31A/N: Okay...looks like I'm out of my depression, for however long that may be. Hello everyone, and welcome to my new story! Shocking of me to be doing -Man when I have so many other stories, but this story has been on my mind lately since Hallow was announced. No, scratch that, since Neah got his first real introduction into the series. That's why I made this story, and also to help me get back into fanfiction. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my first ever -Man story! Please enjoy! Thanks go to CodeEmperor07 for helping me write this chapter! He is the author of several great stories, such as LNCE of Kresnik and Fractured Existence.
I must also thank my dear friend and foster brother, Otaku-Nation666 for encouraging me and getting this story on here! He has also written great stories, like Fabulae Parcae, Tokyo Mirage Sessions: Apocalypse, and Warning Letter! I DEFINITELY recommend the stories in bold!
Once again, welcome to Hallowed Ground!
God Made Two Great Lights - The Greater Light To Govern The Day And The Lesser Light To Govern The Night.
-Genesis 1:16
Hallowed Ground
The 19th Century is coming close to it's end, as is the Industrial Revolution, which has brought forth much advancement to human ingenuity.
However, do not think of these years of ingenuity and prosperity as times of peace.
From beneath the shadows, a war is waged between the forces of light, and the forces of dark.
A war between the Earl of Millennium, and his band of monsters-the Akuma...
And the Black Order, and their warriors, the Exorcists; soldiers chosen by God.
For 7000 years, this war has been waged, and has carried out into the present day.
Now, however...a new player takes to the stage.
One who sides with neither the light, nor the dark.
A young man clad with the white jester.
His appearance heralds the end...
The End of Time.
[Precious - Unchain]
I wonder how many things left behind in the distant summer day
It is faraway, thunder lingers on my ears
Your shadow edged with sunset still touches my heart, and won't let go
As if everything was in a blink of an eye
If you open your ears, you'll hear the sound
You won't get lost or cheat in the maze
If you open your eyes, you'll see the lights
There are many doors
The moment you took wings for the unleashed world, I found eternity
I'll still get to meet you in the changing season
Waygoing times overlaps like a dream, I found eternity
This moment goes on forever in your eyes
I wonder how many times I made you cry back in those days
It was the smell of rainy asphalt, I remember
Your tears flowing down still touching my heart, and won't let go
As if everything was in a blink of an eye
If I open my ears, can I hear your voice?
I will be honest to myself
If I open my eyes, can I see the light?
I won't look at the ground
The moment you took wings for the unleashed world, I found eternity
I'll still get to meet you in the changing season
Waygoing times overlaps like a dream, I found eternity
This moment goes on forever in your eyes
It's just my precious, precious
And it's too precious for words
Just for me, glowing, flowing, blowing...
When I opened the door to a whole new world, I found it in your eyes
Chapter 1: The Stranger and the Crowned Clown
The train soon arrived in London at dusk, with the sky tinted dark orange. Night was close at hand, and the people knew it well. Everywhere one looked, you could see people dressed in heavy clothing, in order to endure the cold. Even the passengers who disembarked from the train were not dressed lightly...all except for one. The last to disembark was a young teen, no older than fifteen or so. He was certainly an odd-looking boy, wearing only black pants and a loose buttoned shirt. His left hand was bound in bandages, as if he had suffered some sort of accident. His eyes were somewhere between gray and silver, and his hair an unnatural shade of white, cut short at the chin yet also quite wavy. The most curious feature about him was the red scar on the left eye, which bore a pentagram above the eye, and the scar running down his cheek. "What a long trip..." the boy mused as he stretched his arms over his head, stepping off unto the platform. "We're nearing the 20th Century, and yet you still can't make trains go any faster." One would think to have invented trains that could move faster than the pace of an oxen. Oh how behind were the innovations of humanity. Still, he supposed he should be glad they at least had trains operating this late into the day. It was the last train out into London, and he didn't want to be late. Still, he could scarcely believe how close to nighttime it was. It looked like the evening fog would settle in at any moment, and the moon ready to appear shortly thereafter. It wouldn't do well for him to be lounging about so late. "I wonder if there are any hotels I can spend the night in?" the boy pondered. He turned to the conductor, who was helping a few passengers retrieve their luggage from the rear cars. "Pardon, sir. Do you know if there is anywhere I can spend the night?"
