InuYasha Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction ❯ Go To Hell ❯ Part In-Between ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

An: Thank you for the reviews!! They keep me going.. Well, I will write whether I get 'em or not... But it just makes things a whole lot faster, eh? I have another fic on AdultFanfiction.. That's why it took so long for this chapter.. Thanks for reviewing!

Part In-Between


"Why couldn't they just keep all this shit with them!? Fucking hell! Just because we can do 'effin magic doesn't 'effin mean we should carry all their crap! Damn, I'm tired!"

That was Duo Maxwell, one who may run, one who may hide, but never one who will tell a lie. He carried several small bags of stuff on his right arm with two huge briefcases barely managing to stay in his hand. Under his other arm was a large suitcase; around his neck clung a charade of priceless gems, jewels, and brooches that even Milliardo's mother would envy. The rest of them were similarly heavily attired, along with robes that seemed to be the general wear of the people of Hades. Duo looked bright-sunshine awake. He explained that dead people don't need a lot of rest, even if they were stoned for twenty hours straight. It was going insane that was worth worrying about.

Eyes were of a violent purple shade, and he had hastily swept his hair into a messy plait before being burdened with his packages. With a small lithe build, Milliardo could tell he had been a skillful basketball player when alive. There were rumors he was gay (a faggot, to be precise) and that was how Milliardo really got to know him until he showed up on the news.

He had died in pieces, body unbelievably sundered to mush, including his bones. A skull with Duo's hair and eyes attached was the only recognizable feature Milliardo found on the net.

"You wouldn't be so damn tired if you shut the hell up! Save your breath and energy into carrying your weight or else we'll all have to pay for anything you drop! And believe me, Maxwell, I would beat you afterwards!"

That was Chang Wufei, the Chinese exchange student; he had fifteen minutes of fame, what with his clothes, skin color, and manner altogether he was really popular. Among the girls.

The only reason Milliardo knew he even existed was because he had the flu one day, and on that day there was a fight between Wufei and the captain of the baseball team, a player who went through girls like he went through bats. He figured Wufei was interrupting his flow.

Outside the nurse's window it had started, the rest of the team jumping in one-by-one, unable to bring him down. From the way he saw it, Milliardo guessed the boy was efficient in at least Kung Fu and Karate. That was why one boy behind Wufei ended up on the ground, jaw broken and teeth missing. This also helped Wufei get expelled from school (but the baseball team came back in three days, go figure) and fueled the fire that started when he went missing.

But Duo and a couple of other girls were killed before they found Wufei's grotesque body in a boarding house downtown. His eyes were gouged out with the precision of a woodcarver, so the police dismissed the thought a high school basketball team had done anything to him.

"We're almost there," Trowa said in so plain a voice, Milliardo couldn't figure if it was helpful or offhanded.

The green-eyed fellow never made an attempt to brush that enormous bang out of his face, though Milliardo would swear it must be annoying as hell.

His robe was entirely too big for him, but his long legs kept a stride that kept him from stumbling. He easily carried three huge baggages of clothes and his neck was bruised from a heavy, heavy pendant.

Attractive though he was, every slim piece of skin revealed was quickly covered up with revered grace.

Trowa's body was sewn back together, the news said, after it told his whole freaking life story. He was a truly brilliant student in addition to being appropriately athletic, participating in both tennis and gymnastics, about to live college life on a full academic and athletic scholarship. He had an early, short-lived modeling career. One picture of him, dressed in a shoulder-bearing blouse and jeans, sold for 2,062 dollars on Ebay. Something along that timeline may have influenced his present shyness.

Well, Milliardo idly wondered how the news would take him, and, if he remembered correctly, Wufei has been here the longest, then Trowa, then Duo. They'll reference them in his news article, for sure.

The cabin finally came into sight, a dark Hell-sky ominously hovering above, and it was rather a large dilapidated log-house atop a hill. They could see the mansion and just how bad things were.

Overrun by four black, horned beasts with spike clubs, it seemed much darker, for they were over 20 feet tall and standing guard at the four corners of the mansion, instigating far inferior demons into going inside. Thousands upon thousands, aided by hundreds of witch-like creatures, pecked and attacked the roof of the mansion, succeeding in making hundred of holes where they could swarm in. Milliardo wondered how much worse it would be if all the monsters weren't trying to kill each other.

"Hey, that ain't no circus show. What we gotta do with the house?" Duo asked, taking out a heavy book Treize had slipped into Milliardo's pocket. "What page?"

Milliardo thought for a moment before saying, "I forgot." It was hectic- running through a forest where the trees move and moan by themselves and keeping a kajillion pieces of luggage doesn't help the mind remember a 3-digit number.

"892." Trowa came around and took a piece of black chalk from Milliardo's other pocket while watching Duo turn pages.

"There are two spells on here, Reversi and Invisibility."

"Treize said to do both. What are those circles?" Milliard thought they looked like the Celtic designs he had to draw for English class after they had read an Arthurian novel. Of course, the designs didn't have virgin babies and sacrifices divided up and bleeding in the middle of them, but that was past the point.

