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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/419030
by X-Bug
Rated: 18+ · Book · Fantasy · #1093300
Raziel's life is somewhat mediocore and lonley, but can one tiny event change it?
#419030 added April 12, 2006 at 12:11pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter 9: Bleeding Inside
Chapter Nine: Bleeding Inside

It was early morning, maybe around 7 or 8 AM. Crystal had been kind enough to fix them up a breakfast. All though it was delicious, Raziel would've rather just moved on. They didn't really have time for this, today was Friday, which meant that tryouts for football were tommorow, as well as the court case. The court case. The thought of it bugged him, they weren't really prepared, but so no reason to be. The court officials around Sansville probably weren't too bright, either. Raziel's decision that made him think that was the pure fact of how stupid certain "important" people were. Like most of the retarded police officers(excluding Carve), the more than likely idiotic mayor(who the hell would allow somebody to enjail kids?), and a few other things that probably didn't need to be mentioned.

Raziel took everybody's plate into the sink and thanked Crystal before they left. Something was still weird though; why in the world couldn't they get a ride from Crystal? Raziel had something to complain about as the long walk began. What a way to top off a morning, considering how long it took them the first time(or what Raziel remembered), it would probably take about 16 hours. On foot, thats a long way to travel. Without water, that is a long way to travel. In fact... it's a long way regardless.

"Man, I can't believe were stuck walking." Drake moaned. Raziel looked over at him and gave him one of those "no shit" looks. He just figured it out, muscles there apparently has only body mass, Raziel mentally laughed.

"It could be worse... maybe." Chelsea giggled. She grabbed Raziel's hand and smiled.

"You two lovebirds got each other," Corey pointed out, "Who am I stuck with? Muscles?" Raziel laughed. In a way, Drake didn't really deserve the nickname, in fact, he deserved an actual punishment for the real crimes he committed. But, maybe the nickname muscles all the time would be a good way to start his punishment off.

"Hey, my muscles saved your ass!" Drake laughed. That's an actual point, Raziel thought, and coming from that moron it sounds intelligent. Corey just scoffed.

"Oh please, I was just letting you have some fun." Corey said. Drake reddened.

"Letting me have some fun? I practically fought the entire time! Your just makin' up excuses.." Drake laughed, as well as the others. For a bunch of people walking through a hot, dry place, they seemed happy.

I'm having a good time, Corey thought, why should I ruin it by thinking about this whole "parents" thing? The question was baffaling, but it was one that couldn't go unasnwered, and the voice in Corey's head had to agree.

You have to face it, Renkei, it said, if you don't, only more misery and delay will come forth. Corey, mentally of course, wanted to smack that voice. The voice which was always right, no matter what. It brings to mind why if that voice exists in everyone's head and most of the times has the same amount of intelligence; why do some make stupid choices?

Of course, every member of the group was occupied with their own problems. All internal problems. Raziel had football tryouts, organizing the court plan(as well as Chelsea and Corey), and worrying about Chelsea.

Chelsea had only one thing to worry about: Raziel. The very short sentence "we should slow down" is a life changer in any relationship. It means that the partner is upset by the pace of the relationship, which she quickened. She couldn't help feeling guilty.

Corey had a great deal on his mind; his parents alone was a lot to deal with. From seeing what he saw, he knew that that was his father or mother. But then that brought up a problem. Spartan introduced them as both guys... would that make his parents homos? Then how was he birthed from them? Was he birthed? Or was he just an experiment? So many questions remained unanswered.

You might think that alone, on a trip lasting 16 hours, you'd be lonely. You'd also think that on that same exact trip, four people would of been a lot more happy or occupied with each other, thus was definetly not the case with this group. Each member had their own friend; their individual conciouncess. After a few hours, the day had deepened, and it was about noon. The sun was blazing.

"Jeez... we should've went back and asked for a ride." Panted Drake, who wiped his drenched forhead off using the back of his hand. The heat was getting to each of them, it hadn't shown through mirages yet, but their steps grew small and weak, and heavy breathing was very noticable. This sucks! Raziel thought, and was sure most of the others thought this as well. We're all going to die if we don't get water soon. Raziel kept walking regardlessly, and the others had to do the same.

After two hours had passed, the heat was even more intense. All the guys had taken their shirts off, and Chelsea took off her shirt so she was just in a sports bra.

"I like your new get-up.." Raziel snickered. Chelsea blushed but laughed as well.

"Oh please perv." She joked. Raziel smiled all though the heat was frowning at him with a message that represented: "Give up!" Raziel just ignored that heat, because it was an ignoramous. As another hour passed, an hour which felt like a torture filled month, everything was feeling hopeless. The heat had gotten to all of them, each of them, not seemed to be walking together, but walking at different angles to different imaginary things.

