Not much to say here. Thanks for all the reviews and now that I finally have the CPU up and running, I can update. Oh well. Its been a long time on this story and well here is the first official chapter. Enjoy.
And it was unanimous (is that how you say it) Tsukune is definitely a Horsemen. You will find out which Horsemen later on and he will be Canon personality if I can help it. Half OOC and Half Canon at least. So yeah on with the story
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the clothes on my back. J
A seemingly ordinary man can be seen jogging down a long, wide hallway. The man has on white shoes. He wears white formal pants and a white buttoned down shirt that goes down his sleeves. The most noticeable feature is a pair of white wings that protrude out of the back of his shirt. It spans almost 10 feet from wing tip to wing tip. You can see the look of distress and worry over his face as continued his pace. He picked up his speed and broke into a light run, making clacking noises with each footstep.
The hallway belonged to a huge palace. The hallway was completely white, save for the long red carpet on the floor that guests walk on. On its sides stood white knight statues. They might look immobile, but only because they haven't sensed any hostility in the man, thus they haven't awakened. Besides the knights stood large white marble columns that ascended from the floor to the roof and seemed to go on forever. At the very end of the hallway were a few mini-steps that led to a single chair. The chair was only a couple feet away and it matched the carpet color perfectly. It had golden legs and armrests. The seat and back were fluffy red with golden markings. The strange thing was that it was empty. An empty chair at the end of the hallway.
The man halted at the foot of the steps. He kneeled down on one knee, put one hand on top of that knee. He balled his other into a fist and planted it on the ground at his side. He hung his head down in a manner of respect. The man was clearly distraught about something, but waited patiently for a sign. He did not want to act or speak out of turn.
Suddenly, a light enveloped the chair, lighting up the room, but the man didn't seem affected nor did the knights. The light died down a bit before it shrunk down into a small blue orb. The orb still had an aura of white light surrounding its edges and it was filled with immense power. One could feel it for millions of miles and it strangely felt comforting.
This orb was the substitute, or medium, for God's form.
"My Lord," the man said, "I'm afraid I have terrible news." He still had his head down as he wasn't given permission yet. He was practically sweating bullets, but didn't dare to let them show.
"Yes, Gabriel, I know. Now rise." God said. He spoke in a deep commanding tone, yet it held a comforting regal background. The man, now known as Gabriel, did as he was told, all the while having a slightly shocked look on his face. His Lord knew what had happened? Then again, it was to be expected. He regained his composure and stared at the orb.
"My Lord," he began again, "Then you know that The Book has been stolen?"
The orb/God remained floating there for a few seconds, hovering in the chair. "Yes. I have known something was wrong the moment I sensed Michael in turmoil."
God had seen all of what had taken place on Earth. Michael had been personally sent to retrieve The Book for the Lamb. The Book was hidden down deep in the Earth's lava core to prevent anyone, demon or angel, from getting it. Michael had gotten the correct clearance from God to access the location and the get The Book. He had only sent one as not to arouse suspicion from the other realm. It was a quick in and out, but something had happened. He had been intercepted by two forces. One of them was immensely powerful than the other and both putting off a major amount of energy. The Archangel didn't stand a chance and soon fell to the unknown villains. He had lost the battle and The Book. God sensed the two beings fly away from the area and had issued his Angels to recover Michael. He had suffered many severe injuries and was treated with the utmost care. He had regained consciousness after quite a while and had spilled everything to Gabriel. The battle, the mission, the disguised opponents, The Book, everything. Gabriel immediately ran to His Lord to give the news, which is what brings us here now.
Gabriel stood in silence, contemplating what had happened and what to do now. Michael was a very powerful Angel and had been tasked with gathering The Book of the Seven Seals, which he failed. Gabriel and half of heaven knew what that meant. One, it meant that Judgment Day was upon Earth. That the end of days was soon and very soon. Two, it meant that someone powerful enough to defeat an Archangel had taken The Book to somewhere off radar. 'Why?' was the question though. Why would someone want to hold off the Day of Reckoning? All angels and Demons knew that it was taboo to interfere with Judgment Day. To interfere was to bring death and non-existence upon oneself. So why would anyone dumb enough steal The Book?