The man handed a dufflebag to the mother before turning to him. "Well, if it's shelter yer interested in lad," he said, pointing to the East of the city. "There's an old abandoned church near the outskirts of the city. Although, I should warn ya, it's not exactly safe."
The boy raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Well..."
Moor Hase could only glare at the old abandoned church with distaste. 'Of all the places to investigate,' she thought bitterly. 'It had to be here.' Moor was a tall, slender woman with long brown hair and blue eyes. She wore round glasses. As she was on duty, she was currently dressed in a police uniform, consisting of dark blue trousers and matching cloak, a white shirt with suspenders and mid calf length black boots. She also wore a helmet-shaped hat, like all members of London's law enforcement wore. She and her partner Charles were tasked with investigating the recent disappearances of the flow of travelers who stayed the night here at the church, due to being strapped for funds.
However, they never lasted. No one heard anything about them the morning after, and due to the number of missing persons, it was natural that they would be tasked with investigating. However, for Moor, this was hardly her favorite places. The reason for this was due to some bad memories...memories she's rather not remember. Shaking her head, and wanting to get it over with, Moor walked toward the door, much to the dismay of her partner, Charles. "H-hold on, Moa!" he cried in fright. "Y-you're not seriously thinking of going in there, are you?!"
Moor turned around to face her colleague. "It's apart of our job, Charles." she told him plainly. "We've been receiving numerous complaints of missing persons."
"How many times do I have to tell you?!" he said, visibly trembling as he steadied himself on the picket fence. "This place is cursed!"
'Believe me, I know all too well...' she thought darkly. "Listen Charles," she deadpanned. "We're going in there, no matter what."
"B-b-bu-but...!" He stammered.
"No buts! We're going in! That's final!" She stated with finality. The man whimpered, while Moor remained steadfast. "All of this cursed talk is for the civilians, and not the police," she said, adjusting her helmet. "Now stop being a baby, and let's go!"
The man sighed, hanging his head low in defeat. "...okay..." With a satisfied nod, Moor opened the Cathedral doors. The two entered, noticing how cold and damp the church was. Moor was hardly surprised by what she had seen. The interior was completely wrecked, with spews of benches scattered all around, splintered and broken. Additionally, there were several broken windows, leaving only shattered, lingering remains. "Look at this place..." Charles muttered. "It's like a tornado ripped right through here!"
Moor was in agreement, stepping over several pieces of debris. "I don't understand who could stand to live here in such filth." she muttered. She stopped when she heard Charles shriek. Her eyes widened, whirling around to find the man backed up against the wall. "What's wrong?!"
"S-something's rubbing against my leg!" he screamed.
Moor looked down at his leg, and sighed. "...Charles, it's a cat."
"Huh?" The man looked down. And sure enough, a grown, orange Tabby rubbed against his leg affectionately.
Moor sighed, shaking her head as she picked up the furball, giving Charles a disapproving look. Honestly, how was someone as easily-frightened as he was a cop? However, before she could reprimand him, they hard a rustling sound above them. "What is...?" She looked up...
...and found herself caught in a torrent of bats.
"GYAAAAAAAAGHHHHH...!" The high-pitched screams of both cops could be heard outside the church's walls.
"Get away, get away!" Charles screamed, flailing his arms around in an attempt to keep them away from him. Moor tried to endure the storm, holding the cat close to her. Her eyes tried to see through the swarm, but she could barely see past the flock. Charles' commotion must have woken them up from their sleep. Typical of him to cause trouble!
'Wait, what is that?' Moor's eyes frowned when she saw something flowing through the black thickness. Her eyes widened as it neared closer.
It was a hand. A pitch black hand.
"Kyagh!" She leaped backward in fright. She tried to run, but whoever owned the disembodied limb was faster. The fingers curled around her throat, and her feet were thrown off the ground, and was lifted off with the flow of bats. Her body was carried up towards the stairs. Charles whimpered as he stood up to his feet, shaking. "T-that was terrifying..." Charles muttered as he clamored to his feet. "Moa, you okay? ...Moa?"
