Heaven or Hell

[Force_Edge]

Chapter I



‘Why do you always appear at night?’

Dressed in leather brown trousers, a white t-shirt and his trademark crimson trench coat, his parted platinum-white hair still as the wind; facing a pair of jumping Nobodies was none other than Dante himself, seemingly an eighteen-year-old with an affinity for living rather than sleeping during nighttime. Holstered at his hips were another trademark of the youngster; Ebony & Ivory, two custom-made handguns designed by Nell Goldstein, the owner of a gun shop, for purpose of handling Dante’s very aggressive shooting that would otherwise ruin a normal gun.

Dante’s alias, Tony Redgrave, was the name people knew him by. In fact he used it so much that a part of him sometimes forgot who Dante was. Whenever he was at the bar or the local strip club in 13th Avenue, he was as if unaware that he was only part-human. However, during some nights, when things were unusually quiet, the appearance of demons brought out Dante’s true self; the man with demonic blood in his veins who didn’t fear jumping, bizarre demons like the Nobodies. In fact, he was amused by their absurd monkey-like noises.

‘Not sure if I should just laugh or weep,’ he said mockingly, brought out Ebony and started spinning the gun with his finger. ‘That’s nice, drop your eye. I hope you can’t see yourself, it’s a miracle your looks aren’t killing me. Must be my charms. You might pop if you take a look.’

One of the Nobodies manically lunged at him; Dante quickly dodged with a side roll and leapt up to kick it, sending it crashing towards a brick wall. It landed on a paper bin, causing the litter to spill out.

‘Ooh, naughty,’ he teased himself when he saw a used rubber amidst the garbage. ‘Now, where were we?’

Aiming almost carelessly, Dante fired a few bullets, each one piercing the demon’s eye. It exploded, sending slippery parts of the white and yellow-green, smelly slime here and about, and sent it straight back to the brick wall again. He heard the moping of the second Nobody only a second before it launched itself against Dante, who fell on purpose and kicked over the demon. He got up calmly and put the handgun back.

‘Let’s wrap it up. I don’t hang around with nobodies.’

Coolly, Dante removed his trench coat and dropped it on the floor, dashed towards the demons and launched a few well-placed punches, and finished one off by kneeing its eye, slamming it up the wall and squashed the eye with his hand. The explosion stained him considerably, but the knock-back force sent Dante back landing heavily on the ground as if slapped with incredible strength.

Dante got up and watched how the creature spurted its blood and slime as parts of its body burst in small explosions. Finally, it blew up in a shower of demonic intestines that had Dante run and roll away from it. He hated that part of these demons the worst; not only did they look appalling, they also died in a way that made him sick. It also bothered him because it was dangerous to be nearby a dying Nobody.

‘Geez, guess those things don’t like funerals.’ He smiled and looked at the wall; nothing left but... remains. What was curious was that the second Nobody was nowhere to be seen. ‘Hide and seek. Right, cut me some slack, what’s wrong with good, decent fighting? Oh yeah, you’re nobodies. You don’t fight. You just explode and wash your insides all over people, don’t you!’

Snorting, Dante picked up his trench coat and put it on after taking off his t-shirt, revealing a silver chain worn around his neck. Attached to it was a very beautiful red gem of sorts; the amulet that was the only memento of his dead mother that he had. He walked down the street, passing the rundown block on his way to his new place. A smile slipped him when he reached the double doors to his apartment. It was a very special apartment, with the front room serving as the main hall, with a toilet and a bathroom in the back along with a kitchen, and two bedrooms upstairs. At the moment, the front room was empty save for the large desk at the back of the room, where a pizza carton, some papers, an old phone and a beer bottle were randomly placed.

‘Yeah, home,’ said Dante in a tired voice, and started to clean his desk, and returned five minutes later from trashing everything through the backdoor in the kitchen. He took off his trench coat, threw the t-shirt on the floor and walked upstairs, slightly hearing the creak; most of the house’s interior was wood; from the floor to the stairs and handrail to the doors and the desk. ‘Yeah, bedroom.’

A bed, a very small desk with a couple of drawers and that was it. Not too much. However, a picture of a beautiful woman with long, blonde hair was framed and put on the desk, and a finely decorated small chest made of very solid metal placed next to it with a sturdy lock. The keys, as it was, were inside Dante’s pockets. Leaning on the wall near the desk was a large sword, one that few men would have been able to wield, of which none would be able to wield it like Dante. The sword was a keepsake from his father who had once used this sword a long time ago. A very, very long time ago...

‘Yeah, bed,’ he said sleepily and drifted slowly into sleep. ‘Too big for me, it... ah, it needs I... uh I need company...’

