Death himself, especially with the old fool Clockwork giving backup," He deduced, not being able to see within the Reaper-Beast, but taking the lack of movement from the great abomination that Grim Junior was not doing well against Grim Senior.
"L-lord HIM? Are y-y-you sure it was a good idea to take her soul?" Jeff asked worriedly and privately wanting to send the poor girl back to her family and wanting this all to end. However, he had learned long ago not to directly say such things to the red demon lord. HIM appreciated a silver tongue after all, and wouldn't punish implications he didn't like without a warning…usually.
"No," HIM answered, to his servant's and daughter's shock. "It was the only idea, really. This girl is the only direct link to the boy I can use and therefor the only chance to turn the boy to our side, as a beast or not," He explained, truly not sure what Junior's mental state would evolve into in time. He could stay a beast or return to some form of sentiency.
"So, this is your doing then, fiend," The Redeemer accused, now awakened from his forced slumber. Mimi was about to use her trusty STFU iron when her father raised a claw to stop, smirking at the screen. "I knew the boy's soul wasn't tainted enough for this level of godless slaughter and butchery."
HIM did something he rarely did; he laughed. He honestly laughed so hard he might have fallen out of the chair without the cane to hold onto, "Ohhh, I assure you, choirboy, I wish- I truly WISH I could say that I am responsible for this! Such terror, such bloodlust, such hatred and madness, such hopelessness!" He cheered with enthusiasm, before sighing dramatically and reclining back into the chair. "But alas, if there's one thing I hate, it's to take credit of an atrocity that isn't mine- unless said credit is offered, of course. Perhaps you just didn't look deep enough into his soul," HIM said cryptically before smiling evilly.
"What do you speak of with your trickster words, foul beast?!" The angel demanded, glaring through his mask, pulling against the admittedly strong webbing coating him almost completely.
"Just because I didn't cause it, doesn't mean I didn't know the potential that dwelt within that Reaper's soul," HIM explained simply, feeling the stare of the angel that tried to piece together something he wasn't getting. "Though, it's really YOU I must be thanking, Phil Timper," HIM said, grinning at the near unnoticeable flinch. "Yes, I know who you are- or were rather- and all your trips into juvy. Then you went and got religious and started helping the needy," HIM said in a mocking and disgusted tone. "But we're not here to talk about what you did, but what you've just done," The Infernal Tempter said wickedly.
"Speak plainly, twister of words and souls!" Redeemer demanded as HIM sighed in utter annoyance.
"Haven't you figured it out yet? That beast, that boy is going to destroy Heaven, Hell, and everything in between...and it's your fault!" He declared, smirking triumphantly.
"I had nothing to do with the mayhem caused by that reaper-child!" The holy warrior protested, wishing his glare was enough to burn the clawed-demon with heavenly flames.
"You had everything to do with it!" HIM retorted, his voice taking on an echoing quality that demanded silence as he glared over the top of his shades at the righteous soldier of heavens, "The blame for this boy's madness and all he slays from this day onward rest squarely on three souls and only three souls. Oogie Boogie, who kidnapped the boy and killed his sister, all in attempt to acquire power that he could never comprehend. You...you who took a little girl from her home and brother, regardless of if it were to a supposed paradise. Said brother, new to demonic power that is infused into his reaper powers, sits helplessly as the, oh so righteous Warrior of Heaven forces his sister to leave him. What did you THINK would happen? Did you think that would be the end of it? Ha! The arrogance of the Heavens truly knows no bounds," HIM said, distaste clear in his voice.
"And who are you to speak of such things, when you have done far worse to your own?!" The angel retorted, "I did my duty, I took a pure soul out of these pits!"
HIM shrugged without care, "The difference, fool, is that I don't pretend that what I do is for some greater good or that who's name I do it in makes it any less an evil. Hypocrisy always smelled horrible to me and Heaven reeks of it. As for the girl's purity, you should really get your eyes checked," He answered plainly and bluntly, than sighing before his captive could give a retort. "Enough of this." He ordered, waving his claw at Mimi as he sat back in his chair.
"Wait! You said three souls?" The angel asked hurriedly. Although he refused to believe this trickster's version of things, he preferred hearing all of a lie to better understand the liar.