Trowa got on the ground after glancing at the shapes and made a large circle in front of the cabin's entrance. "It's a seal. Like another password to make a spell work. Similar to biting when bonding."

Milliardo looked at the spell, saying it out loud:
" Satan grant me this small request.
Reverse this settlement as it were on its first quest...... That doesn't make much sense to me."

"I don't think it matters," Trowa replied, staring at the cabin, one eyebrow slightly up in surprise.

The place shone as good as new with the stately demeanor that prides itself in being made completely of trees and the best tar. A few missing logs were replaced and the empty squares glowed with fresh windows.

When he met the eyes struck with awe of the other three, he realized that he had done something cool.

Duo poked him softly on the shoulder, so Milliardo looked down- he was really short- and down into violet irises.

"What kind of bond did you and Treize make? Was it like a tie of power like Quatre and Heero?"

"No, it was...He's my master."

Duo then let out a sigh of relief and a 'Thank God'; he told him to say the other spell.

"May the Great King of Evil make unknown my boundary.
Satan grant me this request of exclusive invisibility."

After awhile, nothing happened, just a black line had appeared around the cabin a few yards from each surface, and the others were looking at him expectantly. He shrugged.

Wufei rolled his eyes, switching one of his big bags to the other hand. "You're the only one who can see it, since you made the spell. Did you read the explanations or did you just spit out the spell?"

He had just spit out the spell, but it was a rhetorical question, as the boy started to shove him in what he thought was the general direction of the cabin. After being pushed inside the lines, Wufei stopped his aggression. He stared. Milliardo stared back.

"Say 'Chang Wufei, granted'."

"Chang Wufei, granted. Do I have to say it for them too?"

"Yes," the other sighed exasperatedly.

"Duo...."

"Maxwell. Barton."

"Duo Maxwell, granted. Trowa Barton, granted." Both boys blinked, readjusted their luggage, and came past the barrier.

When they came in the cabin, they settled their bags down, looked around, picked them up again while dropping a few, and they promptly ran out the cabin.

"There are zombies in there?! How in the hell did they get in?" Duo cried, popping out his phone and cried out again: "It's broken!"

Trowa and Wufei followed suit, both ending up staring at black, humorless screens.

"Okay, we got two choices: stay here and get eaten," -Duo unraveled part of his hair and wove it again, over and over-"or take that long, dangerous way back to the mansion-"

"We have one other choice...We could fight...with spells," Trowa said slowly, not used to saying so much apparently, and visibly flinched at the idea of fighting the undead with bare hands.

"Wouldn't we get in trouble, again?" Duo asked worriedly, nearly unwrapping all of his hair as several blessedly slow zombies made their way through broken windows and coming around from the back of the cabin.

Wufei snatched the spellbook from Duo. "Fucking beats getting eaten, doesn't it?" he snapped, flipping to the middle of the large book. He then took out a decorated razor-sharp knife and stabbed his hands with it, grunting a small bit. A few more seconds passed before he dropped the spells and held both hands out.

"Satan grant me this wish.
Fire Demon Lord of Death
Burn, Incinerate that I hate."

His hands bled profusely before snapping with large flames which shot forth to the slow monsters, grazing some and blowing to ashes the nearest.

Milliardo began the spell as well, seeing if it would work out as well as the others:
"Satan grant me this wish.
Fire Demon Lord of Death
Burn, Incinerate that I hate."

It didn't work well.

It worked out great. Lord be praised if the whole riot of zombies had not burst into flaky ashes, and they waited a moment to see if anymore, from the back or anywhere, would come about. Nothing happened. They were all gone, so they set themselves inside the now empty, dusty cabin. Three

"I'll go cook something for your wounds...and something to eat," Trowa murmured, making off in what Milliardo guessed was the direction of the kitchen. On the way he shook off his burdens.

Duo hefted the biggest bags of his and Trowa's. "I'mma start putting up the stuff."

The cabin's nearly deserted lobby only held himself, Wufei, a tired couch and the most frightening picture of Jesus on the cross that Milliardo could ever pray never to see. He honestly had no clue on what he could do. Now, after the adrenaline rush of so many things happening at once, he had time to think how serious his situation was and then how uncontrollable the situation was anyway. That ended it, no tears or anguish, just the dull ache of the family he has allegedly lost forever- and his ex-girlfriend who had been trying to get back with him- Alex and Mueller who have yet to fulfill their promise of beating the crap out of his gay ass- and that thirty-page-long essay he owed Miss Lady Une.

Well, he didn't exactly miss the latter, but he had wanted to impress the woman, so she'll never call him a delinquent ever again. He had done it all, so he guessed his life was partially fulfilled on that note, and he smiled.

"I can't believe you're taking all this so easily," Wufei whispered just before Trowa came back saying the potion was ready and that the mansion was on fire.

Three of the guards were dead; the thousands upon thousands of carrion birds and witches now looked like few dozens; and the hordes of small demons were practically nonexistent and retreating to some degree because the mansion was on fire. And it was only until early the next...It was a long time until the three demons returned.

When they did, Milliardo's arms and legs were bound and a woman of appreciative proportions stood over hims with a bleeding crop whip in one hand and a stained blade in the other.