"Gabriel." God said, still deep in voice. Gabriel was brought out of his thoughts and stood up straight.
"Yes, My Lord." Gabriel waited patiently. He wanted to know what to do next. He needed to help in any way possible. What His Lord said next made him falter only slightly.
"Bring me…Them."
Gabriel's eyes widened at that. He knew immediately what His Lord meant. He trembled a little at the thought of who He was talking about. He didn't want to believe it and asked, "Which one, My Lord." Gabriel tried to calm his shivers, but only to the point of goose bumps. Surely, He didn't mean all of Them, did he? Gabriel's hopes were crushed as the orb uttered only three words.
"All of Them."
Gabriel's body spasmed a little, as if a lightning bolt had stricken him and he looked down at the floor in horror. He meant to summon all of Them. They who struck fear into the hearts of Demons and Angels alike. They who were second only to The Lord himself. They who have never been fully reunited, fully together, fully banded since the death and ressurection of His Lord's son, Jesus. It only took one of Them until all who were in the area to run in terror and now His Lord wanted not one, not two, but all four of Them to come to Heaven in one place. Wherever they went, whenever they were mentioned, fear soon followed.
All four of The Horsemen.
The Legendary Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
'No, not all four. Not all four.' Gabriel was caught in a trance. He kept repeating that same phrase over and over again in his head like a mantra. All of the color from his face drained and he looked as if he was about to faint. Conquest. War. Famine. Death. All Four Horsemen would be present and together after 2 millennia of separation. The things all four could do together were only outnumbered by The Lord himself. 'Not all four. It can't be. Not all four.' It was only the orbs interference that he was able to regain his senses.
"Gabriel." Gabriel's head swung back up and stared at the entity in front of him. "Now." He had sad it on such a calm, understanding voice, as if he didn't sense the Archangel's anxiety.
Gabriel, despite his fear, nodded as a little sweat could be seen on his forehead. He didn't want to disrespect his Lord. "Yes, My Lord." Seeing his time to depart, Gabriel did a swift turn and walked out to the other end of the hall. As he thought of where and how to contact The Horsemen, one thought managed to stray in his mind.
'Mercy be on those foolish enough to bring the wrath of all Four Horsemen.'
"Waitress, can I get a bottle of your finest wine please."
A man was sitting on a stool in a local bar. The bar was a bit run down. All it had was a door for an entrance that was a bit rusty. On the left of the entrance stood two pool tables side by side. On the right of that was an old, dusty jukebox. On the right stood a few round tables for customers to sit at. The tables were the only things 100% clean. Straight ahead of the entrance on the opposite wall was the bar stands. It was a traditional wooden stand with metallic stools that one could sit on. There was barely anybody in the place, save for a few guys, a couple who were obviously on a date, and one other male adult. It was the night shift with the time being 12:31 a.m. so there obviously weren't that many people or servers in the run down part of town. The man was dressed in a plain white tuxedo with cufflinks. He had on a white fedora and had a gold cane at his side on the stool. He also seemed to be fiddling with a golden coin in his left hand, shifting the coin from one gap of his fingers to another.
What the man seemed to not figure out was that this was not a fancy restaurant. It was a bar. Just a plain, old, and worn out bar. "Dude, this is a bar, not some five-star hotel." The lady said. She had a bit of annoyance lacing her voice, but that didn't seem to affect the man.
He put a hand to his forehead and shook his head, having a smirk on his face as he mocked embarrassment. "My apologies Miss," he spoke, "Then can I have just a few of those graham crackers over there." He pointed behind the waitress to the glass jar containing some honey flavored cracker sweets. "I forgot I had my favorite bottle with me." The man reached into his tux and pulled out a wine bottle with a picture of an eagle.
The woman turned around and grabbed a few of the snacks before tossing them in front of him on the counter. She went to go back to her business before the man called out for her. "Miss!"
