Chapter Two: Reminisce
Time and time again, we move from one "Reality" to another. One over run by evil creatures, so called "demons" or as the locals of that world called them Corelings; to ones that had actual demons, biblical or those found in most folklores; to Akuma, living weapons that an insane Earl created from the "revived" souls of loved one that grief stricken fools called back. But not all of the worlds were like those, some had neither magic nor a supernatural influence at all, some, depending on where they landed had certain forces that dealt with the supernatural and then there was that particular world that had normal (and that is using "normal" in the loosest sense possible) people hunting all manner of supernatural creatures including angels.
But this time? This time I... we ended up in the one place I never wanted to step foot in EVER again. Sure, it wasn't my home but it was still England, eighteenth century or not.
XxX
Dull green eyes, long, tangled black hair that near brushed the dirty cobbles that covered the streets; Harry never looked more like a homeless beggar then he did in that pathetic moment, leaning against a dirty wall in an attempt to stay dry.
And so our tragic hero wallows in his self loathing, cursing his fate even as his head lolls to the left; jaded eyes staring listlessly at the sheer desperation of London's citizens rushing to get out of the bitter grasp of a violent summer storm. Lightning flashed overhead, the thunder, a loud roar of an enraged beast, terrified the poor little children that were sharing the alley that Harry was lurking in, huddling together in the makeshift shelter that Harry had managed to put together. Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time, the seemingly young Master of Death ran his fingers through his hair, only for his fingers to become ensnared within the matted mess of black and filth.
Sorry chickens, I was hoping to reach 1000 words on this thing but I just can't so I'm sorry, but I think the way this is going you will be getting little snap shots: Past/Present and a sort of monologue/prologue kinda thing at the beginning of each chapter from either Harry or Death. Again, sorry I couldn't write more, it's just one of those things where your muse decides to be a bitch.