"I got you~"
Moor coughed hapharzardly as she was thrown violently into the chair in the room, the door swinging harshly on it's hinges as it closed. She gasped for breaths as the tomcat leaped out of her arms, meowing in fright. The being's grip loosened. "Wait, you..." it said in confusion. "You aren't...oh, drat. I grabbed the wrong one, didn't I?" Slowly, the arm pulled back, fingers pulling away from her throat. As soon as it did, Moor quickly whipped out a pair of handcuffs, and snapped it around it's wrist. "Eh?"
Moor glowered as she looked up, glaring at whoever was holding her captive. "You just made a big mistake!"
"Oh dear..." the figure said lowly. "Law enforcement?"
"That's right, and your under arrest!"
"...Eh?" The person glanced at the silver cuff around his wrist. He then looked up to the woman's miffed face, then the cuff again. Moments later, his mind finally processed what just happened. "...EEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?!"
"N-now hold on a minute!" the figure shouted. "I wasn't trying to grab you on purpose! I was chasing after that damned feline!" Moor frowned, about to open her mouth, but then the darkness parted as the moonlight flooded into the room, thus revealing the figure to her. It was a young boy, likely no older than fifteen or so, with snow white hair and silver gray eyes, and a strange scar over the left eye, bearing a pentagon atop his left eyebrow. His attire was hardly ready for winter, consisting only of a dress shirt and black pants. "Believe me, I honestly didn't mean to grab you," the boy said in earnest. "I wasn't aware this was under the jurisdiction of Scotland Yard."
"Y-yes it is." She nodded, still surprised that her prisoner was only a child.
The boy sighed. "Good grief, I run into the church to escape the rain, and then I ended up losing Timcampy to an overgrown furball." He glared at the tomcat, who meowed as if to gloat. "Oh, wipe that smirk off your face, you tub of lard."
"If I may ask...what are you doing here?" Moor asked. "In London, I mean."
"Traveling, mostly. I'm looking for someone." the boy answered. "I arrived from India a few weeks ago after traveling with a damned drunkard."
Somewhere in the world, a red-haired man surrounded by several voluptuous woman sneezed violently, nearly losing his grip on his wine. "Who the hell is talking about me...?"
Back in the present, Moor eyed the boy skeptically. "...do you have any form of verification?" she asked. "If you can from India, you must have a passport."
"Ah, well..." He trailed off.
Moor sighed. So he came here without any form if identification? That complicated things. "Just stay here," she told him as she turned to the door. "I'm going to go speak with my-"
"GYAAAAAAAAAGH!"
Moor's eyes widened as she whirled around. "That's Charles!" she screamed with fright. She turned to the white-haired boy. "You stay here!" She didn't allow for him to respond, and bolted out of the door. She quickly ran down the stairs, her heart pounding. "Charles! Charles!" she screamed out, coming down to the foot of the stairs. "Are you-"
Her breath was caught in her throat, eyes wide in horror. She found Charles...but his body was chained to a pillar, his attire in tatters, and smoke flowing off of him. His face was set into agonizing pain, gasping while black markings resembling stars blotched his skin.
"M-Moor..." He wheezed. Tears streamed down from his terrified and pain-filled eyes as the markings slowly expanded and spread around his body. "H-Help...me..."
The girl was too terrified to respond. The man was groaning and wheezing in pain, and the markings continued to spread until it completely turned his skin black. "Ch-Charles..." Then, his body crumbled apart, falling to the ground and breaking apart into smoke. Her eyes widened as she slowly advanced toward the still pinned clothing. Despite his body breaking apart, Charles' clothes remained chained to the pillar. "M-my god..." she whimpered. "T-the rumors...they're true...!" As the smoke danced around her, spreading out, her lungs began strain, and her throat burned. She felt the air in her lungs beginning to thin. 'What's going on?' she thought in confusion. 'Why is it so hard to...?'
Suddenly, a cloth was put over her face, and her body pulled back, thrown into utter shock. "If I were you, missy," the white-haired boy told her. "I wouldn't breath this in. It's bad for your lungs." He looked at the tattered remains of Charles. She could have sworn his eyes turned gold. "So, the Earl was here...it figures that this would be the work of an Akuma."
Moor's consciousness waned. "A...kuma...?" she whispered before her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and fell to unconsciousness.
