Long day, sorry! Got my second ear piercings today, helped a friend with some drama ... serious stuff, dudes and dudetts. Oh! And yesterday I had my first real work day at my job, and everyone was so nice to me! Seriously! I worked cashier, and all of the customers were all super polite and understanding, and I thanked each and everyone one of them for their patience. Faith in humanity is still going strong!
Anyway, I promised a story-update-marathon-storm, so here's the continuation. :) It's 8:31pm right now! Let's see how many chapters I upload until tomorrow. This will be a catch-up chapter, just to see what the other characters are up too. ;)
Cheers!
**EDIT: I HAVE SEVERELY HURT MY BACK (19 going on 90 -_-) AND HAVE TAKEN THE DAY OFF. THE NEXT UPDATE SHOULD BE Nov. 10th, but no later than Nov. 11th. Thanks for being patient.)**
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. . . . . . .
Beelzebub stood at a distance as he cheerfully watched his new masterpiece. Astaroth had always called his various strategies disturbing, but to him it was an art form. His creations were living and beautiful; the various demonic parasites he injected into the demon kept it alive, but the mind dead. Beelzebub now had complete control.
He grinned at his work. The hybrid, Raziele, was on its knees, its eyes glazed and unfocussed as its pale skinned blackened to a color no different than burnt ash. Beelzebub couldn't help but be a bit surprised; the hybrid, despite its numerous flaws, was beautiful. Its darkened skin now accentuated its dazzling rose eyes, which had locked to a point on the horizon.
But Beelzebub wasn't vain enough to admire his work when there was a battle to be won. The Prince needed to be killed, and what a more poetic way to die than to be betrayed by a friend, stabbed in the back by the one's the Prince had trusted? It was no secret that the hybrid was fond of Rin; in fact, there was a rumor that Raziele had gone to Hades' prison in place of the Prince. It was a fascinating tidbit of knowledge, one that only highlighted how idiotic humans were. If Raziele was only half-human, he couldn't imagine how stupid pure-blood humans could be.
That said, he didn't particularly care either way. "Rise, Raziele," Beelzebub said. The hybrid slowly raised his gaze, its eyes half open and mouth partially closed, and stumbled to its feet. Beelzebub then pointed to one of the various demons locked in battle around them; whether the demon happened to be on his side or not, Beelzebub didn't care. "Kill it."
Raziele turned his eyes and his striking eyes focused on the demon in question, then suddenly was sprinting across the ground. Moments later blood arched in the air and, without listening for another order, turned to the next demon and killed it as well.
Beelzebub watched and laughed as his masterpiece dyed the earth red.
. . . . . .
Raziele was lost.
He knew he was lost; he didn't know where he was, or who he was, or where he had come from. All he could see were shadows and blurs; some moved, others did not. He wasn't sure why. A shadow suddenly passed across his vision, but then suddenly it vanished like ash as it toppled downward, out of his view.
Raziele slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again. Suddenly he was aware that the back of his neck slightly stung, and that the shadows weren't shadows at all ... they had mass to them, they were running at them, and Raziele had the strange urge to knock them down - permanently.
But why?
Who cares why, whispered a voice. Kill them all. They don't deserve to live. They have hurt us, sneered as us, left us to die in the dirt. They deserve to die.
Raziele calmed; that seemed to make sense. He was dimly aware of memories in a cell, something about chains, but he forgot the moment it crossed his awareness. He felt a blow across his back - something sharp pierced his skin - but, strangely enough, he felt no pain. Instead he felt his body twist and coil, his hand strike out and suddenly pierce something hard before going soft, like a bug's exoskeleton. When his hand was pulled out, it felt warm and wet, and he knew he killed whoever had hit him.
But why?
They hit us, whispered the voice again. But this time it wasn't a single voice but many, all whispering into his mind. They hurt us. They attacked us first. Kill them, kill them all.
. . . . . .
Sophiel tripped over a rock, or perhaps an arm, and hit the ground hard. A sword whizzed over her head and with a startled cry she darted forward once again, this time desperately clawing towards a shield. It was large and obviously too heavy for her, but she was faster than the demon chasing her and managed to swing herself around to its other side. The demon growled and slammed its claymore down; the shield trembled and squealed as metal bit metal. Sophiel turned to run, her heart in her throat.
She was now all too aware that she wasn't a fighter. She had tried; she had wanted to make Raziele proud, to make Rin smile at her when after the battle, but now she wondered if she would even make it to the end. She was tired - the battle had been raging for at least a day now, maybe more - and even though she had good stamina from her time as a slave, she knew that she only had a few hours at most. Even now she wondered that, if she pretended to be dead, she could take a quick rest and have no one disturb her. Of course, that ran risk of being trampled to death, but as time went on it seemed to be a better and better idea.
"Stop running!" shrieked a gravelly voice behind her, and she only ran all the faster. Suddenly there was a wet sound and, when Sophiel spun around in surprise, she saw Raziele standing behind the fallen demon.