When all hope had died, and no one was willing to carry on, the unbeliavble happened. A real gas station was in the desert. Chelsea had spotted it first, and seemed to stray very distantly. Raziel, noticed how anticipated she looked. She had the "mirage" look out of her eyes. He followed her, and ran up to touch the object, to see if it was real. It was. The bricks were solid and rigid, there was no doubt that this was not a mirage.

They all rushed in, and slowly made their way to the checkout line with each carrying a gallon of water. The store smelled nice and casual, and the tempature was refreshing. There was a nice breeze, courtesy of air conditioning. They each line their gallons of water on the checkout counter, and sighed in relief. The clerk just frowned and pointed towards a sign.

"No shoes, no shirt, no service." Raziel and the others were shocked. What the hell, man? We're going to die, and your not going to give us water because of your policy?! Corey thought angrily.

"What are you waiting for?" The clerk asked. "Get out, you heathens." Chelsea had fire burning in her eyes.

"Your telling me that your not going to give us, perfectly normal paying customers our selected items because of a policy?" Chelsea screamed. The clerk didn't look amused. "We're dying, damn it!" Chelsea yelled.

"Yeah, that's what they all say... your not getting anything! Now leave before I call security!" The clerk said defensivley.

"Security? What the hell are you talking about? You might be the only one in this wretched shop!" Chelsea yelled. The clerk's face grew more annoyed with every word Chelsea spoke.

"Listen, I am not hesitating to get security. I'll warn ya'lls one more time," He said in his redneck accent, "But ya'll gotta' leave." Chelsea looked like she was going to snap.

"Give us our damn water!" She screamed, slamming a random amount of money on the counter. The clerk's eyes widened.

"Okay.." He said in response. He grabbed the cash and put it into the register. Each of then took their gallon of water and drank them like crazy outside. The feel of water refreshing their throats was great, it couldn't be compared at that time. As long as they conserved their water and didn't lose it, the trip didn't seem so impossible. With each of them toting a large gallon of water, the trip had restarted.

"Wow Chelsea, I didn't know the bad side of you until today." Raziel laughed.

"Well, it shows you. Not only a man can be agressive." Chelsea said with a smirk and a "hmph" noise. Drake snorted.

"Please! Only a man can be agressive! You just got lucky that the clerk was so nice!" Drake said. What a dumbass, Raziel laughed in his head.

"Well, my agressiveness sure saved your life, didn't it?" Chelsea said in a mocking tone.

"Oh, you got dissed, my friend!" Corey said, nudging Drake's massive shoulder. Drake just ignored it. The group was hydrated and this meant that the trip back to Sansville would continue.

Razor frantically searched through a file cabinet, looking for a specific paper. That damned son of ours knows, Razor thought, I have to find his birth certificate and burn it, he cannot know, no one can. Spartan walked into the room with a glass of wine.

"What's wrong, Razor?" He had his hood off, with white tape around his wounds. Raziel had done quite the number on them, and healing was going to be a deciding factor on rather or not they would ever strike again. Razor glanced at Spartan and narrowed his eyes.

"I'm looking for the birth certificate." He said. Spartan's expression grimmed.

"Don't tell me..." Spartan said with doubt, "Please don't tell me he saw you without some of your hood." Razor looked back down on the file cabinet. He nodded.

"Idiot! I told you to protect our identity at all times!" Spartan yelled. Razor sighed. "Oh well... if we're lucky, we might not even have to worry about burning it if our next plan goes good." Spartan chuckled.

"What would that be?" Razor asked, slamming the file cabinet, not being able to find the birth certificate. Spartan's lips curled into a sly smile.

"You'll see soon enough..." He said quietly.

It was 8 o' clock and the group had began to settle down, each sitting on their half gone water jugs. They all sat in a campfire like formation, except there was nothing in the center of the circle. It had been pretty quiet, not many people wanted to talk. Some of them were tired, the others were just too bored to bring any thing up. The stars had just came out and were shining over the desert terrain.

"It's nice." Chelsea said. Raziel and the rest nodded in agreement.

"Oh c'mon, it can't possibly be this mellow!" Chelsea said. Raziel glanced at her.

"Yeah it can, this is boring." Raziel sighed.

"Boys.." She groaned as she stood up an stretched.

"We should get going, we're not going anywhere sitting around." Corey said picking his water jug up. Drake seemed to agree.

"Yeah, I want to get back to wherever were headed." Corey laughed.

"You don't even know?" Corey asked. Drake shook his head.

"Oh well, you'll find out. Now, let's go." Raziel said. The trip was mellow, from there on. All though it was only about five hours from being completed, it didn't change the fact of how boring walking was. Of course, this didn't stop him from ocassionally hitting on Chelsea.

Raziel walked over and put a hand on her rear. Chelsea looked surprised and out of nowhere slapped Raziel. "Pervert!" Raziel rubbed his cheek.

