This place... (Open)

January 13th, 2012. 4:33 pm.


"An... Angel?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing... The woman had always heard stories about God and his army of angels that existed to carry out his will through punishing the wicked and uplifting those that deserved it, but apparently all of them were lies. Elijah Cross... A cruel manipulator, a bastard, a monster and he had the nerve, the audacity to claim himself as a instrument of God. She opened her mouth to speak, but she found no words, "No, no you can't be anything like that! We hit you and you bled, cried out asked us to stop... Why didn't you save yourself, why didn't you do anything to-?"

"I did."

She was cut off by the young man, no... Thing taking a step forward. "I brought you here, all three of you. He paused a brief moment, making a dramatic gesture to the hellish world surrounding the both of them, "Your group was prepared to end my life for the things I did, prepared to break one of the ten commandments." Elijah extended an index finger and waved it back and forth as if he were scolding a child, "Thou shalt not..." A grin spread across his bruised face, revealing his teeth that were caked with drying blood, "Come one, you know this!" Despite the circumstances, he refused to break his character. It was an intimidating sight to say the least. A man coming from the brink of death, covered in blood and bruises that just killed two others was holding a conversation as if nothing had happened.

"Kill..." Her voice shook as she uttered the final word of God's sixth commandment, and it seemed to make Elijah glow, "YES, YOU HAVE IT NOW! Thou Shalt Not Kill." He shouted, a slight giggle trailing behind, "And breaking that commandment is what you and I know as a mortal sin. Murder, cold blooded MURDER!" Elijah charged toward the woman and took hold of her head, each hand resting gently on her cheeks, "And a mortal sin is something that you simply can't atone for, my sweet..." He said, his voice soft and soothing, "And this is your punishment. Hell, eternal death and suffering. All because you couldn't just walk away. You needed revenge for what Elijah did to you."

It was strange to refer to himself in the third person, but this woman, this BITCH believed every word that came from his mouth. She had no reason to think it was all a lie, though. What you don't know can't hurt you, "Please, please just let me go..." She whimpered, begged pleaded for her life. She promised to change, to teach people to follow God's path and Elijah found it amusing, "I'll say my prayers before bed, bless my food, ANYTHING!" She began to sob, "JUST LET ME GO!"

Her scream, her desperate plea echoed through the chasm and filled Elijah's ears with such a beautiful ring. This is what he wanted, desired, he craved for it. True despair, REAL DESPAIR. It was intoxicating... No, it was simply orgasmic. Elijah pretended to think it over, processing the information she gave but his answer was already set. She wronged him and needed to die just like the rest. As a final show of 'kindness' he wiped away her tears with his bloody thumbs and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. This show elicited a sigh of what seemed to be relief. And as quickly as he gave her the comfort, Elijah ripped it away, "No."

Before the woman could react, Elijah took his thumbs, the same two that wiped away a bitter tear dug right into her eyes, pushing through with a wet squelch. She howled in agony from a terrible sensation that she had never felt and clawed desperately at the hands holding her still. It was useless, but he gave her credit for trying, "Shhh, please be quiet... Accept your punishment, accept the will of God!" He didn't believe a single bit of the crap that poured from his own mouth, but it was so much fun to say, "Only in this pain. He pressed harder, feeling his thumbs scrape against the bone of her skull, "Will you find your..." Her body began to go limp as the life slowly drained from her body,

Salvation..."

While Elijah wanted nothing more than continue with the woman for just a little longer, he soon began to realize that he wasn't exactly safe in this new place. In the distance he heard grumbles and muffled roars growing louder and louder as the time crept by, showing that he wasn't the only being to exist in this realm. The young man cursed himself for his stupidity and looked around for a place to hide or escape to. While he had enough energy to effortlessly crush the average human, he hadn't a clue what his newfound strength would do against something that was meant to live in such a harsh environment and, quite frankly, he didn't plan on finding out.

"I'm not safe here... And if whatever is coming in my direction can detect blood, I will be in more than just a little trouble... Thinking quickly, Elijah pulled off his shirt and tried his hardest to wipe up as much of the excess as possible before he cast it aside and ducked behind a boulder, waiting for his chance to either escape or catch whatever it (or they) was by surprise.

