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[Minosheep]

This is a story I'm writing. I'll edit it as it progresses.

Red. Very dark red. Blood-red. Murderously blood-red, with a gaze to kill a puma in mid-leap.
Red. Bright red. Wisps of it writhe and flutter gently with the wind's shove.
White. The color of the clouds as they flow through the air.
Black. Deep, dark black. Black to envelope all that is good, all that is holy. All that is right.
An interesting combination of colors. An interesting combination of characteristics, that's what they'd always told the shepherd. The shepherd, who had nothing to do but watch the sheep. And think. Think about death... no, stop thinking about death. Think happy. Your parents aren't dead. They're alive, they're inside the house. Go, look, they're there. See? There's Mother on her morning laundry. Look, she's happy to see you. She's waving. Well, wave back. Wouldn't want her to think you're stupid, now, would we?
Good. There's Father. He's happy too. Look, he has a new crook for you. Watch, he's handing it over, reach out and take it, you fool, before--

A bone-chilling yell of agony pierced the night air. The sheep, grazing nearby, raised their dark heads and looked. Lucifer was trembling. The sheep, ununderstanding of this human emotion went back to grazing. Graze, Lucifer thought sullenly, worry about your grass. Forget the shepherd who keeps the wolf off of you. Forget him. Leave him to rot in his own pit of insanity and despair. Let him lay down and die. What do you care anyway, you stupid animals? Leave him be. He wants no part of you. He wants nothing to do with you!
I hate this. I hate everything. Why doesn't it all go away?
Because, you fool, you did it. You took that crook from your father and you--
"Shut up!" Lucifer yelled, provoking another glance from the sheep. "What the Hell are you all looking at?! Graze, idiots!"
He regretted saying it at once, because he knew he didn't mean it. Unfair of him to yell at the sheep for something he did. Because he did it. That damnable voice wasn't lying to him. He did it and he enjoyed doing it. Enjoyed the feel of the crook in his hands, loved it as the body of his father resisted a swing, loved it when blood spattered the ground, loved it. Loved it all. And now he hated it all. But, idiot, it won't leave unless you face it. Won't leave until you fight it until it's gone.
"Go away! I'm no fighter! And quit staring, you stupid animals!"
Don't take it out on the sheep. Don't take your own insecurities out on the poor stupid things. Let them graze, let them eat their grass. They have no reckoning of what you're capable of. The last barrier in your mind has left you, boy. You can destroy the world if you want. In fact, do it! Do it now! Let them all feel your rage!
Lucifer yelled out a babbled sentence, one without any particular meaning, just a bunch of syllables smashed together. A babbling sound, that rang into the night as Lucifer lifted his crook and advanced upon one of his sheep, his rage unbearable now, the crook coming downward in a wide arc and meeting resistance against the sheep's ribs. And the resounding crack of bone splitting itself-- no, idiot you split it. *you* did this-- the resounding crack left itself in Lucifer's ears, left its disgusting imprint. And Lucifer loved it for a moment. And then he hated it.
And then he noticed that his sheep were gone. He'd startled the poor things... and he loved that he had instilled fear in their tiny brains. Loved it. And then he hated it. He didn't want to-- maybe just a little-- but that stupid, nagging voice made him do it, he knew it. And he knew who that voice was. It was his father, it had to be, nobody else talked that way.
"Damn it."
His own voice. It sounded just like his father's. And he loved it for a moment, because his father was rather a dangerous person. And then he hated it, regretted it, wanted it to stop. Wanted everything to stop. Wanted everyone to quit moving, wanted the wind to quit blowing, wanted his bright red hair to stop falling into his eyes at the most inopportune moments, wanted his damnably white shepherd's garb to stop being white and turn red, red with blood. But he didn't mean that.
He didn't want to hurt anyone. They were after him. That was it. He'd never killed anyone. Of course not. That's crazy.
The night was warm, but he was shivering. Why?
And then he noticed the sheep lying on the ground. A wolf must have gotten it while he was daydreaming. Oh well. One sheep gone means nothing. It'd be fine in the morning. He'd sleep it off, he was always able to sleep things off.
"Hm," he thought aloud. "I wonder what Mother's made for dinner."

[Sperrit]

I will say but one word, and then I shall comment:

SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

*Ehem*
Good story, man! I like it! Very rythmic, poetic. Keep 'em coming!

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[Minosheep]

Next chap.