"What the hell was that for?" Raziel asked. Chelsea laughed.

"Sorry, I thought you were somebody else!" Raziel didn't look amused.

"Who else would it of been? After all, you are mine, right?" Raziel asked. Chelsea just giggled.

"Of course, but you are the one who said slow it down!" Chelsea said. Raziel sighed a loud obnoxious sigh as Drake and Corey were tagging along. As they were walking, Corey tripped over something. He angrily got up and kicked some sand in the opposite direction. Raziel looked at what he tripped over it. It was a hard back novel. He picked it up and examined the cover. 'Book of Transformation Spells: Volume One'. Chelsea looked at it and raised an eyebrow.

"What would something like this be doing in the middle of the desert?" She asked. Raziel replied.

"Better question is, who would have something like this?" Raziel opened the book and dropped his jaw. The book was written in the oddest looking hand writing ever. Every page was with the same writing. He closed it up and gave it to Corey.

"Open it up, maybe you can make heads or tails of it." Raziel said. Odd, Raziel thought, it's weird enough we find a book in the middle of the desert, but what are the chances of ever seeing that handwriting? Not to mention, the book was ancient. The pages were yellow and fragile, as well as the binding of it. Another thing: why was the cover written in english and the content of the book wasn't? They were all very good questions, but all unanswerable ones.

Corey's heartbeat increased. He could read this. Where had he seen this before? There had to be a logical explanation. All eyes were on him the entire time.

If you wish to transform only select body parts into other things, just focus on that item with your eyes shut, and then, as you open them, think of you're arm. Corey found that sentence strange. He didn't have to do that, all he had to do was know what he wanted to do, none of the focusing stuff. He began to wonder if this was for people who weren't shape shifters, and wanted to do it.

Corey spoke in a monotone, "Raziel, try to transform your arm into something. Close your eyes and think about what you want it to change into, and then, as you open your eyes, think of your arm." Raziel dropped his jaw.

"You can read it?" Corey nodded lightly.

"Just do it." He said. Raziel thought of a gun, and then, opened his eyes and thought of his arm. Nothing happened.

"Nothing happened.." Corey mumbled. He must of skipped over something in the book, the information seemed really solid. Or was this just a trap? It couldn't be, that just didn't seem possible. Corey opened the book again and saw a name tag. 'This book belongs to: Nobias, The Great Magician of the Northeren Lands' was on the bold line, also written in the incredibly weird language.

"Guys, this belongs to Nobias, great magician of the northern lands." Corey said.

"Who is that? And besides, I don't think we should get worked up over some hocus pocus shit anyway." Raziel said. Drake agreed.

"C'mon, it's a magician, what all could he do? Pull a bunny from a hat?" Drake said. They both had a point. But, magician could've been an extended word for mage.

"Should we keep the book?" Raziel asked. Corey nodded.

"I would, this is just too weird to put down." Corey said. Raziel nodded and the small intermission ended.

In an unknown realm..

Nobias sat down in the wooden, chair sipping wine. He had long, white hair, and heavy eyes as he watched the women dance for him. He smiled. "That's right..." He said in his scratchy voice. "Do that..." Nobias wasn't even on Raziel's planet, he was off in a distant realm, which could only be entered if another tournament was held. Many wanted through, but Nobias did not feel like making another tournament, and it had been seven years since he had. He sighed. If he did, that would only make more trouble for the already troubled realm. But, soon enough, someone would shatter the mirror that held the bond between the two places.

Nobias lazily noticed how old and ran down the last arena was. The sign's letter had faded, 'Mirror Tournament XXVI', or 26, was a while ago. The task itself was just so annoying. All the work, all the money, and all the people that had to be hired and paid. He was a magician, a good one at that, but his magic had limits. He lifted his hands and made a mirror of stone rise from the ground. The dancers stopped.

Nobias adjusted his reading glasses and looked at the writing on the mirror. "Ahh... Raziel. I didn't think much of him when I saw him the first, but the way he's changed intrigues me," A little more popped up on the mirror-like screen, and soon, a whole page was there. Nobias gasped.

"Who is this Raziel Sallitine? He has readings of a high-level demonic warrior! This is ridiculous, this has never happened in the history of the Mirror Log!" Nobias said. The Mirror Log, or the huge stone mirror, was one of his greatest works. A combanation of a simple antique mirror and much enchantment by him, he cherished it as one of his huge acomplishments.

How did this happen? Nobias pondered. This Raziel fellow, at first, seem just a little bit more than the average human, but he's proved me wrong. He's a being of multiple porportions. Now, it leaves me with one choice... Mirror Tournament XXVII had to happen.

Raziel laid flopped down on his bed. They were finally home.

"Man I'm tired." He said. He threw the book on a shelf made of spare wood and held up by bungie cords.

"What time is it?" Corey yawned. Raziel took a guess.