"I'm not safe here... And if whatever is coming in my direction can detect blood, I will be in more than just a little trouble..."

The skeptical murmur, inaudible to the boy below, came out ever so gently with the driest tones hanging over it. "No, you're not." For a while now, in the distance on the chasm, the white-haired man in the longcoat had been sat idly picking at a small bit of meat stuck between his upper-right canine and his incisor. Every time, the tiniest of gaps there seemed to catch a piece of meat whenever he was feasting, snatching it up and entrapping it within. It was positively irritating above all else. "And yes, you will."

From a short distance away, he had been watching and pursuing the little man with all his movements for the past few minutes. Young, this one was; still wet behind the ears. Not quite an infant like some of the others he'd bumped into, but a child in time all the same. His traversal of the words had been simple - after such a time studying the shadowy group Demon as a comrade, moving undetected was something of an ease for him, and, plus, it had be fun to see what this one would do specifically. The man with the white hair had seen his passenger from the moment he'd appeared - and not really moved from this spot on the highway.

Beyond the fabric of his realm, the man with white hair had been studying the boy's movements meticulously on and off for the past few weeks, and specifically for the past couple of hours, just to see what the newfound Hunter left in his wake. Devastation - typically sadness, too. He wasn't like the others. He came here not to liberate, but to destroy. And to the man in white; this was no offence, but rather more of a fascination to him. "Hrm."

With that, he pushed himself from the small mound of rubble further into a leap, legs forward and projecting himself swiftly through the air like a white-tipped arrow, reaching inhuman heights as he sprung upwards and let himself fall, pouncing like some grand unnatural predator. Of course, in this realm, he was the predator. In a space of a few seconds, he cleared the two or so hundred metres between himself and the boy, and landed barely ten behind him as if what he'd done was no small feet. Slowly, he rose back up and rotated his elbows with an open mouth, sighing visibly and shaking his head from side to side, most likely having alerted anyone perceptive in the general vicinity. Most specifically, the boy. "By the Spire does it ache when I do that."

The man in white lifted his ankles and spun them a little too. "Took me a good few million years to perfect the landings for those. Not quite as seamless as they look." The man in white commented, finally adjusting his posture and sighing proper. "If you're so much as a fraction of an angle off, you can say goodbye to your ankles." And, well, in his case, regrow them a few moments later. No big deal.

The murmurings and roarings swirling in the valleys of the chasm around and below the tarmac of the interstate proper had been swelling and growing for some time, peaking into almost calamitous and foreshadowing growls, guttural and grotesque imitations of animalistic sounds reverberating all around as the man opened his mouth to speak once more, before pausing, tilting his head, and looking from side to side. "Will you all shut up!?" He spoke sternly, his tones carrying more weight than one could fully interpret.

Almost immediately, the voices dimmed, lowered, and as if those which they belonged to had been maimed or hurt, seemed almost pained and wincing. Moments later, they disappeared completely. "Thank you. By the Antichrist, can't get any peace in this damned place anymore." Choice of words oddly appropriate. The man shook his head and looked back to the boy with a sigh. "I remember the days when we didn't know what the term 'feral Demon' meant. Each little specimen, from teensy little Shades all the way up to those big Frost Giant things was completely subservient. None of this growling bullshit." The man with white hair shrugged and shook his head in seeming exasperation once more.

Of course. He'd forgotten. "Where are my manners?" Extending his hand, he smiled with impossible pleasantry in his grin at the dark-haired boy, tones on his head a stark contrast to his own bleached, white, and well-maintained mop. "Call me Lou." Something was off about this. This guy was way too friendly, way too quickly, and there was just something that didn't sit right about everything he said. "Good to see some new faces in this boring place after too long, Mister...?"

