Post by Eszrai Isgrim on Feb 9, 2022 3:39:22 GMT
Ash is falling on the throat of the world, the mountain that would be no more. No sane person would or short be here right now, but yet here he was, sitting on the edge of the volcano. His blood red eyes looked down at the magma below, wondering what it was like... how it would feel... to push a man in.
His grey hood was on his head, heavy duty boots on his feet, the standard blue jeans on his legs, not too tight, not too baggy. His attire was inappropriate for his location, but the heat never bothered him. It reminded him of the heat he carried on his hip in the streets with Janiya, reflected in their once brilliant dead-pan red and black irises, tied down by a light, sliver necklace... a cross. A perfect fit for an imperfect boy.
He closed his eyes.
Screams of mothers now motherless and men in heaven without their widows. Sounds of metal hitting a hospital's hard clean and polished floor, repeating as a new mag enters a gun. Sensations of uniformed people's fists hitting him, over and over. The blood leaving both himself and them, staining the perfect walls of the NICU. Sights of hell. Malice, everyone; one for all, and all of that malice for one.
He smiled.
"Hey, monster." Monster? Who was speaking to him right now? Was it his own thoughts, seeing him for what he incorrectly was? Or was it something else? "I know you can hear me you bastard. Look at me!" The voice was now louder, prompting Eszrai Isgrim to open his eyes. He remained facing towards the volcano, irritating the voice that yearned for his attention. He felt the anger. He felt the spite. He felt...
"Killing me won't bring bring back your loved ones," Eszrai said with a dead voice, still not bothering to face the one who called out to him.
"Yeah it won't so what, but at least I can live the rest of my life knowing I avenged their deaths." The voice, male and high toned, replied back. Eszrai began to hear the familiar sound of a gun being cocked, then steps. First walking, breaking out into a full sprint. His heartbeat began to quicken, his body quiver, his fingers itch. "And I'll do it with the gun you left behind!" The trigger finger of the young man squeezed down, Eszrai heard it clearly, and he felt the Nen enhanced bullet cut through the thin air like butter, whizzing right to it's destination: the back of his head.
'So he wants revenge,' Eszrai thought, the world seemingly moving in slow motion for him, himself included. 'To soothe his own mind he gave into his anger...' The world returning to normal, Eszrai moved his head to the side with movements the young avenger couldn't see, his bullet flying past Eszrai's ears, hitting something else in the distance, much to Eszrai's disappointment. Getting to his feet, he brushed himself off, finally turning to face his attacker with a blank stare, but eagerness in his eyes.
"I guess I'll entertain you until then..." He said, knowing the outcome was decided already.
The young man, dressed in shiny silver armor, not as heavy to restrict his movement too much, but heavy enough to take the brunt of any normal attack. From his silver helmet, custom fit, to his braces he was covered head to toe, but Eszrai saw more. He saw the pure rage in the man's heart, the kind and sun kissed Nen that coated his coat of arms, and the gun... his gun, in the man's hands. Now being used against him. Eszrai broke into laughter at the sight.
"What the fuck is so funny?!" The armored man asked, receiving nothing but even more laughter from Eszrai. Screaming in rage, he again pointed the pistol at the hooded boy and fired several shots, each one stopping not even half the distance. The man stared at the falling shells and the smoking gun, shocked.
"Is that all you got?" Eszrai asked, holding up his own gun, smoking in the same manner.
"How the f..."
"You're just slow on the draw. Here, I'll go slower for you. You're supposed to do it like this." Eszrai, with impressive and blistering speed, took aim at the man's shoulder and fired, six times, each bullet plowing through the armor, chainmail, and skin... but never exiting. The man howled in pain, his screaming getting louder with each hit as he gripped his bleeding shoulder in agony. "I left this gun for you to do something with it, but I guess you just don't hate me enough."
"I... don't hate you enough?!" The man gritted his teeth so hard they began to crack. "I hate you with all my fucking heart! For ten years I trained for this day, for ten more I hunted you down! You took everything from me at five, FIVE! You'll fucking pay." Powering through his pain through his will, he reloaded the gun and discarded his shoulder pads. "I learned fire Nen from the best. You'll burn for eternity in whatever hell that awaits you. For my name isn't Hager Jameson." Hager's own fiery Nen, the power of his rage, hate and passion, began to form around him, red flames dancing from one end of his armor to the other, eager to spread their red beating heart.
"Hagar Jameson..." Eszrai looked down, the ash that fell around them stopping in mid-air, turning pitch black with a red outline. The 'ash' circled around the duo as Eszrai's own dark tainted Nen built up inside him, powered by his own desire to kill alongside his opponent's desire to kill him. Hager looked around him, disturbed by what he was seeing, a thick barrier of black Nen so small it resembles ash, circling around them... there was no escape, but it only strengthened his resolve. He was determined to end this thing. "I'll remember your name," Eszrai continued, his Malgrimace now a disturbing aura around him, "So I can kill your descendants next."