Lucifer approached the house where he grew up. His hand touched the knob, and then the muscles in his upper arm flexed lightly. But the knob didn't turn.
Why? Why can't I enter? There's nothing there. No, my parents are there. Mom's probably serving dinner. Of course she's serving dinner. What else might she be doing? And father is there, sitting down to eat. So just open the door.
No. I won't. I can't face it.
Face what?
I killed them!
You didn't. You're losing it, Luci. Just open it.
I don't want to face them...
Why not?! What have you done to earn their disfavor?!
I kill--
You didn't! You crazy, stupid boy! Open it!
Of course. Of course. They're alive, I'm fine. Noone's dead. Everyone is happy, everyone is alive.
Lucifer's hand finally began to turn with the knob. It opened, and he took a tentative step in, then had to step out again. The smell... like rotting flesh. Like the sheep after the wolf eats it.
It's just dinner, you poor, stupid boy.
Of course. I'm losing it, really, I am.
Lucifer walked in. And then he had to avert his eyes.
In the center of the living room, hanging from the chandelier. His father. Hanged by his own intestines. The ground beneath the decaying body was still moist with blood. But not completely. Some of the blood had been absorbed into the wood, it was even now swelling...
And Lucifer again had to tear his eyes away from the sight. Only to rest eyes upon the corpse of his mother. Split down the middle. Face beaten in. Fists still clenched in defense. And Lucifer remembered the scar across his left cheek. His hand moved up to it, rubbed against it, and then fell at his side. His eyes narrowed, and he refused to believe it.
"I'm no murderer..."
But you are. Can't you see what you've wrought here?
"You told me I didn't kill them!"
I lied.
Lucifer scowled angrily. He would never believe the voice again. Never. It wanted him dead. Fine, he thought. I can play at this game.
What game, you foolish boy?
"This one you keep trying to play with me!"
It's no game, you poor, insolent child. No game.
"I'm not a child!"
Don't act like one.
Lucifer suddenly couldn't breathe. The smell of his parents was unbearable, and his lungs felt as though they were going to explode, collapse from the pressure of holding his breath.
"What pressure?" he thought aloud.
Lucifer narrowed his eyes again, and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Just a cloud of dust, and even now his face was melting, his limbs were crumbling apart at their seams, his tongue was becoming a great big serpent that came from his mouth and then turned to bite at his face, his hands were turning into pincers that he couldn't control, his legs fell out from under him, and he toppled backwards, though the door, into the night air--
And was whole.
"Stop! Stop playing these games with me!"
Game? You think this is a game?
"What is it you want me to do?! When will you leave me alone?!"
When you prove to me you're indeed the strongest.
"But... how?"
There's a tournament. The Pocket Otaku. Win it, lest you be more worthless.
"I told you! I'm no fighter!"
Then become one.
The voice abruptly stopped talking, and Lucifer vaguely recalled its words. 'Become one,' it had said. Fine. He could do that.

[Therin]

Whoa, dude. Definitely freaky. Is this your upcoming otaku?

[Sperrit]

I sense much Otaku in him....
And yes, very freaky.

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[Minosheep]

Why spank you. Spank you very much.

[Minosheep]

The hinges creaked noisily as the old chest opened. Lucifer grinned as he noticed the contents were there, and intact. He gripped at the red breastplate, and lifted it up before his eyes. It was shaped slightly like a capital "L" layed on its side. It came up more on the left side than on the right, to better protect the heart. He set it down beside him on the ground and then lifted the next item out. A black, sleeveless shirt, which he set atop the breastplate. He then took out a pair of black, fingerless gloves and a belt, and then loose red pants and brown leather boots. And then, sitting at the bottom of the chest he saw them. The two swords for which his father was famous in wielding.
Lucifer stood up and began to undo the belt on his shepherd's garb. It fell to the ground beside him as it came off. He took a moment to stretch his young, pale muscles. Stronger than average from his years of working the field, yet pale from always being clothed in that damned robe. He grabbed at the red pants lying on the ground and put them on. They were very loose, and hung down to where his feet were hidden beneath the folds. He grabbed at the boots and then put them on. It shortened the length of the pants somewhat, but not by much. Still, he wouldn't be tripping over them now. The belt went on above, and then the black sleeveless shirt. It was tight, but not terribly so. He looked down and noticed how it conformed to the developing muscles in his abdomen and chest.
Next came the red breastplate. It was strapped on easily. And then the gloves. Comfortable, yet firm. Next came the swords.
He lifted them from the chest reverently. Black sheathes with gold trimming. And then he noticed with glee that the gold was real. If he was ever low on cash he could sell these and settle for normal leather ones. He'd have more than enough to buy some. He pulled on the reddish hilt of one of the swords. It was long, about three and a half feet so, curved very slightly as a scimitar would be. But not quite. It was well balanced, and he felt he could learn to use it easily. He removed the other sword from its scabbard and it was of the same make. He grinned and then put them away, and strapped them to his belt, and with a flourish loooked at himself in a tall mirror in the corner of the attic.
"Not bad, not bad."
He looked at his face in the mirror. Blood-red eyes. He blinked, and so did his reflection. His wisps of thinnish, bright-red hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it away slowly, looking for something with which to bind it. There was a cloth in the corner. It'd have to do for now. Soon he had a ponytail bound by a semi-clean rag. At least his hair wouldn't be in his eyes. He looked around, and decided to grab his shepherd's crook. It might come in handy sometime. He wrapped some more cloth around it as a makeshift strap, and then tied it onto his back.
He looked at himself in the mirror again. He didn't quite have that suave look he had before.
"Feh. Who cares."
I'm leaving, finally leaving. Lucifer punched at the mirror, shattering it, and then grinned. He'd need a new name, now.
He'd take his father's name, that's what he'd do. The revered Demonic, the warrior to beat all other warriors. He had earned his fame and lived up to the legend. Lucifer smirked. If he could kill the great and mighty Demonic, he was worthy of the title.
Lucifer-- no, Demonic-- Demonic walked down the stairs and out of the house. It was a cloudy night... and he still wasn't exactly a great warrior yet. He'd have to take a few sheep with him. Alive, of course. They'd serve as meat until he could find the nearest settlement. Meanwhile, he could learn to use his swords in the forest. There were all manner of strange creatures there, as well as bandits. They'd serve him well, as far as training went. So, with out further delay, he set out for the forest. The Black Forest, they called it. He'd have to find out for himself what was so black about it.

[slingshot40]

Very .


Thats just Prime!

[Akira]

so...sweet,and scary...::sniff::

[Sperrit]

He's more machine now than man, twisted and evil... just like this story. Okay, not evil. It's very good, in fact! But twisted... yes.

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