As the seconds crept by and the noises grew louder, Elijah felt his blood begin to boil rather than freeze. They were coming from each direction, closing in on him and primed to rip the young man to shreds. It was... Exhilarating to say the least. There were too many, far too many for him to fight alone but he didn't plan on sitting there behind a rock and wait for them to arrive. If the creatures wanted a meal, they were going to have to work for him. Elijah took one final breath before standing and stepped out from his impromptu cover, arms spread wide, "Come on, motherfuckers!" He screamed, spinning around in order to spread his voice around, "I'm dead if I stay and dead if I try to go, so if you want me you're going to have to try your best."

Elijah could feel his heart beginning to pump faster as the sounds began to grow even louder, he even began to notice more changes in his body when the adrenaline began to flow. It was the human body's natural response when their life was in danger. Fight or flight. Unfortunately, those options had the same outcome. The man knew this, but he was much too late to change his mind. To an outsider, it would seem that Elijah was prepared to accept his impending death but it was all a front, a game, a way of keeping himself motivated enough to stand. If not for that singular will to live, he would simply let them fall on him, "I'm not going to die..." He could feel the earth(?) begin to tremble beneath his feet, "I'm not going to die..." The noises surrounding grew closer, "I'm not go-"

SLAM!

Elijah whirled around to see what had landed so heavily behind him and leaped forward to close the distance between them without thinking, his fists primed to attack when the man before him spoke. The sudden shift in attitude made Elijah hesitate for a moment before completing his action and slid to a stop,

"Took me a good few million years to perfect the landings for those. Not quite as seamless as they look."

Wait a second, did he hear that right? A good few million years... Good... Few... Million? It was a shocking thing to hear, and his confusion began to show. Elijah furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak, but the strange man cut him off once again, If you're so much as a fraction of an angle off, you can say goodbye to your ankles. Once again, Elijah was confused and unsure what to say to do, "What in the he-"

"Will you all shut up!?"

Then all at once, each beast in the chasm was silent. It was obvious that the man before him wasn't exactly a 'man' in the human sense of the word. He was a monster among monsters. Sadly, Elijah was too infuriated about being cut off for the second time. The first was un-intentional and while annoying, it was forgivable. But the this time? Too perfect to be accidental,

"Why is it that you INSIST on cutting-"

"Thank you. By the Antichrist, can't get any peace in this damned place anymore."

Instead of attempting to get another word out, Elijah simply waited for the man to finish what he was doing. He complained about the 'days' when demons had some form of class or decorum, or whatever... Elijah didn't really care about any of that. It was none of his concern, "Where are my manners?" The young man managed to stifle his laugh at the absurdity of the situation and took the hand that was offered to him, gripping it firmly, "Call me Lou."

It was strange, everything was strange. The situation, the people, the exchanging of pleasantries? A moment ago, Elijah was on hair's breadth from death, then he murdered three people, then he was prepared to fight for his life and here he was shaking hands with what seemed to be a man dressed much too well for a place such as this. He looked so prim and proper compared to the wasteland surrounding the both of them. The way they contrasted was strange, too. While Lou was dressed like a gentleman, Elijah looked like a savage, his shirt gone, and his upper body was caked in dry blood.

Good to see some new faces in this boring place after too long, Mister...? The man said, prompting a strangely happy smile from Elijah, "Elijah... Elijah Cross." With that, he retracted his hand and ran his tongue across the front of his teeth to lap up the excess blood and turned his head, spitting it in the dirt, "As far as I can tell, you seem like an important person. At a single word, every creature here ceased their growls and shouting." He paused and thought for a moment, peering around with his eyes only as a feeling of unrest began to grow within him. Elijah found himself unconsciously sliding his thumbs against his index fingers, thinking But he didn't tell them to stop coming after me... I need to keep my guard up.

"So what brings you here?"

"Elijah... Elijah Cross." Of course. Mr. Cross. Had been a while, hadn't it? Lou still remembered the first time that he'd seen the boy. Of course, that rang true for many an individual. Seven billion years, immortality, and pseudo-omnipresence got boring after a while, so he had taken to indulging himself in the lives of others. The man bowed his head ever-so-slightly and made a gentle hum at the bottom of his throat.