"I'd love to see you fucking try." Silence ensued. Not even the wind from the mountain entered the ear of a living thing. The thick Nen imbued ash vanished slowly as Eszrai and Hager's aura dissipated. "What just happened?" Hager asked, a lone trail of blood running down his lip. Eszrai walked up to the man, hands in his pockets.
"Already, huh?" Hager parted his lips to form a reply, but only blood freed itself. He fell to his silver knees, motionless and without voice, a trillion questions running through his head. What went wrong? He ran through the simulations thousands of times, how could he lose before the fight even began? As if Eszrai could read his mind, the crimson eyed Malice Child sighed. "When you fired your first shot." Hager's memory jumped back to when he first pulled the trigger at the boy's head, how he dodged it with ease and how it flew past him... "That bullet hit something you know. We both know it's my gun, it's my bullets your using. I just redirected the first one right back at you."
"But... how..." the dying Hagar asked with a weak voice.
"Doesn't matter now. You fucked up. And I really wanted to see what you'd do with all that malice in your heart, but you fucked up at the very beginning. Anyway there's something I wanna try out before you go." Eszrai didn't allow him to finish as he began to drag the man's limp body back up the slope to where he was sitting. Laying him down carefully, he placed his foot on his chest. Gaining an idea of what he was planning to do, Hager's eyes began to tear up, unable to speak or plead for his life... or the life of any distant relatives he may have. "What is it like when you push someone in?" He gave him a hard kick, and watched with interest as the young man tumbled down the fiery hill, hitting the magma with a smack.
There wasn't much screaming, there was too much molten liquid in his lungs and blood in his throat. Eszrai watched as he quickly fell into unconsciousness, the armor he wore to kill in wielding to his skin and bone. He watched on... and felt nothing new, nothing special, and all the malice that was born out of the now dead man has vanished. Perhaps it was the wrong man, or perhaps this is how it should feel. He didn't know. He didn't care.
Deciding the rest unclimactic, in his hands he molded a Nen Grenade out of his malice with his pinpoint precision control over the Malgrimace, throwing it in before Hager was fully submerged by the molten rock. With a snap, it detonated, beginning a chain reaction that would cause the volcano to erupt later that day. of course, even if he did know that, it wouldn't bother him.
His blood red eyes simply looked up at the lava pilar above, now mixed with bone and blood, gazing past the falling ash, wondering what it was like... how it would feel... to push a woman in.
His grey hood was on his head, heavy duty boots on his feet, the standard blue jeans on his legs, not too tight, not too baggy. His attire was inappropriate for his location, but the heat never bothered him. It reminded him of the heat he carried on his hip in the streets with Janiya, reflected in their once brilliant dead-pan red and black irises, tied down by a light, sliver necklace... a cross. A perfect fit for an imperfect boy.
He closed his eyes.
Screams of mothers now motherless and men in heaven without their widows. Sounds of metal hitting a hospital's hard clean and polished floor, repeating as a new mag enters a gun. Sensations of uniformed people's fists hitting him, over and over. The blood leaving both himself and them, staining the perfect walls of the NICU. Sights of hell. Malice, everyone; one for all, and all of that malice for one.
He smiled.
"Hey, monster." Monster? Who was speaking to him right now? Was it his own thoughts, seeing him for what he incorrectly was? Or was it something else? "I know you can hear me you bastard. Look at me!" The voice was now louder, prompting Eszrai Isgrim to open his eyes. He remained facing towards the volcano, irritating the voice that yearned for his attention. He felt the anger. He felt the spite. He felt...
"Killing me won't bring bring back your loved ones," Eszrai said with a dead voice, still not bothering to face the one who called out to him.
"Yeah it won't so what, but at least I can live the rest of my life knowing I avenged their deaths." The voice, male and high toned, replied back. Eszrai began to hear the familiar sound of a gun being cocked, then steps. First walking, breaking out into a full sprint. His heartbeat began to quicken, his body quiver, his fingers itch. "And I'll do it with the gun you left behind!" The trigger finger of the young man squeezed down, Eszrai heard it clearly, and he felt the Nen enhanced bullet cut through the thin air like butter, whizzing right to it's destination: the back of his head.
'So he wants revenge,' Eszrai thought, the world seemingly moving in slow motion for him, himself included. 'To soothe his own mind he gave into his anger...' The world returning to normal, Eszrai moved his head to the side with movements the young avenger couldn't see, his bullet flying past Eszrai's ears, hitting something else in the distance, much to Eszrai's disappointment. Getting to his feet, he brushed himself off, finally turning to face his attacker with a blank stare, but eagerness in his eyes.