Her eye widened. "Raziele," she breathed, stumbled towards him. She didn't notice that his eyes were dead, how his skin seemed darker than usual, how he didn't seem to recognize her. "Raziele," she said again, her lips beginning to form a smile. "I'm so glad to see - "
- you.
But all that came out of her mouth was a soft gasp, and she slowly lowered her gaze. An hand was sticking out of her chest, and she could feel nails scraping her rib bones. Her eye followed the arm up, up to the shoulder, and then slowly to its owners face. Then she paused, her throat tight, her heartbeat slowly fading away.
And yet Raziele continued to stare at her with his blank eyes, and it was only now that Sophiel could see the difference. Darkness slowly seeped into her vision. She welcomed it. She didn't want to see anymore.
"Raziele," she murmured. Blood bubbled from her lips like rose petals falling on winter frost and, with a soundless shudder, she closed her eyes and let the night fall.
. . . . . . .
Raziele turned and saw a figure moving towards him, its blurred body dark and indistinctive. It was saying a name, but the feminine voice was garbled and meaningless. His head hurt and, as the voices chanted kill kill kill kill, he struck down the demon. It remained upright and fell with only a whispered name - Raziele.
But when it fell, he noticed a flash a white hair ... and froze. He wasn't on a battlefield but in a room; a girl was standing in front of him, talking, and she had one violet eye and the other covered by an eye patch. So delicate, yet so strong, she was a survivor. He was idly aware that he loved her, yet could never bring himself to admit it. He was afraid to. He didn't want to lose her.
But with crystal clarity, he now knew that he had killed her. Sophiel was dead.
And suddenly the world snapped into focus. He saw the blood soaking the ground, the sun beginning to rise and dye the world a deep crimson, then bodies lying on the ground and the survivors fighting amongst the corpses. He saw the demons he had killed in a neat circle around him and, finally, Sophiel. She was lying in a puddle of red, her hair dyed scarlet from it, her violet eye glazed over.
He was also aware that his head was pounding, as if someone had piercing the back of his head with a red-hot poker, and he fell to his knees screaming. Voices were shrieking at him, but now he knew that they were all inside of his mind, and there were thousands. Each sounded different - a child, a woman, a man, elderly or younger - and all were shouting for him to kill more, more, more.
Raziele coughed. Red splattered the ground and he bent forward, his hands clutching the back of his neck. There was an odd lump there and he was idly aware of someone shouting as he drove his sharp nails in. He felt something move underneath his fingers and, with a wild cry, ripped it out and threw it. Blood welled up from the wound. He didn't bother to figure out what created it ... he didn't want to know.
But at least the voices disappeared. Raziele slowly turned his head, nauseous, to Beelzebub. The high-ranked demon was staring at him with a shocked expression, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Raziele swallowed hard as hate bubbled and pulsed within him like a living, heinous thing, and he slowly got to his feet.
Until he felt a hand wrap around his wrist, and when he looked down, he saw Sophiel staring at him. But not with one violet eye; the eye patch had fallen off, and now Raziele stared at the dazzling golden eye with an indescribable sense of awe and fear. Two deep gold halos circled the iris of the pale gold eye, and he could barely make out silver runes fading in and out of focus.
But, more than the eye, he was aware that she was alive. His eyes watered. "So - " he began, his throat tight, but Sophiel hushed him with only a glance.
Unspeaking, Sophiel rose to her feet. Raziele noticed that her puncture wound - the one he had created - had already healed, as well as her various cuts and scrapes. Her eyes, one violet and one gold, were locked onto Beelzebub, who was watching with a curious expression.
"My oh my," Beelzebub suddenly smiled. "I love eyes ... did you know that? I collect them and you, my dear, have a very special eye indeed."
Sophiel turned away from Beelzebub, disinterested, and turned to Raziele instead. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"Ah ... yeah," Raziele stammered, all too aware that Sophiel seemed ... different, now. Maybe even powerful.
Sophiel smiled, a ghost of a smile, before turning back to Beelzebub. "You're going to die now," she murmured, and then suddenly the runes in her golden eye began to glow silver.
And then Raziele didn't see anything at all.
...
...
Okay, I have to ask ... did I rush Raziele and Sophiel's point of view? D: I feel like I did. Well, actually, I guess asking about it doesn't really matter since I'm not going to go back and change it anyway haha
And as for Mephisto, he'll show up next chapter, I promise :) I haven't forgotten about him hahah
Aaaaand last but not least, I'll try to upload a chapter a day until the story is finished! Daily updates everyone, get excited. (I'm actually really excited. This story was published July 1st, 2013. That's over a year ago. This is also the 51st chapter of the story. This is like a whole entire novel, people. A novel. And I am so so so excited to finally end this thing!)
Oh, and one more thing... to those who were BEGGING me not to make it Sophiel x Raziele, TOO BAD. MY STORY, MY RULES. MUHHAHAHAHA
PS - I know I'm not replying to reviews anymore, but I just want to let everyone know that I read and love every single one! Thanks for taking the time to review, I honestly appreciate it!
xo
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