"Of course you are." Lou murmured, looking from side to side once more, as he took one hand, and clasped it in the other behind his back, indicating the supposed ease in his stance. With a peer over Elijah's shoulder, the man in white analytically scanned the dead woman up and down - making no attempt to hide it from her assailant - and hummed at the end of it, resigning to deal with that later.

"As far as I can tell, you seem like an important person. At a single word, every creature here ceased their growls and shouting." Lou nodded. Astute one, wasn't he? The man in white retracted his hand, as did Elijah, and watched coldly with those pale blue eyes as he spat a bloody globule of saliva and haemoglobin down into the dirt. A moment later, the boy continued. The man in white met his gaze once more. "So what brings you here?"

Lou smiled. "This and that. The usual business." He flippantly deflected the question with a wave of his hand, before peering over Elijah's shoulder once more, tutting patronisingly as he regarded the corpse. "Your handiwork, I presume?" Raising a gloved, black hand, he gestured at the body. "Mind if I take a peek?" The request was only as a courtesy. Moments later, the man in the coat skirted around and crouched next to the bloody, eyeless corpse.

Pressing his index finger against the neck, the blood slowly crusting and drying over pale skin, Lou smiled and squinted, letting his lids fall shut drearily. "Ah. Brilliant. She's on her way here." The white-haired man sighed, retracting his hand and standing back up, dusting off his gloves. "Wrong place, wrong time, and though she was murdered, her original motive was revenge." With a head-nod up to the sky, the man in black continued. "Man upstairs doesn't like that." No, not one bit...

With that, he skirted back around, and paused halfway, taking another apprehensive, surveying glance of the shirtless Elijah. "You, on the other hand, are far more interesting." He was... he certainly was. He belonged downstairs with the rest of them, but his time hadn't yet expired. Interesting,. "Breaking the social norm leading to estrangement leading to further sociopathic nature..." Lou shrugged. "Vicious circle." But the religious motif was particularly interesting.

"Tell me, Elijah," Lou asked, with an inquisitive undertone on his voice. "Why do you tell your victims that you're an angel?" With a step forward, the man with white hair cared not for what he trod on underfoot - specifically the thigh-bone of the same felled woman, the third of Elijah's prey. Within a moment, it splintered and flattened with a squelch beneath the man's step. "Is it some deluded misguidance that you love to appease?" He scanned the reactions in the boy's face. No, that wasn't it... "Or do you just get a rush out of making a mockery of religion?" If that was the case... well, that made two of them, eh?

This one was certainly more interesting than the last Hunter he'd happened upon. Dormant abilities - and already he was proving more of an entertainment than anything he'd seen in a good few years. So many of the other Hunters were lead here, obligated on - ugh - morals. They were so boring, so black and white, so simple. But he? What would he use his abilities to do, Lou wondered? Would it bring him a sense of release in his sadistic, bloody desires? Or would he simply... conform over time, and lash out at the Demon kin too?

"Of course you are."

It took quite a bit to make a man like Elijah uneasy, but Lou seemed to know exactly how his buttons worked. A complete stranger already claiming to know who he was. Any other time, he would question the man further in order to get a little more out. However he knew that doing so wouldn't get him anywhere at all. The man that stood before him clasped his hands behind his back and leaned to the side, scanning the carnage that Elijah left earlier. When questioned about his reason for being in the area, Lou simply avoided the question in the same way Elijah would when asked the same thing, "Your handiwork, I presume?"

Elijah chuckled lightly,"What gave it away?" It seemed that Lou wasn't the only one of the pair capable of giving smart remarks. Then again, it wasn't exactly smart of Elijah to open his mouth in such a way. That was always a handicap of his, not thinking ahead. And it got him into situations where talking wouldn't help. The young man watched patiently as Lou strode past him and a corpse, one that belonged to the woman he had killed just minutes earlier. The fact that Lou was 'admiring' the corpse wasn't too unsettling. But what he said afterword was enough to make Elijah's blood freeze,

"...She's on her way here."... She's on her way here? That didn't make any sense, she was dead. Killed. Elijah felt the life leave her body, watched her go limp. That woman wasn't going anywhere... Wait... Elijah furrowed his brow and thought for a moment, his eyes widening as Lou began to speak again, "Her original motive was revenge. Man upstairs doesn't like that." The man was right, but something didn't exactly make sense. How could he know so much about the circumstances surrounding the three deaths AND where exactly Elijah was when he entered this new world. It took a little time, but Elijah soon began to piece everything he knew together.

