"Talking"

'Thinking'

"Beings Of Power Talking"

Narration/ Internal Monologu

Chapter 1

Cold

How long has it been? Where am I? What's going on? All questions going through my head, but the most prominent one? WHY THE HELL AM I SO GODDAMN COLD?! Suddenly the unbearable cold ceased and I felt a warm calm wash over me.

The last thing I remembered was a siren, lots of screaming, and something falling out of the sky... Oh, yeah. I died. Hi. I'm Tobi, or I, was? I'm not sure. Anyway some idiot provoked another idiot and I guess one of the idiots started throwing atomic bombs. Now considering I lived in the good 'ol U.S. of A. I have a pretty good idea of which idiot's fault this is. Ahem, I miss Obama. It's scary really, knowing anybody has that kind of power.

I snapped my eyes open and took note of my surroundings, or lack thereof as I seemed to be standing in a literal white abyss. Okay… this is new, I think? Why does this seem so familiar?

Hang on... white void, infinite nothing, shit. I'm dead.

"Hello." I inhaled sharply at the deep baritone voice that seemed to come from every direction at once.

"Nope, nope, nope, nope. You've finally done it you crazy bastard. You've gone insane." I muttered to myself in disbelief as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"You are not insane I assure you," the voice rumbled.

"Ah yes the voice in my head inspires much confidence in my sanity," I quipped, a sarcastic grin showing through my panicked visage. Then the voice spoke again.

"Such a sad mask you wear, covering up that broken interior with snark, sarcasm, and false emotion." The patronizing tone froze me in place as the voice's existence turned far more sinister to me. It knew. What else did it know?

"Hey! I don't wear a mask I just dislike social interaction you first year psyche student fuck-twat." I said, sneering. This was obviously not the correct decision, as flares of pain ripped through my head.

My screams ripped through the endless white infinity as I fell to my knees, my hands clutching my head. The pain eventually dulled and I shakily stood up, my breathing haggard as I searched desperately for the voice, "Do not test me boy. You are lucky I've more patience than my brothers and sisters."

"So… you got a name or should I refer to you as Lord Douchebag the twenty first?" I asked, filling my voice with as much sarcasm as humanly possible even as it cracked and wavered.

"My name is Michael," he answered, unamused.

"Like the archangel?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I knew it! You're a holy chicken!"

"Cease your insolence now! I was named after the great archangel and was blessed with his power!" he boomed, his voice shaking the nothingness around me, "You shall be sent to the Ninth Circle of Hell where you shall drown in the blood of those you've killed, and freeze in a cage of your sins." I could practically feel the smugness rolling off of his voice.

"What? What are you talking about? I didn't kill anyone."

"You had no right to decide if they were deserving." He responded angrily,

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Your attempts at lying are fruitless, Abbadon," he finished, as confusion at the false accusations overtook my anger, but before I could ask what he was talking about, a white light burned through my irises.

The cold was back -in fact it was all I could feel- alongside the steadily growing pain in my lungs. I heard the crackling of ice as the cold increased and I realized, I'm under water. I swam frantically for the surface with my eyes screwed shut, spurred on by the cold. As I broke the surface I tread in the endless ocean of freezing wa- not water, but blood? I looked every direction for any sign of land on the horizon, but any remaining semblance of hope evaporated at the ever expanding mass of red.

…

Eventually I had resigned myself to eternal damnation. I floated down, deeper into the crimson mass of blood. A small voice echoed in the back of my mind, whispering something I couldn't quite understand. At first it was quiet, insignificant (like my will to live), but it grew louder, stronger, till I could understand:

"GET THE HELL UP" The voice was livid. It screamed again and again until my eyes snapped open, taking in the inky black abyss above me. My first thought was, I should be dead, with this much weight on a frail human body with no oxygen. There'd be less than a zero percent chance of survival.

My second thought was, "JESUS CHRIST SHUT UP I'M AWAKE!"

The voice just snorted amusedly. "I am Abbadon, I can't believe I got such a weak wielder." He grumbled in my head like a child who didn't get the toy he wanted.

"You're Abbadon?" I asked, my eye twitching in irritation at the thing that got me sent to the 9th circle of Hell, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" I yelled (or tried to at least), because all that came out were gurgles and several large bubbles. Apparently the message got across, because he then said,

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience human, but if I did reveal myself you would've been vaporized on the spot. No afterlife, no rebirth, nothing." At least he had the decency to sound remorseful, I thought to myself bitterly, "However, I have a way out," he said ominously, garnering my immediate attention, "I've already gotten to work reinforcing your body and mind, but if you want to survive you will have to learn. So I ask you human, are you ready?" he really didn't have to ask, there was no way anyone would turn his offer down, so I donned a serious face (unfamiliar to me) and nodded grimly, I would escape on my terms, or die.

…

It's been two years; how do I know without a sun or a moon? Simple, I counted. After Abbadon's enhancements, my mind and body were much stronger. There are 31,536,000 seconds in a year. It has been 64,572,831, 32, 33 seconds since I arrived in this literal Hell.

It turns out the sea of red wasn't infinite, there were black mountains surrounding the red crucible and there were bodies piled up at the bottom. Whatever was here before me was either as sociopathic as me, or not human. I mean who else would make caves out of corpses? Another thing I had learned about my demonic mind companion was that he was in fact, pure nothingness given form. There were so many contradictions in that, but it was his explanation. He was the embodiment of the void, he had quite literally been around since before existence was created along with a few dragons. Of course, some idiot named god had come around, invading Abbadon's home and started putting things where they shouldn't be, but as the eons passed, he stopped caring and took a nap for a few thousand millenia.