"...well, it's about time you woke up, Hanes!"
"Wh-wha..." Moor grunted as her vision refocused, her mind slowly clearing up.
Slowly, she pulled herself upright, having been lying down on a bench with her jacket covering over her like a blanket. She looked around, and to her surprise, her surroundings were familiar. They should be, given that it was the main office of Scotland Yard. She looked off to her side, and found two officers sitting close by, carrying steaming mugs. "W-what...where am I?" she questioned. "Moreover...how did I..."
"Easy there, Hanes..." One of the officers rested a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay..."
The woman cringed as she held her head in her hand. Her head was a mess. She could barely think. "...wait," she turned to her colleague. "By any chance, did I come here with a white-haired boy?"
"Actually, he's the one who brought you here." the officer replied, jabbing his thumb at the door to the interrogation room. "The captain is speaking with him right now. He says he wants you to be in there."
"He did?" She raised a brow. No doubt the captain wants her input of what happened. "Alright." She stood up and went over to the designated room.
She opened the door, closing it behind her. The interrogation room was rather stereotypical of it's name, being rather small with only two chairs, one on opposing sides of the table placed in between them. The chief, a rather portly man in a brown suit with dark messy hair and a fierce, glaring look on his face sat at one end, and the white-haired boy sat at the other, his legs crossed and his hands folded in a neat manner, a calm and easy smile on his face. Strangely, much to Moor's confusion, she found the tomcat sitting on her lap, and...wait, was it just her imagination, or was that a golden ball with wings and a tail sitting atop his head?!
"Good, you're here." the chief said, clearly in annoyance as he stared, or rather glared depending on who you asked. "I've been interrogating our main suspect!"
"Ouch, rather harsh." the boy chuckled. Moor hadn't noticed it before, but his tone was oddly mature for someone of his age, and his manner of speech was akin to a noble. Perhaps he was a runaway son of a lord? "Out of curiosity, may I ask how exactly am I a suspect in your investigation?"
"You were the only other person present in the Church where Charles was killed!" The Chief slammed his hands on the table, shouting at the boy.
The boy didn't look the slightest bit disturbed. Instead, he raised up his hands in defense. "Now now, Inspector," he said with a suave tone, further implying him to be of nobility. "It's a bit unfair to be making accusations when you have no proof. Rather unbefitting of a man of your position." The Chief was fuming, face red. Moor was vastly impressed. The chief was known for having a short temper, but this was the quickest she had seen someone piss him off. "Also, I wasn't the one who killed Officer Charles."
"Then enlighten me, who did?!"
The white-haired boy's smile became darker, and his eyes developed a sinister look to them. Moor felt her spine shiver. What was with that look? It seemed...inhuman. As if she were staring at someone that was most definitely anything but a child. "Not a who," the boy corrected the chief. "A what. Tell me, have you ever heard of an Akuma?"
"A-Akuma?" the man stuttered.
The boy titled his head. "In Japan, "akuma" is typically used to describe evil spirits or monsters, though the former are better known as youkai. However, that term doesn't quite describe what killed your subordinate in that Church. An Akuma is a monster born as a result of a twisted resurrection gone wrong, a damned soul twisted with regret. With each victim it kills, the more it's power grows."
The chief's face went deathly pale, but his fiery glare remained. "Y-you're lying!" he growled. "There's no such thing as demons! You have to be the killer!"
"According to your investigations," the boy continued without breaking stride. "The area was riddled with bullet holes, and the only items I had on me were this darling little cat," In response to being called on, the tub of lard meowed. "And this little guy." He tapped his finger on the golden ball, which flapped it's wings. Moor stared at it with utter confusion. What on Earth was that thing? Was, was it alive? "Also, the bullet holes were far too large to have been fired by an ordinary firearm."
"Then what about your arm?!" the chief roared, still denying the boy's claims, pointing to his bandaged limb. "You must have injured it while you were killing Charles!"
The boy sighed. "Ignorant, I see." he said sadly. "Humans truly cannot accept what they cannot comprehend...but very well. I'll humor you." The boy took hold of a loose bandage, and slowly began to unravel the bindings. Moor felt herself swallow down a nervous lump in her throat. Her anxiety was growing as the cloth fell to the floor. "This, ladies and gentlemen," the boy announced as he held out his arm for the two to see in it's full glory. "Is the only thing that can kill an Akuma."