He waited patiently while Lou examined him even further, speaking as he did so. The man must have been watching him for quite some time... He knew far too much for the average passerby. There was the possibility of the other man being a stalker, but that was too silly. The average stalker couldn't pass into other dimensions, "Tell me, Elijah," Elijah snapped himself from his own mind and looked Lou in his cold blue eyes, "Why do you tell your victims that you're an angel? Is it some deluded misguidance that you love to appease?" Before he could answer, Lou seemed to examine Elijah's face and changed his question, "Or do you just get a rush out of making a mockery of religion?"

Elijah wasn't exactly the easiest person in the world to read, and it showed. While Lou was able to glean into the basics of how his mind worked, it was a little more complex than the simple mockery of a person's beliefs, "You're right... Well, halfway right anyway." He said, turning his back to the man and taking a few steps over to the woman's corpse. He kneeled down and took her head in his hands similar to how he did earlier while she still drew breath, "It's about the power that religion holds over a person. People listen to a man that claims to be an instrument of God's will, even if he belongs in an asylum rather than a position of importance in clergy. Humans blindly follow, refusing to question what they're told out of fear. A fear of God... A fear of the Devil, a fear of Hell. But most of all, a fear of insecurity. Religion makes people feel secure..." He tucked a stray lock of the woman's hair behind her ear and smiled before continuing, " A man can be tortured for days, but have no fear because his God will reward his pain in heaven. But when he, or in this case 'she', is told that her god was the reason for her suffering? It breaks her. And that brief moment, that TRUE moment of genuine fear..." He released her head and turned to face Lou once again, "... Is the reason I call myself an angel." Elijah smiled and laughed, "Is that an acceptable answer, Lou?"

Wait... That woman's reward for murder motivated by revenge would be hell. And he just told me that she would be joining them here soon... I'm IN hell? And Lou... Lucifer... This man before me is the Devil himself.

"You're right... Well, halfway right anyway." Oh, that was funny! Halfway right? In his own realm, of his own accord, with his own all-knowing, Lou was simply half-right? No, infact, he was right; just as right as Elijah was - for in this circumstance, it can only be but opinion and conjecture, and what is one's personal conclusion on things but the byproducts of pesky human neurotransmitters and firing synapses? Only in death can one become a truly true individual. Death. When the soul manifests into a representation. And that was partially why he was considering executing the good Mr. Cross on the spot. Out of simple curiosity for what HIS soul would manifest into.

Though, that said, he was being far too engaging at the current moment. "It's about the power that religion holds over a person. People listen to a man that claims to be an instrument of God's will, even if he belongs in an asylum rather than a position of importance in clergy. Humans blindly follow, refusing to question what they're told out of fear." PFFHAHA! Now that was rich. People listened to an instrument of God's will? No. No, no, no, they didn't. People were unenlightened sheep. Sheep need a control mechanism. "A fear of God..." Eh, overrated. "A fear of the Devil, a fear of Hell." Now THAT was on the right track.

"Religion makes people feel secure..." He did have a point. Religion was what was turned to in an individual's hour of need. But the truth of the matter was still a problem. "A man can be tortured for days, but have no fear because his God will reward his pain in heaven. But when he, or in this case 'she', is told that her god was the reason for her suffering? It breaks her. And that brief moment, that TRUE moment of genuine fear..." Lou's expression didn't change throughout his reception of that entire factoid. Huh. Interesting indeed. Spiel almost complete? "...is the reason I call myself an angel." The laugh would have dissuaded some, but not him. "Is that an acceptable answer, Lou?"

"You're a scholar and a gentleman, Mr. Cross, but I'm afraid I'm not appeased by such a simplistic response." The sigh came and Lou shook a head of white hair. "Religion's a control mechanism, sure, but God as an aspirational tool?" The black-clad man scoffed into a half-laugh, and shook his head incredulously. "You contradicted your own statements, my friend. Religion is controlled by fear." And that's when the grin stretched onto his face.