She turned to look at the stranger who had seemingly gotten two small glasses out of nowhere and proceeded to pour his drinks. He looked at the woman with his piercing green eyes and she instantly felt a lot calmer. "I hope you don't intend for little ol' me to finish all of this by myself." He gestured to the bottle in his hands. "Besides, I can tell something is troubling you. Why don't you sit here with me and we can just…talk."
She didn't know why she suddenly felt comfortable with this man or why she felt like she could trust him. There was something about this man that made her feel all warm inside. Like she could feel safe with him. She smiled a real smile and went to sit down behind her bar, as she was still technically on her shift, to have a drink with the guy. She talked about how she came to the city to find a good steady job, but ended up working in this dump when she got turned down in all her interviews. Her dream was to be a professional chef and hopefully open up a restaurant, but too many obstacles and road bumps prevented that. Her apartment was a bust and this job didn't pay that well, especially on the night shifts. All the while, the man just listened intently. For her, it was weird that a man could just sit there and actually listen to her problems. Normally the men would try to do cheesy one-liners and cheap pick up tricks to make a few moves on her. And that was when they were sober.
"Hey, buddy." A voice called out behind the pair and it was all too eerie. It had way too much creepiness to it.
Behind the man in white sitting down, there were the three guys that had entered the bar not long after the man had showed up. They were all dressed in slightly torn clothes and looked like they were fresh out of jail. They all had a mischievous gleam in their eye as they took in the woman and the man. Strangely, they were eyeing the man more. All in all, they looked like a couple of punks.
They walked up to the man in white and surrounded him, two being at his left and right and the supposed ring leader behind him. "Hey suit, you got some pretty good gear there on you." The leader said, referring to his clothes. "Must have a lot of good money to get something so shiny. What say you hand over some and we'll let you go nicely."
The woman backed up a bit, knowing who these guys were. They had been harassing some of the neighborhood people and even herself. None of the police ever cared enough to come to this side of town to make a difference so they just did what they pleased. However, the man just simply lowered his head a little, just enough for the fedora to block out the light occupying his eyes, and continued pouring his wine bottle in a small glass cup, not really caring.
SMASH
The woman jumped a little as the leader took the man's cup he was pouring wine into and smashed it on the counter. The man had a look of frustration as it was clear he didn't like being ignored. The glass had scattered into many pieces all over the bar and some wine was dripping down over the counter. By now, all the occupants in the room became aware of the situation. The man was frozen like a statue though. He had his hand in a circle from where the cup once was and the other hand holding the wine bottle in the air, just a few inches above it. It was in a tilt and was plain as day that he was in mid-pour.
"I was talking to you, buddy." The ring leader shoved the man a bit, but he wasn't even paying attention.
The man was looking out of the corner of his eyes. No one could tell what he was looking at as everyone else was too busy looking at him of the gang leader. The fedora he had on blocked anyone from seeing them as he had his head down a bit. He had stopped as soon as he had sensed a familiar energy right next to him. He didn't mind the boy and his posse. They would be dealt with soon enough.
No. The man in white was looking at the spilled wine the leader had caused. Nobody could see, but the liquid was forming and moving all on its own. It was so small and everyone else's attention was elsewhere that nobody noticed it. The wine started shifting until you could make out letters. Those letters made out only a few words, but it made the man's eyes widen. The spilt wine finally stopped moving and formed a small, unseen message only the man could see.
IT'S TIME.
~G.
After he regained his calm state, all the man could do…
…was smirk.
It started off slow, but like a sandstorm it built up until the smirk was a full blown ear-to-ear smile that showed off his teeth.
He slowly got up and put his wine back into his coat and looked at the woman. He tipped his fedora, smiled, and said, "Good day miss." He then turned around only to meet a fist to his left cheek by one of the punks…
…or he would've if he hadn't had dodged it. Quicker than anyone could see, the man leaned back, avoiding the punch, grabbed his wrist, and stuck his foot out. He reeled the man into the jerk on his other side, causing both to crash into each other and fall to the ground with a thud. The leader took his chance and in a blind rage, dashed to land a hit on the man. Just like before, the man used incredible speed and moved out of the way, tripping the leader the same way he did just a few seconds ago. The leader lost his footing and landed on his chin at the edge of the counter, causing serious pain for the jaw.