 

[Steve]

Very nice work, Force_Edge! Well done.

 

[Phantom]

Dressed in leather brown trousers, a white t-shirt and his trademark crimson trench coat, his parted platinum-white hair still as the wind; facing a pair of jumping Nobodies was none other than Dante himself, seemingly an eighteen-year-old with an affinity for living rather than sleeping during nighttime. Holstered at his hips were another trademark of the youngster; Ebony & Ivory, two custom-made handguns designed by Nell Goldstein, the owner of a gun shop, for purpose of handling Dante’s very aggressive shooting that would otherwise ruin a normal gun.

Dante’s alias, Tony Redgrave, was the name people knew him by. In fact he used it so much that a part of him sometimes forgot who Dante was. Whenever he was at the bar or the local strip club in 13th Avenue, he was as if unaware that he was only part-human. However, during some nights, when things were unusually quiet, the appearance of demons brought out Dante’s true self; the man with demonic blood in his veins who didn’t fear jumping, bizarre demons like the Nobodies. In fact, he was amused by their absurd monkey-like noises.

‘Not sure if I should just laugh or weep,’ he said mockingly, brought out Ebony and started spinning the gun with his finger. ‘That’s nice, drop your eye. I hope you can’t see yourself, it’s a miracle your looks aren’t killing me. Must be my charms. You might pop if you take a look.’

One of the Nobodies manically lunged at him; Dante quickly dodged with a side roll and leapt up to kick it, sending it crashing towards a brick wall. It landed on a paper bin, causing the litter to spill out.

‘Ooh, naughty,’ he teased himself when he saw a used rubber amidst the garbage. ‘Now, where were we?’

Aiming almost carelessly, Dante fired a few bullets, each one piercing the demon’s eye. It exploded, sending slippery parts of the white and yellow-green, smelly slime here and about, and sent it straight back to the brick wall again. He heard the moping of the second Nobody only a second before it launched itself against Dante, who fell on purpose and kicked over the demon. He got up calmly and put the handgun back.

‘Let’s wrap it up. I don’t hang around with nobodies.’

Coolly, Dante removed his trench coat and dropped it on the floor, dashed towards the demons and launched a few well-placed punches, and finished one off by kneeing its eye, slamming it up the wall and squashed the eye with his hand. The explosion stained him considerably, but the knock-back force sent Dante back landing heavily on the ground as if slapped with incredible strength.

Dante got up and watched how the creature spurted its blood and slime as parts of its body burst in small explosions. Finally, it blew up in a shower of demonic intestines that had Dante run and roll away from it. He hated that part of these demons the worst; not only did they look appalling, they also died in a way that made him sick. It also bothered him because it was dangerous to be nearby a dying Nobody.

‘Geez, guess those things don’t like funerals.’ He smiled and looked at the wall; nothing left but... remains. What was curious was that the second Nobody was nowhere to be seen. ‘Hide and seek. Right, cut me some slack, what’s wrong with good, decent fighting? Oh yeah, you’re nobodies. You don’t fight. You just explode and wash your insides all over people, don’t you!’

Snorting, Dante picked up his trench coat and put it on after taking off his t-shirt, revealing a silver chain worn around his neck. Attached to it was a very beautiful red gem of sorts; the amulet that was the only memento of his dead mother that he had. He walked down the street, passing the rundown block on his way to his new place. A smile slipped him when he reached the double doors to his apartment. It was a very special apartment, with the front room serving as the main hall, with a toilet and a bathroom in the back along with a kitchen, and two bedrooms upstairs. At the moment, the front room was empty save for the large desk at the back of the room, where a pizza carton, some papers, an old phone and a beer bottle were randomly placed.

‘Yeah, home,’ said Dante in a tired voice, and started to clean his desk, and returned five minutes later from trashing everything through the backdoor in the kitchen. He took off his trench coat, threw the t-shirt on the floor and walked upstairs, slightly hearing the creak; most of the house’s interior was wood; from the floor to the stairs and handrail to the doors and the desk. ‘Yeah, bedroom.’

A bed, a very small desk with a couple of drawers and that was it. Not too much. However, a picture of a beautiful woman with long, blonde hair was framed and put on the desk, and a finely decorated small chest made of very solid metal placed next to it with a sturdy lock. The keys, as it was, were inside Dante’s pockets. Leaning on the wall near the desk was a large sword, one that few men would have been able to wield, of which none would be able to wield it like Dante. The sword was a keepsake from his father who had once used this sword a long time ago. A very, very long time ago...

‘Yeah, bed,’ he said sleepily and drifted slowly into sleep. ‘Too big for me, it... ah, it needs I... uh I need company...’

