OoC: Daughtaluufff :3 Here's another one for just you and I <3

BiC:


In the deepest, darkest reaches of the world underneath the worlds there is no massive pit of fire, but instead, there were levels, structures. Each level meant a tier—the highest held the souls of the dead that came through the Gates, which were guarded by the three headed dog, Cerberus. This is the only level of Hell that Hades would allow normal souls to enter, but as for the abnormal ones, the ones that ‘meant’ more to him, or to Hell itself, they were permitted to enter the lower reaches. It gets deeper, darker, bloodier and more torturous to the body, mind and soul.

As you go lower, the less beings there are, but the more powerful they are. If you are allowed on the Ninth and last level, you were one of the highest beings in the Devil’s food chain, where the weak only exist to be food for the strong. The Ninth level houses the king along with all the generals, as well as those who are in between the generals and the king himself. His personal guards, the executors, the ones called the ‘Verdugo’.

However, in these levels had their own cliques of souls or damned. The Ninth, with its most powerful beings, was no different. There was one, who had delved deeper from the First level all the way through the Ninth, through torture, rape and suffering, blood and gore, eating the flesh off bones and even the bones themselves to survive in order to acquire this status and power. He was mad with it, and more was never enough; he wanted so much power so he would be powerful enough to stop himself from losing it. There were a number of things that could cause him to lose it; recklessness, being truthful, honest... And of course, the promise that there was always someone, or something ‘stronger’.

Being of the Ninth level, he had a special privilege. Being born of the earth, he was able to return to it with his full power; no other Verdugo had this privilege because they were all born in Hell. This man—this vampire—this demon was nothing like them, and had come from the earth before coming to Hell while still ‘alive’. He was kept here not by his own choice, but because he stalked power like a madman. Because of his nature and his status, a few generals followed him more than the Devil himself, they took orders from both, but when it came to this one, the orders were carried out with more passion.
The other Verdugo were only allowed out with just a fraction of their own power, because the Gates of Hell were not opened enough for them to pass through fully; there was only a tiny crack which allowed the souls of the foolish dead to slither in—it had been this way for all eternity, and only once it was opened, if only for a few seconds.

“He is in another world now.” A voice slithered in the darkness of the room, “are you sure you are still willing to pursue? Whatever your decision, I will follow you to death and beyond.”

A wine glass swirled around with blood inside, delicately at first, and then faster and faster, as if a whirlpool began to drain it away.

“We will get there the same way he got there. He and the little mongrel vampire that followed him through.”

A few drops of blood flew out of the glass and fell to the ground, already blending in with the soft trickles of the same liquid that flowed through the crevices between stones.

“He has powerful friends.” The slither seemed softer now, but it was not drowned out by the trickling and dripping crimson.

A smirk was seen in the darkness. A small one at first, before the corner of the being’s lips curled upward into a one-sided, menacing grin.

“...But he’s grown soft.” The grin spoke, “We won’t just charge in recklessly aiming for the heart. First... we cut off the limbs, and then we stab the heart.”

The slithering grew quieter now, for fear of angering the man who stood above him in the ranks.

“Jinchuu or... Tenchuu?”

The being leaned back into his chair as a loud, obscene slurping sound was made as he brought the glass to his lips. A long, arrow-tipped, blood red tongue slithered into the glass and licked around its walls, gracefully scooping up every drop of it.

“‘Man’s punishment’ or ‘Heaven’s punishment’?” The demon smirked again, amused at his underling’s usage of an earthly language. Although he did not understand most of it himself, he learnt little from his underling’s musings about the language. He stretched out his long arm to put the wine glass under crack in the brick ceiling. Immediately, the crack began to ooze blood, dripping it into the glass to refill it.

“This is neither. Heaven and man have too much mercy and no goal. This is the Punishment of the Damned.” There was a silence afterward, and the slithering had died out completely. “Good. Tomorrow... we’ll go there.”

* * * * *

This place looks so familiar... The dark clad man rose his arm to his nose to block out the stench, Ugh, it smells familiar, too. It’s clouding my senses and burning my eyes—I swear I can hear and see this scent, too. It’s... so strong. As the man moved closer and closer to what seemed like an old, rusted doorway into a large hospital, the smell got stronger, and the cries, the screaming of the dead from inside grew louder and louder.

“Push...! Push...!” He looked through the window, and all of a sudden he was inside the structure, inside the emergency room. A woman was on the table; with her face twisted in pain as she held her breath down, trying to push the baby out of her womb. Rain noted that the woman looked a lot like Raisha; her hair and facial structure was almost the same way, but her eyes were hazel and not gold.

At that very moment, two figures appeared beside the table as the woman struggled. Both seemed so familiar.

“If this one is a boy, I claim it.” It was almost impossible to tell who said it, neither of their lips moved; but one of the figures faltered a little, hesitated, before nodding.

“It’s a girl...!” The woman on the table seemed happy, now. And one of the figures seemed to be delighted that this bundle of joy was theirs to keep.

The one who wanted the boy scowled. “You will have a boy—you will keep trying, or I’ll rip your loving, beautiful wife...” A hand passed through the woman’s hair, but she didn’t seem to notice, “into...pieces small enough to swallow.”

As soon as that sentence was finished, the woman on the table seemed to gasp for breath. Her complexion faded, and the colour was drained completely. Her eyes began sinking into her head as her jaw elongated, cracks running all over her skin. Her eye sockets became blank and dark, and all of a sudden, she was up close.

“Raaaaainnnn....” the name oozed out of her elongated mouth, a deep wheezing followed as deep red began oozing out of her eyes and mouth.

“Mother?!”

Rain awoke with a start, right then. He didn’t sit up as soon as that, but his body jerked a little and he opened his eyes. He turned on his side a bit to look at the beautiful gypsy sleeping next to him. His hand slipped into her hair and ran along it, stroking it softly.

“A dream... about the past...?” he asked himself quietly, “It was muddled though...”

He looked at her sleeping form and leaned down to kiss her cheek, resting a hand on the bed near her shoulder for support. Cadenza’s hand had held on to his right then as she asked, half-sleepily, for him.

“Rain...?”

“I’m right here...” He leaned down more into her and pulled her closer, kissing into her hair.

Just a dream...