"If you haven't figured that out then you really don't need to know," The Lord of the Land of Tainted Souls answered simply, sitting back in his chair as his daughter slammed the iron into the holy soul's face, knocking him back into unconsciousness.
Jeff gulped as he watched the exchange silently. He hadn't seen HIM like this in a long time. To anyone else, it might seem normal for the ex-crossdresser, but to those that had been forced to endure more constant exposure to the devil's personality, the difference was almost tangible; the way he walked, the way he talked. This was probably about as close to genuinely happy as he got. And a happy HIM was bad news for everyone. Jeff had thought about releasing the angel, but he knew that without something to keep HIM from noticing and to distract Mimi, he knew it would be a futile attempt that would just end in his own death, or worse, and possible trouble for Mimi.
The arachnid was brought out of his musing as a pain-filled scream echoed from the TV, shaking the cave lightly to his and Mimi's amazement. His Infernal Majesty just frowned at the screen with narrowed eyes, "And so Death truly brings his own might down against his heir," He said musingly, knowing that Grim Junior was in a pinch. His chief Clone was doing better, but the real one, the very Soul of the Demon-Reaper was being caught up against a Grim Reaper that had obvious lost patience with the boy. "Never thought I'd be helping a Grim in this millennia," He added in light and twisted amusement as he grasped onto the skull of the weeping and entranced soul, his claw sparking with red devil magic.
Mimi looked from her father to the image of Clone trudging through the sewer. At the scream, his head snapped up with a glare and snarl, unknowingly to where he was being watched from. Mimi gave a small flinch as those red eyes seemed to glare into what was left of her soul. She visibly relaxed and sighed when he looked away and ran off for his prey. Jeff, seeming to understand what she was thinking of, placed a hand on her shoulder for comfort. He really hoped the Raging Demon-Reaper didn't come here...
Halloween Town Sewers
Okay, now Clone was pissed. Even now as he searched the murky labyrinth beneath the city's feet for his prey, he still knew and could faintly feel what was happening to his true self and it was pissing him off. How cowardly and spineless was that bag of bones to keep his power hidden, sneak into the Reaper-Beast body, and unleash it onto his SOUL. It was like the mere thought of the craven act made him want to hurl up the dastard's arm!
Realizing the futility of his aimless and enraged searching, he came to a dead stop as his final steps echoed throughout the tunnels. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and slowly through his nose. The hundreds of smells bombarded his nostrils like rain. The putrid smell of bodily wastes, the countless vermin covered in more filth than they would care to remember, and everything else dumped into this monster-made cesspool. Then there were the more recent smells.
The smell of blood was the most predominant scent. Most of it belonged to the Horse-faced warriors or to himself and his clones. Some of it belonged to more local inhabitants, but it was overpowered by the rest; then his nose found the smell…the smell of Death and bones, the scent of the skeleton. Then he picked up another scent...a familiar one. One that made him snap his eyes open in a small burst of rage.
Like an executioner to the gallows, he walked at an ominous and steady pace through the foul sewage, with an almost regal grace about him. The world seemed dead to him in that moment, heading towards his kill…he did not know how long or how many turns it took him to arrive at his destination. He paused as he rounded the corner, taking in the sight. There, groaning on his side was Uncle Nergal. Or what was left of him.
His legs were still wrecked, but it was obvious that he had wrapped several tentacles around them to try and support himself in an effort to walk. His wings were still not healed and wouldn't return for a long while now. The right arm hadn't even attempted to reform. His darker-green blood pulled around him in the lime green sewage water. It was pathetic, seeing a great warrior in such a state. Clone doubted the half-breed could even see the red-eyed reaper through the emerald blood blinding his eyes. In Clone's mind, killing him would be more of a mercy at this point than anything else.
One of Clone's still fleshless arms reached for the Sword of Tengu, hanging from his back by a few tentacles, and then stopped. Even with his intelligence and memories limited, the idea of using a lightning sword in ankle-deep liquid still came across as a bad idea. He knew no simple shock would harm him significantly, but he was already running low on energy. Unless he started eating rats again, he couldn't afford to waste any right now, no matter how insignificant.