 

[Force_Edge]

Right, sorry about the late update but I caught the flu and so I couldn't work properly on this chapter. Thankfully it's done now, and up! I hope you'll forgive me for my boring ending to the first chapter. I hope this one makes up for it.

And, Phantom, what's with the reply...? All you did was repost the chapter... for what purpose?



Chapter II



Dawn was approaching, but the sun was yet to climb over the horizon, hiding underneath the line that bordered what the eye could see, and all that it couldn’t. It was a nearing sunrise, an ominous dawn soon to begin, a fell wind blowing. The trees were serenely swaying, though the green leaves that fell to the ground said otherwise. Only few animals were up by then.

Only a few dared. For a presence in the forest lurked, and its aura was of discord and of malice. Following the presence was a chill breeze, not the type that was pleasant and soothing, but the type that would send shivers down your spine and alarm your senses. It was chilly to the mind, not the body. And so the animals kept to themselves, not daring to intrude, though they were unaware that the figure walking would not harm them. Not them.

It was a tall, proud figure, coated in a dark blue coat. Two eyes made no effort scanning the place; cold, empty, but beautiful of icy blue and hazy grey, blending like mist and blizzard and smoke. His white hair, with its spiky tips nearly reaching past shoulder-length, was calm despite the wind. He carried a long sword in a beautiful scabbard with two band strings tied on it. Beneath the coat he wore dark blue trousers and a black vest with skeleton reminiscent patterns above a dark blue collar shirt.

And the forest loathed the presence that prolonged its sleep, almost putting it to a slumbering death. The fell wind blew ever more. It stopped only when the coated man finally exited the forest, and stood before a large plain. Over the horizon, the first true rays of light broke through the surface, peeking over the horizon, and casting its light on the man, who did not even close his eyes, but kept them focused. And then he moved on ahead, knowing what was approaching.

The clouds parted. They were thick, dull grey, mixed with orange, most unlike a morning sky. And they parted as if revealing large holes in the skies. A few stars were still visible. And the far, distand sound of huge waves crashing against giant cliffs and reefs reached the man’s ears, from all directions. The island, much like the forest, loathed the man’s fell wind. It would bring chaos upon him.

‘Who are you, man of evil?’ a booming voice echoed throughout the plains. The man stopped, and looked calmly around, almost smiling. He knew, what he was facing. Her guardian. Nevertheless, he stood in the way. He did not answer the voice. ‘Demonic presense, away!’

‘Why do you insist?’ said the man. ‘Why do you expect answers from me?’

‘Death awaits you!’ the voice boomed. And then, all fell silent. Not even the sound of birds could be heard. Even the fell wind that had followed the man, although still lightly blowing, gave off no sound.

Then, the ground shook. The white-haired man slowly walked onwards, trying to come to face with whatever seemingly approached from the horizon. And then, he suddenly stopped. His ears caught the sound of rustling leaves. He turned around and saw something rise from the trees; a giant of sorts, but unlike anything else he could’ve imagined.

It was like a gigantic serpent, dark grey and blue to its scales, with large, yellow-green eyes, and the man thought of cobras when he saw it. It had three very large horns growing out of its head. Though he could not see all of the serpent’s body, he guessed it must’ve been round, thick, and larger than an airplane, and no less than two hundred yards long.

‘I’m surprised you loathe demons so much,’ said the man and sneered, ‘when you’re one yourself. You’re no follower of light... Jormungand...’

‘I am a servant of the Red Queen!’ the serpent roared. ‘And she is a descent of light. You, who are a child of darkness, have no place here! Leave now!’

‘You’re wasting my time, snake,’ the man said coldly. ‘Where is your queen?’

Jormungand, the large serpent, lunged itself towards the man, but then stopped only a couple of feet away from him. It hissed once, and continued: ‘Your doom is nigh, demon! You wear away my patience!’

And then, Jormungand rose, high, and great arms, long, slender but strong and muscular, with clawed hands, showed themselves as the serpent stood on powerful, thick legs. And vast, grey wings, spread, and flapped heavily, sending mighty gusts as the serpent rose in air, towards the skies. It disappeared among the clouds. Jormungand’s voice boomed once more.

‘I condemn you, fiend! Die!’

‘I know she is here... and on this dawn, your guardianship will fail!’

‘Before the gods, I challenge you!’ the serpent screamed.

‘A demon who abide false gods... pitiful. Demons like you deserve death!’

The man drew his sword - a curved sword, like a katana wielded by the samurais from the japan of old - and pointed it at the winged serpent.

‘Jormungand,’ said the demonic man coolly, ‘you should not have challenged the power of devils.’