The leader stood up wobbly and put a hand to caress his bruised jaw. He looked for the man in white only to find him already at the exit/entrance. The leader of the gang looked at his rag-tag group who were getting back up to their feet. "What the hell are you doing!? Get this asshole!" His friends seemed to pick up on his attitude and they all made a B-line for the man who was still walking calmly to the door. They charged with all they had, fists raised ready to strike. When they had gotten close enough, the man stopped. He still had his back to them, but also had an unseen grin plastered on his face. They were a foot away, give or take an inch or two, ready to beat the living shit out of him.
That's when they stopped in their tracks.
Not willingly. No. They were ready to show this guy a thing or two. It was like the three of them had hit an invisible wall except this wall wrapped all around the thugs' body, making movement impossible. All three of them were frozen like a statue, unable to move a muscle. They were shocked. Try as they might, it was like having a thousand men hold you down.
"What… the… hell…" The ring leader grunted out. It was unlike anything he ever felt. Here he was moments away from pounding the guy when all of a sudden it felt as if something was restraining him. He didn't have much time to dwell on it as he and his friends were flung in opposite directions with such force and magnitude. They all shouted as they felt something smash into their bodies. One of the followers crashed into the jukebox, the sickening sound of bone and flesh meeting metal. The other was flung back into two sets of tables, breaking the wood that made the furniture. The leader had the worst of it. He was practically jettisoned backwards and flung into the back of the bar where the bottles were. His back made contact with numerous glass drinks that shattered upon impact. Glass shards of variant sizes imbedded themselves into his back, cutting into his flesh through his clothes. He bounced back from the impact and fell to the ground with a thud.
All gang members were taken out in less than 15 seconds.
The waitress, who had taken cover near the couple, was shocked at the damage taken and from the unexplainable thing that had flung them. She didn't see the man in white move at all so it couldn't have been him.
Oh shit. The man.
She looked towards the entrance, but was disappointed to see the man gone. She got up from her hiding spot and marched towards the doors that would lead out of the building. She stopped when she saw a small piece of paper float harmlessly down from above her sight. She reached out to grab it and was surprised when the paper seemed to sail towards her hand. She caught it and observed the thin object. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a check for 50,000 dollars. Written at the bottom was a simple message.
Sorry about the damages. Try and use this money to achieve your dream and call me sometime.
Sincerely, Connor Quest.
Next to the name was a phone number, apparently the man's, now known as Connor. The lady smiled as she thought about her career and her eventual next meeting with Connor.
Outside miles away, Connor was already making his way to the rendezvous point on his motorbike, White Ducati Desmosedici RR. He was already on the highway of a dark, barren road with the wind passing behind him. It's a good thing he had left and reverted back to his original personality. Being a flirtatious man was only part of a cover up and it was annoying to pretend to feel emotions. He looked down at his loyal mode of transportation. His vehicle was getting restless. Not only that, but apparently the Big Man himself had finally called it quits on this world. Now, as he raced to the spot, he could only guess what would happen.
'What has it been? Two, three millennia.' He thought. If he was right, this would be the few times that he and his brothers had all met at one spot. It just so happens that they would be there for the mother of all events. Connor was just mentally groaning at the work he would have to do to keep his brothers in line and in check.
'Oh well, someone has to watch over those fools.' He thought emotionlessly. He was really aggravated that he was related to them, but for all his immense power, it just couldn't be changed.
With a twist of the wrist, he sped up the vehicle and seemingly vanished in an aura of pure white light. The only evidence that he had been there was the white streaks on the road from his motorbike.
Well that's the first chapter and you got to see the first Horsemen. Favorite, follow and most of all, PLEASE Review. It really helps knowing somebody likes my work.
PEACE