"I guess I'll entertain you until then..." He said, knowing the outcome was decided already.
The young man, dressed in shiny silver armor, not as heavy to restrict his movement too much, but heavy enough to take the brunt of any normal attack. From his silver helmet, custom fit, to his braces he was covered head to toe, but Eszrai saw more. He saw the pure rage in the man's heart, the kind and sun kissed Nen that coated his coat of arms, and the gun... his gun, in the man's hands. Now being used against him. Eszrai broke into laughter at the sight.
"What the fuck is so funny?!" The armored man asked, receiving nothing but even more laughter from Eszrai. Screaming in rage, he again pointed the pistol at the hooded boy and fired several shots, each one stopping not even half the distance. The man stared at the falling shells and the smoking gun, shocked.
"Is that all you got?" Eszrai asked, holding up his own gun, smoking in the same manner.
"How the f..."
"You're just slow on the draw. Here, I'll go slower for you. You're supposed to do it like this." Eszrai, with impressive and blistering speed, took aim at the man's shoulder and fired, six times, each bullet plowing through the armor, chainmail, and skin... but never exiting. The man howled in pain, his screaming getting louder with each hit as he gripped his bleeding shoulder in agony. "I left this gun for you to do something with it, but I guess you just don't hate me enough."
"I... don't hate you enough?!" The man gritted his teeth so hard they began to crack. "I hate you with all my fucking heart! For ten years I trained for this day, for ten more I hunted you down! You took everything from me at five, FIVE! You'll fucking pay." Powering through his pain through his will, he reloaded the gun and discarded his shoulder pads. "I learned fire Nen from the best. You'll burn for eternity in whatever hell that awaits you. For my name isn't Hager Jameson." Hager's own fiery Nen, the power of his rage, hate and passion, began to form around him, red flames dancing from one end of his armor to the other, eager to spread their red beating heart.
"Hagar Jameson..." Eszrai looked down, the ash that fell around them stopping in mid-air, turning pitch black with a red outline. The 'ash' circled around the duo as Eszrai's own dark tainted Nen built up inside him, powered by his own desire to kill alongside his opponent's desire to kill him. Hager looked around him, disturbed by what he was seeing, a thick barrier of black Nen so small it resembles ash, circling around them... there was no escape, but it only strengthened his resolve. He was determined to end this thing. "I'll remember your name," Eszrai continued, his Malgrimace now a disturbing aura around him, "So I can kill your descendants next."
"I'd love to see you fucking try." Silence ensued. Not even the wind from the mountain entered the ear of a living thing. The thick Nen imbued ash vanished slowly as Eszrai and Hager's aura dissipated. "What just happened?" Hager asked, a lone trail of blood running down his lip. Eszrai walked up to the man, hands in his pockets.
"Already, huh?" Hager parted his lips to form a reply, but only blood freed itself. He fell to his silver knees, motionless and without voice, a trillion questions running through his head. What went wrong? He ran through the simulations thousands of times, how could he lose before the fight even began? As if Eszrai could read his mind, the crimson eyed Malice Child sighed. "When you fired your first shot." Hager's memory jumped back to when he first pulled the trigger at the boy's head, how he dodged it with ease and how it flew past him... "That bullet hit something you know. We both know it's my gun, it's my bullets your using. I just redirected the first one right back at you."
"But... how..." the dying Hagar asked with a weak voice.
"Doesn't matter now. You fucked up. And I really wanted to see what you'd do with all that malice in your heart, but you fucked up at the very beginning. Anyway there's something I wanna try out before you go." Eszrai didn't allow him to finish as he began to drag the man's limp body back up the slope to where he was sitting. Laying him down carefully, he placed his foot on his chest. Gaining an idea of what he was planning to do, Hager's eyes began to tear up, unable to speak or plead for his life... or the life of any distant relatives he may have. "What is it like when you push someone in?" He gave him a hard kick, and watched with interest as the young man tumbled down the fiery hill, hitting the magma with a smack.
There wasn't much screaming, there was too much molten liquid in his lungs and blood in his throat. Eszrai watched as he quickly fell into unconsciousness, the armor he wore to kill in wielding to his skin and bone. He watched on... and felt nothing new, nothing special, and all the malice that was born out of the now dead man has vanished. Perhaps it was the wrong man, or perhaps this is how it should feel. He didn't know. He didn't care.
Deciding the rest unclimactic, in his hands he molded a Nen Grenade out of his malice with his pinpoint precision control over the Malgrimace, throwing it in before Hager was fully submerged by the molten rock. With a snap, it detonated, beginning a chain reaction that would cause the volcano to erupt later that day. of course, even if he did know that, it wouldn't bother him.
His blood red eyes simply looked up at the lava pilar above, now mixed with bone and blood, gazing past the falling ash, wondering what it was like... how it would feel... to push a woman in.