The chief's eyes were bulging, while Moor took a step back in fright. "M-my god..."
The boy's arm was anything BUT normal. The flesh was a jet black and somewhat venous. It seemed to even be somewhat scaly. The fingernails were long and black like ink. On the back of his hand seemed to be four silver, diamond shape markings that formed a cross.
"If this doesn't convince you, Inspector..." the boy said slowly with a creepy smirk plastered across his face. "Then I'm afraid I don't know what will...except perhaps seeing the Akuma in person. Word of warning, however. Any who lay eyes on a servant of the Earl of Millennium shall not live to tell the tale."
"Servant...Earl of...Millennium...?" The terms confused Moor. Just what did they mean?
The chief, however, had lost any pretense of fear. Rather, he was outraged by the outlandish behavior this boy was spouting off. He talked like he was some kind of damned bigshot, and what the hell was he even talking about?! Akuma?! Rubbish! Total and utter rubbish! Dammit, he couldn't stand to look at this guy any longer! He rounded on Moor, who stood straighter upon seeing his furious expression. "Officer Hanes, this brat is not allowed to leave your sight, do you understand me?!"
Moor's jaw dropped. "E-excuse me, sir?!" she gawked in utter confusion. She had to look after this guy?! "You can't seriously expect me to look after him?!"
The Chief's glare left no room for argument. In the end, the brunette sighed as she hung her head low in defeat, giving into her superior's demands. Meanwhile, the white-haired teen chuckled as he wrapped his deformed limb back in the bandages. "This will certainly be interesting," he mused as he looked at the golden ball on his shoulder. "Don't you think so, Timcampy?"
The golden ball flapped it's wings, as if in agreement.
"Looks like you've done well~" a cold, malevolent voice called out from the darkness. In the more luxurious part of the city, there stood a small house, which was the home of one Moor Hanes. In a certain room, there was a wizened, feeble man with brown hair that was left messy, falling down to his shoulders. His eyes were cold and empty, as if they were a void, and his frame was old and frail, left in a wheelchair. All around him was a dark mist, some of it expelled from his mouth as he exhaled. Standing behind him was an inhuman figure, wearing a large overcoat with a red scarf and black and white-striped pants with pointed shoes, and an umbrella with a pumpkin-head tip. His face was inhuman, bearing elongated, pointed ears with a gigantic jaw that hung down to his chest, and round glasses, complete with a top hat. "My precious little Akuma~ You must continue to take human lives in order to continue evolving~"
"...Marc? Marc, are you awake?" Upon hearing the voice calling out, the demonic man chuckled as he fell back into the darkness, the miasma vanishing with him. The door to the room opened, revealing Moor Hanes, now clad in a shirt and blue skirt. "Oh, there you are," she said with a slight look of worry. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long."
"...it's fine..." the man, Marc, said. "What are you doing home so early...?"
Moor didn't answer. Rather, her gaze was fixed was on the plate of food she has set out for him before she had left. It was completely untouched. "...again?" she asked in concern as she closed the door behind her. "You haven't been eating lately. How do you expect to stay healthy if you don't eat?"
"I...just haven't had an appetite lately." Marc replied listlessly. "Don't worry, it's fine...I'll be hungry again soon."
Moor's eyes softened, looking at her brother-in-law. Two years, and he still looked like a corpse. She would have thought that, perhaps, he would have become more full of life, if only a little, but even after all of this time, he still looked so hollow, so...dead. It pained her to see him like this. "Listen, Marc," she whispered as she took his cold hands into hers, kneeling down in front of him. "Don't stop fighting. I'm sure my sister would..."
She trailed off when she heard the sound of crashing up above on the floor above her, followed by yelps and the sound of hissing. "Oi, don't you dare!" the boy's voice cried out. "I let you eat Tim once, and I will not let you do so again, you damned feline!"
Moor frowned. What on earth was that boy doing? She told Marc she would check up on him later, and left the room, heading upstairs to the guest room where she had left the boy earlier. She opened the door...and sweatdropped at what she saw. The white haired boy was holding the gold, winged ball with one hand while keeping the cat away with the other.
