Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction ❯ Sympathy for the Devil ❯ Home Again, Home Again ( Chapter 7 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Faia Saiyajin 
Anime/Manga: Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Occult / Supernatural | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.19.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 248 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Occult / Supernatural | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.19.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 248 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter VII : Home Again, Home Again...
It was lucky for him that the rain had kept a good portion of the mortals
inside. What ignorant person would come out on a day like this? It was Sunday
evening, and any self-respecting human would be inside, spending time with the
one they love.
At any rate, Anubis was counting his blessings. He'd sustained some heavy damage
after his fall to the cement below. He hadn't splattered, or else he'd be in
real trouble.
Now forced to crawl to his haven, Anubis left more of himself behind, dragging
himself forward with his arms. It would take a few more moments of regeneration
until he would be able to walk.
It was eight blocks. Eight long blocks to his resting place. The very spot from
where he had risen, with new a new master and new orders. The cemetary in where
he had been laid to rest. But that hadn't lasted long.
Finally... finally he was able to stand. Now no longer forced to crawl like an
animal on his belly, the former Ogre pushed himself up, unstable for a few
seconds.
His body was a mess. There were large rotting gaps in his flesh, where the
muscle and skin had yet to close. But there was no blood as of yet.
Exhausted, the scarlet-haired warrior trudged forward, soaked by the rain. Why
had this happened to him? Why couldn't he just rest peacefully in the afterlife,
not tormented by the past?
It was because of *THEM*. Because of all of them. Every last pathetic one of
them. Why had he been chosen? He was no mystic, no provider of wisdom! He was a
warrior! Why had the Ancient done this to him?
He had been given his destiny, without knowing what it would get him. He
accepted the staff, and for the first time in his life, had felt that this what
he was supposed to do. Enlighten, guide, and serve the ultimate power. But in
his learnings, his constant meditation, he heard it. The hushed whispers of his
fate.
The whispers had become a scream when the staff refused to strike Kayura that
fateful day. It was an unholy litany, stabbing his mind like a thousand
white-hot dagges.
'You will die, you will die, you will die, you will die, you will DIE!'
That was when he knew. He knew that he was not the Ancient's Chosen One. He was
just some poor fool, sucked into yet another plot. Once again, he was a pawn. He
was there to hold the staff, until Kayura could be woken from Talpa's spell.
When that was over, so was his life.
When he had fallen into that murky river, he felt the life ebbing from him. The
water was cold and uncaring, as he inhaled breath after breath. Only it wasn't
air, it was water, filling his lungs, slowly drowning him, as he had not the
strength to save himself.
His body wasn't even cold yet, when a new voice began to whisper to him. This
time, it promised him his chance for revenge. Something happened, and he agreed
to this deal. It was true, he had been reborn as the Chosen One, made pure, born
again. But those last moments of his life, when THEY let him die, let him drown
in that brown muck, he had sealed his fate.
The hatred he felt for them, for Kayura, for the very gods themselves, who had
damned him to such an existence, it prevented him from eternal bliss. That was
when the very root of evil itself had told him of this opportunity.
Kill those who killed you. I give you this gift, fearsome warrior. Rise and take
your revenge.
This is what it had earned him. But enough of this. He stopped at the corner,
the cemetary a block away. The rains had returned, only this time it was a light
drizzle. It flowed into the gaps in his chest and shoulders, coursing through
him. It left from a large rotting gap in each calf. By the time it had finished
this journey, it was no longer clean. It was crimson, carrying away any traces
of doubt or remorse with it.
Staggering to the wrought iron fence that enclosed the peremiter of the
cemetary, he pulled himself over it, leaving a few tags of his flesh clinging to
the rough, peeling metal. Now he began the second leg of his journey. Trekking
through this slop, to his grave.
It seemed like another hour, as he kicked his way through the mud, to the
headstone that bore his name. It was in the far right hand corner, on the
eastern side of the cemetary. When he reached the disturbed resting place, the
earth overturned from his violent exit, he fell to his knees, preparing for a
rejuvenating sleep.
That was when, at the foot of his bed, a whirlwind started, picking up clods of
earth, leaves, sticks, and whatever matter it could get ahold of. Anubis froze.
It was his master.
The golem, now 7 feet in height, stood before him. One eye was red, the only
sign of life in the figure. Anubis scuttled forward, on his right knee. His left
arm was straight, pressed kuckle-first into the mud. The right arm was resting
on his bent right knee.
"My loyal servant." the voice came from nowhere.
"Master." He kept his head bowed.
"You have failed."
Anubis winced. Those words still gnawed at his brain, from days gone by. "It was
a mere setback, m'lord. I underestimated the Ronins."
"No. It is not your fault. It is mine entirely."
He looked up at the red eye of the golem, speechless. "My Leige?"
"Your strength and immortality are not enough against the urchins. I was a fool
to think that you could handle them alone."
"Yes, m'lord." the solace of the grave was calling him, and it was hard to
concentrate.
"I know that you are tired. Your battle with the Serpent has taken its toll on
your undead body. However, there is something I must tell you."
Anubis lifted his head, focusing his eyes. Beside the golem, a strange peice of
black glass hovered. "What is it you wish of me, Master?"
"This is your next victim, Anubis. I have looked deep into his heart, and found
that he was in love with the woman you took. Use this against him. His feelings
cloud his heart." In the glass, a shaky image of Cale appeared.
Anubis smiled. A blur of steel shot forward, a dagger spiking into Cale's
forehead. The glass and blade shattered into a rain of mud.
"I also wish to give you this. It will be yours once again." The red orb in his
eye floated free of the body, the glow increasing, the crimson tinge lighting
Anubis' face with its fire. "Rise up, and become the Ogre once more."