He blinked as something made his head-thorns stand on end. He looked over his shoulder, down the tunnel, but saw nothing. Yet his instincts still said something was wrong. His head snapped to his left as he heard a screeching metal sound…there was nothing there either. He snorted and decided to finish off 'Uncle Nergal' then deal with whatever he was sensing and hearing. His eyes went wide as he saw that the injured demon was nowhere to be seen.
Again, Clone didn't feel fear in its true form, but he had the oddest feeling that he had just walked into a trap.
There was another screeching noise, and Clone wasn't sure where this one came from. What was it? A beast? No, not unless it was made of metal. Clone snapped around as he got that feeling again, and finding nothing there again. Then, he sniffed curiously as his sense of smell caught something. There beneath all the filth, death, and blood, was the answer to the mystery. He spun around and launched a ghost ball down the tunnel, lighting the darkness as it went. He barely saw the figure phase through the wall; it was the ghost.
But what was he doing? The ghost was no coward; he had been reveling in the battle. Yet here he was, playing some game of hiding and sneaking. Clone snarled as another metallic screech grated against his ear drums, echoing throughout the catacombs. What were they up to!? He blinked as he saw something from one of the clones. He saw the skeleton leaping and crawling around a large crack in the ground. As another screech came about, he realized the reality of his predicament.
He tried to take off running, but the minute he got to an intersection, he was shot by a ghost beam, "Just where do you think you're off to, maggot?" Dan asked, smirking as he popped his knuckles. "The party is just getting started!" He declared, sending an ecto-energy wave at the replica. Clone dodged to the side, barely, as the wave hit into a wall. He didn't have time to truly notice Dan now next to him until the Phantom was punching him with a ecto-energy enhanced punch, sending him several feet back, "Sorry about not giving you the first class treatment earlier," Dan apologized mockingly, rolling his shoulders as Clone glared at him from down the tunnel. "But being locked up for a few decades will give you some damn annoying cramps," He explained as the clone continued to glare at him.
"'Uncle Nergal?'"Clone inquired, spitting out the name of his defeated foe like it was a curse, wondering where the near-corpse of a body had gone.
"The tentacle guy?" Dan asked, chuckling as a white ring formed around him at the waist that then became two which traveled up and down him in opposite directions. As the rings passed over the ghost, Clone had a gob smacked expression under his hood, for Dan Phantom now had the form of an injured yet smirking Nergal Junior, "I have more than a few tricks of my own, kid," The transformed Dan warned in his own voice, just as Clone was hit in the back by a white ghost ray, sending him flying forward, right into Dan's knee.
The ghost changed back as Clone turned to see who attacked him and saw...another Dan approaching? "You're not the only one with clones!" Both Phantoms yelled, giving Clone a double punch to the face. They were ecto-enhanced, but they didn't need to be. Phantom could lift a tank on pure ghostly muscle and Clone got a double sampling of said strength.
Clone landed on all fours with an enraged snarl as he glared at the identical smirking pair. He gave a mental 'screw it' to this whole situation as he reached for the sword and swung it at them, two beams flying at his foes. One, presumably the original, ducked out of the way and phased through a wall. The other put up a shield of purple ectoplasm in an effort to stop the attacks. It held for all of five seconds before cracking and shattering, the Phantom clone disappearing as the shot ran him through.
'Damn, was hoping that blade couldn't break my shields,' Dan thought, floating in another area of the sewers. Now that the Reaper-Beast was out of his hands, he decided to deal with this bad boy of a clone. There were two issues though; one was knowing the limits of the Clone. The other was that he was severely out of shape, in a sense. He was still one if not the most powerful ghost to ever exist, but being so long in that thermos-and God only knows how much time had actually passed in Clockwork's realm- had left him and his power stiff and groggy. Back in his own timeline, he would have fought this thing toe to toe all day long. But now he was screwing up in more than a few ways. Still, like riding a bike, it was all starting to come back to him.
Shaking off his musing, he thought about how to deal with Clone a bit longer. That sword could harm him even if he was intangible, but thankfully its beams detonated on impact with walls. He got a nasty smirk on his face as he heard another screeching noise and saw Clone out of the corner of his eye, charging at him and electrocuting the sewer water as he went, 'Bring it on, kid.' He thought mockingly as he craned his neck to barely dodge a beam aimed at his head.