"...what on Earth are you doing?"
"What does it look like?!" the boy snapped as he kept the cat away from the golden winged ball. "If Timcampy gets eaten again, that perverted drunkard is going to chew my head off until the end of time, and believe me, it's not a pleasant experience!" The cat hissed, trying to gobble up the golden ball. "Oh no you don't! Back! Back you damned beast!"
But the cat proved to be persistent and tried to walk along his arm to reach the tiny winged sphere.
Moor groaned as she palmed her face. 'Of all the idiots...!'
(Time Skip)
"...so, tell me something, mystery boy," Moor said as she sat down in her chair. It had been half an hour since she managed to pry the damned cat away from him, which was now sitting loftly on the couch, curled up and snoring away. "How confident are you that this killer your after is an Akuma?"
"I'm pretty confident, miss Hanes." The boy replied. "First of all...anyone who is sent to investigate the Church disappear, correct? Gone without a trace?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"And do you remember what happened back at the Cathedral, where that partner of yours disintegrated? You saw those black star marks on his body, correct?"
She cringed, remembering her partner's agony-filled face, but nodded nonetheless. "Y-yes..."
"You see, the Akuma possess a toxin that can kill a human in seconds," the boy explained. "There is no cure to stop the toxin, and even if there was one, the poison would kill you before you even had time to administer it. When the poison is administered, black pentacles will begin to appear on the victim's body, and will spread at a terrifying rate. Once the body is turned completely black, they crumble apart into dust. I believe you saw that part for yourself."
"O-okay then...how exactly are you supposed to find this monster then?" Moor asked in confusion. "According to the encyclopedia-"
"The book tells of creatures created by human imagination to explain diseases and natural disasters," the boy cut her off sharply. "The creature I'm after is a weapon that can take on the form of a human, and it's sole existence is to kill humans."
"Because...they're servants of this...Earl of Millennium?"
"Yes." The boy nodded again, his eyes grave. "The Earl is the one who creates them. Allow to put it to you this way, Miss Hanes. Picture this, you have lost a dearly beloved, a loved one, say a sister or brother, a lover, husband or wife, or even a parent. You can't bear to live without them, and you feel weak. Helpless. Vulnerable. Loathing the existence you find yourself in after their passing. Then, suddenly, this man comes along, and says that he can bring back your loved one. You feel skeptical, but you agree to this man's ideas. All he says you need to do is call out that person's name, and you do so. And they come back to life..."
This time, she was sure her eyes were not playing tricks. As lightning boomed outside, she saw his eyes turn gold.
"...only to have them curse your existence for bringing them back, and then kill you, and use your skin to hide among the humans. That is what an Akuma is...and that is the sort of person the Earl of Millennium is."
Moor could not say anything. She was speechless at what she just heard. His words...they sounded so surreal. "H-how...how do you know all of this?" she couldn't help but ask. That was the question that had been plaguing her mind. Ever since last night, her world had suddenly been thrown for a loop. It was as if someone had just thrown her into a world where she understood nothing. The boy acted like no child. In fact, he carried himself in an aristocratic manner, and held knowledge of things humans could not begin to comprehend. Whoever this boy was...he was certainly no ordinary person. No, this wasn't a boy, she concluded. This was a young man. A man who had been fighting these...Akuma...for years. "Who in the world...are you?"
"Ah, yes, I never got around to introducing myself, have I?" the boy smirked. "Then allow me to introduce myself properly. I am-"
Suddenly, the door was thrown open, cutting the boy off. The two whirled around, and found Marc at the doorway...only he did not look well. His face was set into one of pure agony, veins cracking around his eyes, which were outlined by black marks. His eyes were bulging, as if they were ready to burst out. "Marc?!" Moor cried out in panic, running to her brother-in-law's side. "Marc, what's wrong?!"
"Get away from him!" The boy shouted out with urgency.
"Wh-what?!" Moor snapped her head to him. Why would she do that?!
"He's an Akuma!"