"You don't fear your boss because he makes more money than you. You fear him because he has the authority to fire you." Lou moved ever-closer, smiling with tapered canines at Elijah, almost perfectly. "You don't fear an enemy soldier because he defends his country. You fear him because he has the equipment and ability to shoot you." The man in black began to circle, stepping in rhythmic motion around the topless, blood-coated maniac. The run of the mill sociopath. Your everyday serial killer. But with a zesty twist of intelligence. Refreshing at the very least. "You don't fear God because he grants you passage into Heaven." The circling finally stopped. Lou aligned himself perfectly dead-on with Elijah. The smile widened to a grin. "You fear God... because he can send you to Hell."

Slowly, Lou took a step forward. "People don't fear Heaven and Angels. Their ideals being crushed? Imagery re-associated? That may... motivate them, but it won't make them truly know what it is to fear, at the very core of their being." The black coat pulled tighter around him as the winds of the Chasm began to swirl around the pair once more, the white-haired man sighed. "People fear Demons. And for a good fucking reason. Take it on my authority that they're a Hell of a lot scarier." Oh, by the Spire, was that a bad pun.

"And before you start asking me who I am and how I know this in such an absolute and grand manner..." His voice began to rise. Weight and emphasis returning once more. A grandiose backdrop behind it. Smooth, interwoven in just the right places; but deadly unsettling at the same time. Almost perfect, but that sliver of error was one that raised all the red flags. "There's really no need." The grin widened. Something waiting, something hungry stretched in those pale azure irises, cold and wet, set equidistant upon Lou's head. "Look inside yourself for the answer. Align your facts together, Mr. Cross. For you already know who I am."

The Devil's reputation preceded himself. "The D word."

Despite everything Elijah had said, Lou's face remained the same. Cold, emotionless and calculating. He analyzed every word the young hunter had and for each point, there was a counterpoint. There was no reasoning, no debating... According to Lou, Elijah couldn't possibly comprehend everything in the world. While not explicitly stated, his scoffing was enough to create such a thought.

"You're a scholar and a gentleman, Mr. Cross, but I'm afraid I'm not appeased by such a simplistic response." Simplistic? Now that was something to scoff at. The response was automatic, reflexive, something he couldn't control if his life were at stake. And when it came to a man(?) such as the one before him, Elijah needed to suppress himself as much as possible lest to avoid unnecessary offense, "You contradicted your own statements, my friend. Religion is controlled by fear." Contradicted? No, no that couldn't be right. Elijah knew that his logic was flawless, it had to be. The thoughts came from his mind, after all. He was always right.

A sinister grin spread across Lou's face as he continued his speech, attempting to tell Elijah what he feared and didn't fear. This man didn't know him, he didn't know anything! Who in the HELL was he to try and decipher anyone. Each word he spoke, each sound that spilled from his damned mouth was infuriating. Nobody understood Elijah, nobody could possibly glean into his mind like that. He was different, special... He was better than everyone, "You don't fear your boss because he makes more money than you. You fear him because he has the authority to fire you." Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong. Lou was wrong. Elijah didn't fear anything, anyone! At least he told himself such. But he was definitely afraid of the person advancing upon him, the sinister grin enough to drain the color right from his face. For the first time in he life, Elijah felt like the prey. He was out of his element, exposed on all sides and being circled by something that wanted nothing more than to take small pieces of him until there was nothing left.

"You don't fear God because he grants you passage into Heaven." Lou stopped walking around Elijah and ended his circle right were he started, staring him directly in the eyes. Elijah didn't think it was possible, but the man's grin seemed to widen. It was amazing how Elijah's confidence slowly faded as the speech grew longer and more true. He felt uneasy, nervous... Despite how he tried to suppress the feelings, they began to give physical symptoms, "You fear God... because he can send you to Hell."