Clone leapt at him and the blade was just about to slice through Dan's skull when...it did. Only it didn't cut through ectoplasmic flesh. Instead, it went right through the grey-green gas that Dan's body had become. The red-theme Nergal hybrid growled in annoyance as he tried to fruitlessly attack Dan's gaseous body. The evil ghost just laughed mockingly and grabbed Clone's sword-wielding arm by the wrist. Four more of himself suddenly phased through the floor and quickly stuck their hands out, green ectoplasm wrapping around the axe-tailed child, like snakes in the form of chains.
Clone growled wrathfully as he was restrained. If it was just one of them, he could probably break free, but the four clones and the original were pumping enough energy into the glowing green chains that any cracks he made were fixed quickly. He raised an eyebrow as Dan formed his ectoplasm into what looked like a gauntlet on each hand. With a sadistic smirk, Dan grabbed the axe-tail that was about to slice the chains and then tore it off, making Clone howl in agony as his spine almost went with the tail. Taking advantage of his enemy's pain, Dan used his protected hands to pry the Sword of Tengu out of Clone's clawed hands, breaking at least two fingers backwards in the process.
Still smirking, Dan held the sword and grimaced as he quickly realized that it's zapping would rip through his gauntlets in short time. With that in mind, he pointed it upwards and blasted the ceiling with it. He and his replicas quickly flew away as a large piece of the stone roof fell down onto the still bound and now wide eyed Clone. Dan threw the blade away and grinned in victory as the dust cleared, seeing the head of the young monstrosity poking out from the pile. Dan was brought out of his musing as another screeching sound rang out, followed by a very sharp and loud whistle.
"Well, that's my signal," Dan murmured as his doubles raced off at high speeds, phasing through walls. The ghost that never existed gave one last smirk to the hybrid and stomped on the rubble. The battered Clone glared up in weak defiance, "Sorry I couldn't finish you off, but look at it this way. You'll have one hell of a tombstone!" Dan joked with a evil laugh before tilting his head back and letting out a ghostly wail, as did his own clones from their various locations, shaking Halloween Town at its very foundation. Dan himself stopped to give one last laugh before letting out the wail again, firing it at Clone's face. Dan swore he saw the red glow of the eyes and mouth flicker off and on a few times. He took this as a sign that the clone was finally dying and smirked before shooting up and phasing through the street. As he did, the sewer began to cave in, burying Clone in as at least an entire town block collapsed on him...
Nowhere
HIM stood in a world of white. It was not the pure white of the Holy Heavens, but the white of nothingness; a blank world. The only blemishes were the small shadows beneath him, seemingly struggling to exist themselves in this realm. With the utmost calm about him, the red demon slowly scanned his surroundings for anything out of place, moving slow as if he would disturb something if he moved too quickly or suddenly. Even his cane he held at the staff, showing no intent to use it, for show or not. He gave out a curious hum when he had turned around completely and saw nothing.
Then he smirked with a small chuckle that echoed throughout the blank realm. He calmly and slowly turned back to see what he had been looking for, seemingly appearing from nowhere. There kneeled MiniMandy, looking almost like she had never died…almost. She was dressed in her green dancer outfit, complete with red-brown legging and black shoes. As she knelt, she let out these odd sounds that seemed like moaning and weeping, but in slow motion. They echoed as though they were the only thing that existed. The image was both completed and disturbed by the utterly helpless and sorrowful look in her single grey eye.
Minnie's right eye was gone. Out from the eye socket, many small tentacles emerged, with an empty black hole visible in the middle, a mocking imitation of a real eye. It almost looked like they were still wiggling and crawling out at agonizingly slow pace. They went around the side of her head and down the side of her face, traveling and wrapping around her right arm and side like some kind of half-finished costume. His Infernal Majesty followed the length of the appendages onto the floor, noting that they got larger and seemed to branch off and multiply. HIM followed their path and found that they led right to and around his feet and past him, seemingly always there. He made no sign of being surprised or alarmed by this. With the same caution as before, he gradually turned back around and never took his eyes off the tentacles.