Then, before the girl could do anything, before she even had a chance to realize what was going on...Marc's body began to implode. His limbs began to twist and mangle, the bones cracking apart and twisting with the muscles of his body. Pieces of hardware like red and blue wires and tubing were expelled from his body, as well as some kind of scaly, green material. Moor did nothing but watch, seeing the horrific change that was overcoming her beloved brother-in-law. All that remained of him was his face, which was now etched unto the front of the being he had become; a giant orb with tubes sticking out of him, and a face, Marc's face, branded on the front with black and white roots keeping it attached to the body. "W-what..." the poor girl whimpered in confusion. "W-what's...happening...? M-Marc...?"
The being said nothing. Instead, the tubing curled and twisted, and were aimed directly at her. Her eyes widened, as did the boy's who realized what was about to happen.
In the next second, the house exploded, and the white-haired boy, along with Moor, were thrown out of the building, and sent flying straight into the church. They broke through the wall, the boy tumbling on the ground while shielding Moor. He rolled back onto his feet and set her down. "...well," he said evenly. "That was a thing." The Akuma floated into the building through the giant hole in the wall, the cannons on its body turned and facing the duo.
"Oi, you two!" The boy turned his head and found the police Chief, accompanied by several men, entering the Church, having heard the commotion as they were investigating the area. "What in the holy hell are you doing-" He stopped when he saw the Akuma entering the church, slowly turning to them. "Oh my god...!" Quickly, the soldiers brought up their guns, and quickly opened fire.
None of them even so much as scratched the body. "Don't bother!" the boy shouted at the Inspector. "Normal guns won't do a damned thing!"
The Akuma slowly turned it's gaze to them...and aimed it's guns at them. Moor's eyes widened with horror. Oh no...no! "Run!" the boy cried out. The officers were too terrified to do anything. "Run!"
They didn't even had a chance to run. The Akuma wouldn't let them. It opened fire, and purple bullets rained down on them, piercing their bodies, over and over and destroying the area, throwing debris and dust clouds into the air. The white-haired boy quickly put himself in between Moor and the Akuma as it continued fire off shot after shot, not willing to risk Moor being gunned down in the crossfire. By the time the dust settled, what greeted the two was a sight of dread...nothing but a pile of ashes and bullet-riddled clothes. "N-no..." Moor whimpered. "C-Chief...everyone...!" Tears fell from her eyes, her heart being torn with grief as her glare became directed at the Akuma. "You monster! How?! How could you do this, Marc?!"
"Forget it," the boy told her calmly. He didn't feel anything for the deaths of those men. He gave them their warning, and they refused to heed it. He supposed it was within human nature to stand in horror and awe of what they could no understand nor comprehend, but in their case, what stood before them was an avatar of death. "That isn't your brother anymore. The Akuma killed him and wore his skin like a suit. Besides, it can't hear you. Like I said before...the Akuma is a tortured, damned soul. It follows the orders of the Earl of Millennium, and kills in order to grow stronger."
"So it's just a mindless killing machine?!"
The boy chuckled as he stood up to his feet. "Oh no, far from it." he said coldly in amusement. "I told you, didn't I? The Earl of Millennium will return your dearest beloved to you...only for it to curse you for bringing it back and then kill you. The Earl used Marc to summon the soul of someone he had lost, and used his sadness, his grief, and his own darkness to warp that soul. What you're looking at is the product of that sorrow." The boy crossed his arms over his chest. "I can see the Akuma's tortured soul...it's agonizing over what it's doing, and it can't do a damned thing to stop itself. It can do nothing but watch as it continues to sin. Miss Hanes...by any chance, was Marc married?"
The question took the police girl off guard. What did that have to do with their situation?! "Y-yes...my sister. Why?"
"Because the Akuma's soul is wearing a wedding dress."
Moors eyes widened. A wedding dress...? Then...c-could it be...?!
Two years ago, there was once a happy couple that was ready to be wed. The ceremony was held in a church, and many of the townsfolk came to attend. Among those attendants was the bride's sister. who was happy for the couple. It was a joyous occasion, and the happiness of the two soon newly-weds would be engraved as one of the greatest memories in their lives.
Tragedy, however, would not allow it.
After the couple had reached the altar, the cross hanging above them came loose. Were it not for the bride, they both would have been crushed...thus, only the groom survived.
From that day one, he cursed god's existence. How could he have allowed this to happen? What had they done to deserve this? They were so happy...they were going to be husband and wife! And yet, in His damnable house, he lost the love of his life! For what?! What, he asked! It was unfair! Why must he be tortured so?!