After dropping a few bombshells on me (get it?) about the existence of multiple pantheons such as the Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Shinto, and Biblical ones, he left my brain alone for a few hours of rest. Abbadon had (thankfully) given me gills in my sides, reinforced my other internal organs, made my skin tougher, and gave me the ability to survive multiple months without food. Any food I would need was taken care of by the corpses. It turns out a giant freezing vat of blood made for a great fridge, and marinade for people steak. My natural internal body temperature was at least three times that of a normal human, and I could digest most poisons. Unfortunately the increased energy output required an equally increased energy input. Basically, when I did have to eat I ate, multiple hundred times the normal amount.

This brings me to question what I am. I'm obviously not human. Maybe just a modified humanoid?

…

It turns out that what fell out of the sky was not a nuke and instead a fight between a fallen angel and a devil... so... I guess it's not a certain idiots fault? Oops. My b.

...

"Stop thinking and get back to training." Abbadon yelled as I lay on the ground in the cavern of bones I had made, wheezing. My body may have been able to carry multiple tonnes now, but Abbadon's training regimen made surviving in Hell look like a light jog. Switching between one handed push ups with piled up corpses on my back and climbing the almost vertical mountains around the crucible for three days straight, or swimming from one side of the sea to the other without break made for a god-tiered workout. Needless to say, I was in constant pain.

Getting up slowly, groaning in exertion as I fought against an unfeeling clone of myself fitted with bone armor and a scythe made out of a spine for the staff, multiple sharpened ribs as blades, and some sinew to tie it all together.

Oh yeah. Magic was a thing, although that was kind of obvious with the whole living-embodiment-of-the-void-in-my-head and all. Abbadon said it was more hyper advanced technology than magic, but I don't buy it. The basis of most commonly practiced magics was an untapped energy in the brain. Using this energy one could perform magic by bringing forth that energy and pouring their intent into the world around them as words of power. An example of this would be the word Diuqil meaning water, with enough intent and power one could summon oceans with that single word, but real practitioners of magic would make strings of magic they called spells, line after line of power. Some even had the ability to use it without speaking or even giving a motion to cast the spells. One of the most basic spells that Abbadon taught me simply meant Grow Heavy, it's incantation was Esaercin Thgiewof course he used it to expedite training even more, but nonetheless I was still grateful. Ugh, back to training.

…

There are billions of people. Realistically, not all of them will be good people. Now that begs the question: WHY IN THE EVERLOVING NAME OF SATANIC RITUALS AM I THE ONLY NON CORPSE (read: Corpse in the making.) IN THIS ENTIRE GODDAMN SEA OF BLOOD?! Are you telling me they have spare mountain ranges to use everytime they get a new sinner? Or maybe they recycle the cages? And what happens if the sinner has wings, like a devil, or what if it's a fish person, or hell what if they're just a corpse? I mean there are some Shinto demons that are formed when humans are trapped in caves and eat each other for survival. The synopsis of what I'm saying is I'M LONELY!

"What am I, chopped liver?" Abaddon grumbled in my head,

"No you're the annoying, childish, sadistic, elder demon that garners almost all of my hatred." I chortled at my guest's chagrin.

…

Four goddamn years. It took an Elder demon and I four years to find a way out of the 9th circle, but find it we did and by god (oh the irony) was it a glorious moment. It was during one of my regular workouts, swimming across the bloody ocean with corpses fashioned to my arms and legs, when I saw it. On the side of the mountain closest to me was a small crevice, it was at least half a kilometer upwards, but it was there. I released my weights as I brought it to Abbadon's attention. Digging my nails (that were fortunately impossibly strong), into the cliffside I began my ascent up the sheer face of the mountain.

As I lifted myself into the crevice my jaw dropped. Not only was there a massive hellish hallway, there was a gate made of what looked like pure black diamond. Over the top? Yes, but impressive nonetheless. Snapping myself out of my starstruck state I walked towards the gate, examined it, and realised I didn't have the key required to open it. So I punched it. Now in my defense it worked, and I was free, I also have no need for money because (A), I can move faster than signals from the retina to the brain can fire so if need be I could steal anything I want and (B), I have an Elder god in my head capable of the duplication of anything within my line of sight. Of course, he couldn't duplicate holy items or items that were made with holy elements or forged in places of high faith (with him being a demon and all). His abilities also didn't allow him to copy anything that had equal or more power, such as some of the sentient swords, Durandal being a prime example.

I looked at the open gate, taking in my situation. I'm a 27 year old, 6'2" half human elder god, capable of surviving anything save a few other elder gods and eldritch beings, with the embodiment of nothingness in my head and a mild case of sociopathy. Yeah… the supernatural world won't know what hit it, but first I need some proper goddamn food. I stepped through the gate, a bright light enveloping me before spitting me out in a bustling town. Yes, I know I look stupid in a ragged cloak with a massive grin on my face standing in the middle of the street, but Christ is it good to be back!

…

The cascading rain dripped off the rooftops into small puddles as I walked through the streets, surrounded by a group of six winged angels carrying blades imbued with holy faith.

"Really?" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Only six wings? I thought I was worth at least ten." I smirked, mock hurt in my voice, my hands snaking out of my pockets in preparation for the fight to come.

They moved first, lashing out with their glowing blades inlaid with gold. Leaning back at an almost ninety degree angle I smirked at my reflection in the passing blade as I took advantage of the flexibility practices Abbadon gave me (I refuse to call it yoga). This is gonna be fun.

A/N To be continued when I stop procrastinating. Cya.

-Blaze