He followed the path of scaled flesh as sounds of the bemoaning Nergal-child disappeared and he saw where the tetecles led, his gaze rested upon a sight that made the red demon grin, "And I gazed upon a blackness so deep that only The Dark could have been the genesis of such a heinous being," He iterated, approaching It. "Within It, I could behold naught but the red orbs of a beast, lurking in wait. What lay within, I cannot guess and can only dream and wonder. For only The Dark can see the design of the unrealized. The aphotic soul towered as high as the loxodonta steeds of the savanna, yet the crimson gaze could not have been higher than I! Of the edges, I thought my sight might have spied something slithering. A snake? A worm? Or perhaps something far more sinister?" He continued as he came to stand just before it, starring appraisingly.
"I stood before this blackness and could not help being filled with relief. Ally or Foe, Beast or Warrior! The mere fact that such beings can still be bred anew into these realms...Such assurances grant me release from the creeping despair of stagnation!" HIM declared, holding out his arms like a preacher reaching out to embrace his congress. He lowered his arms and continued, "The eyes, blazing with neither hate nor kindness nor respect nor fear, rested on me in mere acknowledgement. I said onto that terrible, abeyant pneuma, 'Your battle will be lost, Child. Your foes are Time, Evil, and Death themselves, and many more! You are not yet ready to face such things alone. Care for the assistance of this old Lord of Sin?'" HIM went on, smirking as he said his final part, his claw stretched out slightly. "And the reply to me was..."
There was a long silence that rang throughout the realm and it was deafening. Not even a breath could be heard, if another was there to witness this event. HIM did not look alarmed or confused or even angered by the lack of answer. He merely gave a chuckle, smiling devilishly as he turned as if to leave, tapping his cane for the first time and the tap echoed like thunder. The Lord of the Underworld only smirked as he was met with the same red eyes inches from his face when he fully turned, "And the reply to me was...?" HIM repeated, more prompting and questioning as those orbs just stared on, as if judging him.
In the Reaper-Beast
Grim fought the urge to break down as he took in the sight of his son. Junior's soul was breathing heavily as it stood on all fours, struggling to stay up as his solid red eyes glared defiantly yet weakly. His body and outfit were cover in lacerations, the blood of his soul soaking and caking his flesh. If Junior were truly human, he'd be dead right now. Every nerve in Grim's body felt disgusted with himself for doing this and it took everything he had not to rush to his child's aid. Still, he put on a mask of confidence, not daring to give Junior the edge and let him sink any deeper into this madness. All around him, the tentacles laid and twitch in their own agony, all ripped asunder by the ethereal power of Death, pools and geysers of green blood forming everywhere.
Nergal Senior, his arm and neck healed, knelt by Clockwork to keep an eye on the ageless ghost. He may not like Grim, but he couldn't help feeling sympathy for the old bag of bones. To be in a situation where a parent had strike at one's own child as if they were an enemy...he could not imagine the heart wrenching that would cause a parent that truly loved their child. And it wasn't just the fighting...If Nergal Senior had done anything like this to his own child, he wouldn't be able to bear to look the boy in the eye again, remembering his handiwork every time. It sent a shiver down the old demon's spine.
Clockwork opened his eyes groggily. He hadn't suffered an attack in a long time and a blast from the Sword of Tengu was a bit much for him. He groaned and slowly floated off the floor, faintly hearing Nergal Senior saying something to him that didn't quite register. He grabbed his staff on pure instinct before looking up at the carnage that had taken place in his absence and rubbed his head as he tried to clear his head and re-grasp the situation. He looked almost shocked at the injured form of Grim Junior and gained a perplexed look as he saw Grim Senior approaching the boy's soul, seemingly to reap him.
Clockwork knew that Grim would die before doing that. That was obvious to anyone that knew the man of Death personally. He knew that Grim would just knock out the boy and he also knew that that would get things back on relative track. Yet with every good path, there were possible bad turns in them. And Clockwork's acquaintance with pain had left his mind a bit foggy on what all those turns might be. The boy was too spent for most of the ones he knew. Yet he had this sickly feeling that there was one he was not seeing yet. And with the Reaper's Scythe raised high, he was out of time to realize what it could be...
Elsewhere
"Seems your interference was not needed after all, Love," Eris commented, sounding relieved for once that a scene of chaos was coming to an end.
The man on the throne raised an eyebrow at that claim, "What makes you think that, O Goddess of Discord?" He asked, in a knowing voice, his gaze never leaving the pool.