The eerie grin that formed on Anubis' lips spread into a manic smile. "Thank
you, my Master."
It was lucky for him that the rain had kept a good portion of the mortals
inside. What ignorant person would come out on a day like this? It was Sunday
evening, and any self-respecting human would be inside, spending time with the
one they love.
At any rate, Anubis was counting his blessings. He'd sustained some heavy damage
after his fall to the cement below. He hadn't splattered, or else he'd be in
real trouble.
Now forced to crawl to his haven, Anubis left more of himself behind, dragging
himself forward with his arms. It would take a few more moments of regeneration
until he would be able to walk.
It was eight blocks. Eight long blocks to his resting place. The very spot from
where he had risen, with new a new master and new orders. The cemetary in where
he had been laid to rest. But that hadn't lasted long.
Finally... finally he was able to stand. Now no longer forced to crawl like an
animal on his belly, the former Ogre pushed himself up, unstable for a few
seconds.
His body was a mess. There were large rotting gaps in his flesh, where the
muscle and skin had yet to close. But there was no blood as of yet.
Exhausted, the scarlet-haired warrior trudged forward, soaked by the rain. Why
had this happened to him? Why couldn't he just rest peacefully in the afterlife,
not tormented by the past?
It was because of *THEM*. Because of all of them. Every last pathetic one of
them. Why had he been chosen? He was no mystic, no provider of wisdom! He was a
warrior! Why had the Ancient done this to him?
He had been given his destiny, without knowing what it would get him. He
accepted the staff, and for the first time in his life, had felt that this what
he was supposed to do. Enlighten, guide, and serve the ultimate power. But in
his learnings, his constant meditation, he heard it. The hushed whispers of his
fate.
The whispers had become a scream when the staff refused to strike Kayura that
fateful day. It was an unholy litany, stabbing his mind like a thousand
white-hot dagges.
'You will die, you will die, you will die, you will die, you will DIE!'
That was when he knew. He knew that he was not the Ancient's Chosen One. He was
just some poor fool, sucked into yet another plot. Once again, he was a pawn. He
was there to hold the staff, until Kayura could be woken from Talpa's spell.
When that was over, so was his life.
When he had fallen into that murky river, he felt the life ebbing from him. The
water was cold and uncaring, as he inhaled breath after breath. Only it wasn't
air, it was water, filling his lungs, slowly drowning him, as he had not the
strength to save himself.
His body wasn't even cold yet, when a new voice began to whisper to him. This
time, it promised him his chance for revenge. Something happened, and he agreed
to this deal. It was true, he had been reborn as the Chosen One, made pure, born
again. But those last moments of his life, when THEY let him die, let him drown
in that brown muck, he had sealed his fate.
The hatred he felt for them, for Kayura, for the very gods themselves, who had
damned him to such an existence, it prevented him from eternal bliss. That was
when the very root of evil itself had told him of this opportunity.
Kill those who killed you. I give you this gift, fearsome warrior. Rise and take
your revenge.
This is what it had earned him. But enough of this. He stopped at the corner,
the cemetary a block away. The rains had returned, only this time it was a light
drizzle. It flowed into the gaps in his chest and shoulders, coursing through
him. It left from a large rotting gap in each calf. By the time it had finished
this journey, it was no longer clean. It was crimson, carrying away any traces
of doubt or remorse with it.
Staggering to the wrought iron fence that enclosed the peremiter of the
cemetary, he pulled himself over it, leaving a few tags of his flesh clinging to
the rough, peeling metal. Now he began the second leg of his journey. Trekking
through this slop, to his grave.
It seemed like another hour, as he kicked his way through the mud, to the
headstone that bore his name. It was in the far right hand corner, on the
eastern side of the cemetary. When he reached the disturbed resting place, the
earth overturned from his violent exit, he fell to his knees, preparing for a
rejuvenating sleep.
That was when, at the foot of his bed, a whirlwind started, picking up clods of
earth, leaves, sticks, and whatever matter it could get ahold of. Anubis froze.
It was his master.
The golem, now 7 feet in height, stood before him. One eye was red, the only
sign of life in the figure. Anubis scuttled forward, on his right knee. His left
arm was straight, pressed kuckle-first into the mud. The right arm was resting
on his bent right knee.
"My loyal servant." the voice came from nowhere.
"Master." He kept his head bowed.
"You have failed."
Anubis winced. Those words still gnawed at his brain, from days gone by. "It was
a mere setback, m'lord. I underestimated the Ronins."
"No. It is not your fault. It is mine entirely."
He looked up at the red eye of the golem, speechless. "My Leige?"
"Your strength and immortality are not enough against the urchins. I was a fool
to think that you could handle them alone."
"Yes, m'lord." the solace of the grave was calling him, and it was hard to
concentrate.
"I know that you are tired. Your battle with the Serpent has taken its toll on
your undead body. However, there is something I must tell you."
Anubis lifted his head, focusing his eyes. Beside the golem, a strange peice of
black glass hovered. "What is it you wish of me, Master?"
"This is your next victim, Anubis. I have looked deep into his heart, and found
that he was in love with the woman you took. Use this against him. His feelings
cloud his heart." In the glass, a shaky image of Cale appeared.
Anubis smiled. A blur of steel shot forward, a dagger spiking into Cale's
forehead. The glass and blade shattered into a rain of mud.
"I also wish to give you this. It will be yours once again." The red orb in his
eye floated free of the body, the glow increasing, the crimson tinge lighting
Anubis' face with its fire. "Rise up, and become the Ogre once more."
The eerie grin that formed on Anubis' lips spread into a manic smile. "Thank
you, my Master."