The darkness and despair in the groom's heart grew ever larger, until one day...HE came.
"I can bring your dear darling Clair back to life~!"
The Earl of Millennium approached the despairing man, bestowing him an offer. And offer to reunite with his deceased beloved. The skepticism of the man's mind was overshadowed by his grief and heartbreak. Without a moments hesitation, he accepted.
And tragedy begets tragedy once more...
"S-sister..." Moor dropped to her knees, unable to comprehend it all. "N-no...there's no way..." she shook her head in denial. "There's no way that thing could be my sister!"
The Akuma slowly turned towards the woman, it's eyes blank as the void, and aimed it's weapons at her. Moor didn't even look up, nor could she comprehend it all. There was no way this...this thing was her sister! The Akuma's weapons fired, shooting the purple bullets straight for her. Moor still couldn't comprehend. Perhaps a part of her was resigned to her fate. Perhaps a part of her was waiting for this to happen.
However...the bullets never touched her.
"...Crowned Clown."
A white veil materialized and shielded her from the projectiles. Moor turned to see where the white fabric came from, and was shocked to see that it was from the boy's new attire. His left arm had changed significantly, the fingers now resembling knife blades as well as adopting a sleeker form. A Pierrot eye mask was positioned over his face. A feathery white cape was draped around his shoulders. His skin had changed as well. It was now ashen gray, and his white hair flourished into black.
"Wretched soul, cursed by the Earl of Millennium," the boy said as a smile appeared over his face, neither kind nor cruel. "Allow me to put you to rest." The Akuma roared as it trained it's cannons on the boy and fired. The boy charged in, his left hand moving like a blur to deflect the incoming projectiles. The white cloak moved as if it was a living creature, defending against the bullets. The hand moved swiftly, the tips poised to strike.
With a single strike, the hand pierced through the Akuma's body with ease, breaking apart it's body in a single hit. The Akuma's face remained set into agony, even as it's body began to break down. The boy smiled as his hand pulled away, leaving the body to break apart.
"May your soul rest in peace."
Moor's eyes widened as she watched the wretched Akuma break apart, piece by piece. For a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw someone; a woman garbed in a snow-white wedding dress. "Sis...ter..." tears fell from her face, seeing the happy smile on the woman's face, though the apparition quickly faded. The Akuma's body broke apart, with any remnant's of it's existence dissolving.
The boy landed on his feet, with the white cloak slowly flowing around him. To the police woman's shock, the mask removed itself without him even touching it, seemingly becoming apart of the cape. At that moment, he looked anything but a fifteen-year old boy. At that time, right now, all she saw was a man. The cloak slowly receded, fading away into a green light around his arm. The blade-like fingers retracted, reverting back to it's original form. His skin returned to it's original color, and his black hair returned to white. His eyes also returned to their original silver gray luster. "May you rest in peace, Clair Hanes..." the boy whispered as he slid his hands into his pockets. He looked up, and found the sun slowly breaking into the disheveled church. "Ah...looks like morning's arrive. I do love the sunrise."
He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the still shocked Moor. "Don't you think so, Miss Hanes?"
The woman couldn't even speak. She still tried to process what just happened.
"W-who...who in the world...are you?"
The young man chuckled as he turned around on his feet, and performed a bow. "I am the one who will bring an end to time," he answered. "The one who inherit the name of the Millennium Earl."
Again, she knew, that his eyes turned fiery gold.
"I am the Fourteenth Noah...Neah D. Campbell."
-Chapter: END-
Preview:
Neah: Dear me, this is quite the unusual change of page. Out of the long depression and onto a new story, hm?
Allen: H-hey, wait a minute here! Why is Neah in control of my body?!
Neah: Dear nephew, didn't you read the summary? Killing your dear father took quite the toll on your mind, so I'm taking your place here.
Lavi: ...anyone else get the feeling that this can possibly go horribly wrong?
Lenalee: ...yep.
Neah: Next time on Hallowed Green, Chapter 2: The Fourteenth Noah. Stay tuned, dear readers~
Allen: H-hey! HEY! DON'T WRITE ME OFF!