This inquiry put the golden haired goddess on edge. What had she overlooked?! "His head clone, his most powerful warrior is dead and buried. His army is running out of steam and about to face the full might of one of Mandy's armies, his behemoth body is crippled, and his soul within it is growing weaker and weaker now. He's cornered, out of tricks, out of steam, outnumbered, out gunned, and out of time. I doubt even all the deities of war and victory could turn the tables of this battle if they wanted," Eris reasoned, keeping her voice calm.
"Ahhh, yes. If he were anyone else, I too would be sure that his defeat was assured now. If he were anyone else, I wouldn't even be worried. If he were anyone else, I doubt he would have never gotten this far." He answered before sighing, "But there's still one problem, one thing in his corner...One thing that makes all the difference and trumps even the favor of the gods," He added ominously, glaring lightly into the bowl.
"And what is that?" Eris asked, trying to sound offended, but the curiosity and worry bled out.
With a grave and all too serious tone, he answered her, "That boy has too much of his father in him."
Nowhere
HIM simply nodded as he received his answer, "I bidded farewell to that most eldritch rudiment, and the greatest of luck with his apocalypse, before taking my leave," He said with a small, satisfied smirk as he turned one last time and began walking into the white nothingness, his body beginning to dissolve into red smoke.
The Demon Lord almost stopped when he heard something, just before he vanished from the realm. Something he didn't expect, "May The Dark haunt you eternally...Kare."
End of Chapter
I keep escalating the word count on chapters! This was over eight thousand without this AN and Review Responses. So, as you can all see the fight is starting to come to it's end. It should all be finished by next chapter, depending on how long I make it. Also, yes, I had Dan pull out some of his movie powers. I figured he'd think to use them at some point during this little war. Someone is watching out for Mandy and is connected to Eris. Pain got Mandy's corpse off the tentacle. Jack is injured, but apparently going alright, while a little witch almost got her soul scared out of her. Clone is down, possibly 'dead' even. Grim is pulling out his tricks, but is having emotional trouble fighting Junior in such a brutal way. HIM chews out the Redeemer and has a meeting with something in the middle of Nowhere.
To clarify a few things- Loxodonta is the scientific name for the African Elephant. Alcaeus is the birth name of Herakles. HIM's "name" is thought to be short for "His Infernal Majesty." Kare is the Japanese word for 'him', basically, and what the japanese version of the PPG called him- but the name has other purposes here as well.(hint) Three people had been the Redeemer in "Spawn Canon" and most people say that GT's Redeemer is Eddie Frank, but I like Phil Timper for it more. And just to make this clear, Dan's gas form is like his normal intangibility times itself- if an attacks hits that form, it can probably hit anything. Also, HIM can't see inside the Reaper-Beast, so anything he says regarding Grim Senior and his situation in there is simply best guess on HIM's part
Last few things here. Clone's reasoning is NOT meant to be perfectly sound. It makes sense to him and that's enough for him at the moment. He just wanted an answer to the Whys and that cleared things up in his animal mindset. Second, Clockwork's slight memory problem in relation to Timestreams- it's like any other kind of knockout people, everything doesn't always immediately come to you. Next, Dan's "Uncle Nergal" transformation- it's never revealed if he can turn into anything other than his younger self, but it seems likely he could. As for HIM's rant/ripping into Redeemer and the 'three souls to blame' thing, take that however you want.
QTP: Who is watching the fight with Eris, and why can't He come into the Underworld? What did he do to help? Who was the little witch and will we see her again? Is Clone dead and buried now? Will Junior fall to Grim Senior's scythe(blunt side regardless) or was there really a path Clockwork couldn't remember in time? Who was the third soul HIM spoke of? Will Jeff try something brave/stupid? Why did Mimi of all people flinch? Is the Grim Clan really going to able to get over this night, assuming their collective survival? Who is Grim Junior's father and what does he have to do with this/anything? What 'assistance' was HIM offering in Nowhere?
Lastly, if any of you readers/reviewers think you know or have an idea of what the Nowhere scenes are about than feel free to take a stab at it- WHAT Nowhere is exactly, what HIM went there for, why he was talking like that, what he saw and described, what the reply to his offer was, who spoke to him at the end, etc.