"I think around 2:00 AM. Don't you have a watch, Chelsea?" Raziel asked. Chelsea shook her head.

Corey was on the couch and Drake had no where to sleep. "Where do I sleep?" He asked.

"I don't know, all we got is the couch and that mattress I found in the dumpster." Corey replied.

"Where's the dumpster?" Drake said.

"Not to far, walk a few blocks to the left and your bound to find it." Drake nodded and left the alley.

Chelsea buried her head in the crook of Raziel's neck. She smiled. Raziel wrapped his arms around her and also smiled. Their bodies lightly glew in the powerful moonlight.

At around 2:45 AM, Drake was returning with a mattress from the dump. "Damn this thing smells, good thing I sprayed it off with somone's hose though." Two police cars pulled up to him. Damn.

The police cars trained their headlights on him and their guns as well. Drake sighed. He put the mattress aside put his hands in the air.

"Drake Keroi, the sick, sick ol' bastard!" An officer yelled.

"If I was still like the old Drake Keroi, you wouldn't be talkin'." He said with a sly grin. The police officers just smiled.

"We got him!" He said, chaining his arms because hand cuffs didn't fit around his wrists. Drake squeezed his way into a car, and slowly and silently, the cop cars pulled away. Corey shook and wiggled. He was having a nightmare. He dreamed he was in a tube, and his parents didn't create him. Corey twitched over and over again, sweating. He finally rolled off the couch. In a scared daze, he stumbled quickly to his feet out of the alley. He screamed as he ran.

Rain had just started to start and the ground was getting slick. Corey staggered and fell flat on his knees. They were scraped terribly, but still, no blood flowed. "No!" He bellowed, clawing his way up. Corey just kept running. Suddenly, he saw a sign, which he couldn't read due to his state of panic. The sign said 'Warning! Attack Dogs!', Corey continued running and several dogs ran up to him.

"Stay away!" He screamed, stabbing one of them with his arm as a knife. The dog howled in pain, and then died. Corey was on a rampage, he couldn't stop. As he slaughtered all three of the dogs, he breathed heavily on the private property. It was raining even heavier now, and a mystic kind of glow had set in. He fell to his knees and pouned the ground. Mud came up and splattered all over him. He made his way back up, with his feet tripping on the slimy ground.

Corey cut through a fence using his arm as an ax. He slashed anything else in his way as well: Cars, street signs, traffic lights, trees, and even animals. He had snapped. The nightmare sent him into a stage of deep violence and denial. His inner demon was rattled and disturbed by his nightmare. He ran to the edge of a cliff and slammed himself down on the ground. His arm smacked the ground and it had a bruise the size of a ruler, only wider and uglier. It was black and pink, and very stiff as it lay down at his side.

However, no blood could be seen on his body. It's as if none was left in his body, as if his veins flowed nothing but hate from his exerted heart. Corey was lost in a mental battle, and he was losing terribly. He stood up and hung his head low, the shape-shifter was in pain. Why did it have to end up like this?

Corey! Corey! You idiot! Snap out of it, listen to me! The voice in Corey's head was stupefied in the dilema, and Corey's conciouncess gave a deaf ear to it's wishes. Thunder struck the sky, making it light up. Corey was breathing so heavy, he couldn't even hear it. The poor young man struggled with himself, knowing that death could strike at any moment.

"Kill me! Just kill me!" Corey begged. Tears streamed down his face, making his pale skin shine. The misery in him was uncomparable to anything he had ever felt before, all though blood was nowhere to be seen on his face, it was all around him. Combined with misery and self-hate, it lay there, giving Corey the reflection he never wanted to see.

Thunder hit the ground, causing an invisible foe to appear. Corey screamed at this foe, "Kill me! Please!" Before he knew it, the odd plasma creature had struck him everywhere. Corey's body was raggish, but no matter how badly he was pounded, blood refused to surface. The plasmic creature sent him airborne and then clubbed his head with a nearby small, steel post. Corey couldn't see anymore, all he saw was colorful blurs as the plasma man kept beating him. Corey began throwing himself into him, and was slammed into the earth each and every time.

The plasma guy slapped Corey back and forth, left to right, and then sent an elbow into his chest. Corey tumbled off the edge off the cliff, and spiraled towards his possible demise. The lake looked menacing in the dark night, but it glittered majestically under the stars and moons.

Corey's back smacked the water, causing it to sting incredibly. His cries grew stronger as he felt water fill his lungs. He panicked, waving and rocking back and forth. Corey was loosing his life, second after second, he was drained of his vitality. Corey floated to the surface, just barely alive. It was a pity to see him float across onto the shore.

All though he was just bruised and welted, no blood had surfaced yet. No matter how much blood could've spilled on him, it would never amount to the river of blood flowing within him.




© Copyright 2006 X-Bug (UN: davey21 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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