Lou's speech continued for what felt like days, his cold blue eyes locked directly at Elijah. He tried desperately to turn his head or focus on something else, but the man couldn't. He was locked in place by it, trapped, entranced. Almost hypnotized, "People fear Demons. And for a good fucking reason. Take it on my authority that they're a Hell of a lot scarier."

'Then why do the demons hide here if they're so fucking scary?" He shouted, breaking himself from the trance like state he began to fall into, "What are THEY afraid of? Is it God? Hell, if I were them I'd be afraid of him too." Elijah needed to stop, but he couldn't keep his mouth from running. He was struggling to keep his composure, but he could feel the cold sweat beginning to roll down his body, "Because he was the only thing capable of casting their king into the depths."

"Look inside yourself for the answer. Align your facts together, Mr. Cross. For you already know who I am. The D word."

Instantly, Elijah was overcome by a feeling of dread. He was staring into the eyes of HIM. The Devil, Satan, The Father of Lies, the first real murderer... Elijah knew this, yet he still opened his damned mouth to talk back to him, "T-the... Devil..." Elijah should have known better. Hell, he DID know but wouldn't just accept it. He took a hesitant step back and looked at his hand, the one he used to shake with Lou, well... Lucifer, just to ensure that it wasn't crumbling away.

After years of the people he encountered calling Elijah the devil, he was standing directly opposite of the true thing...

And he was afraid.

'Then why do the demons hide here if they're so fucking scary?" The boy was far more off the mark than he'd never understood. Lou - no, Lucifer - smiled and tilted his head in a gentle inclination for a response. The reality was a far darker, far more harrowing truth, and one that he would enlighten Elijah to. For he had been one of the chosen, and in his bloodline ran the innermost workings of the original Hunters - but he had made the decision to unwittingly forsake his holy heritage.

"They don't." The fallen angel stated oh-so-bluntly. "They're waiting for me to tell them to attack." And that was the truth, plain and simple, black and white. No matter who you were before you fell, and whether you could speak or not, every Demon, sentient or insentient, knew of the Archdemons. And then, the single higher authority above them all. Whether they fell into the Hell Princes' legion or not, they knew of their Overlord. The Fallen First. Mephistopheles. Lucifer. The Devil.

"What are THEY afraid of? Is it God? Hell, if I were them I'd be afraid of him too." What are they afraid of? What are Demons, the avatars of hatred and anger, afraid of? Simply put? Nothing. But the real answer was a lot more complicated than that. Lucifer smirked, and shook his head. There was one overarching term. One umbrella that the fear of all Demons fell beneath. For Lucifer was not a fair and just democratic leader; no, he was a tyrant and a dictator, but that was what gave him the most fun and the most challenge. Survival of the fittest, suitably Biblical in his mind. "Because he was the only thing capable of casting their king into the depths."

Lucifer arched a slender, tapered eyebrow. That was an... interesting way he'd heard himself described. Within ancient infernos blazed furiously as he considered the articles of his revenge, but this boy was no more than a fragment of a pawn. Not so much as gamechanging - he mattered not in the big picture. It would take far more than that to evoke the true irascible wrath of the Devil himself. Ironically. "They are afraid of no God." The Angel of Pride spoke in the deepest growl he could, opening his arms in the most grandiose of fashion as he locked pale blue orbs with Elijah's eyes, sharp and perfect in their transcience. "Do you know who Niccolo Machiavelli is, Elijah?" Satan grinned. "Italian writer of the fifteen century. The Prince." With that, he stepped forwards and wrapped a hand clad in black leather around the tanned chin of the blood-streaked killer. "Let's just say that I was more than inspirational for the origin of that text." The growl rolled out from the Devil's tongue as he continued. "Everything within this Chasm belongs to me. Everything these lands belong to me." A shrug and a sly smirk. "Demons fear no God. They fear their leader for what they know of him and what they know he can do." A pause. "They fear their Devil."

There was no aggression in his growl, simply smooth and prompting a response from the child as he eased off from Elijah and backpedaled as everything rolled into place within the young man's mind. Something on that olive-brushed pallor cracked and even the sociopath showed so much as a glint of fear. That preservation of composure, that emotional facade - it was good, and had served the young Master Cross well up to this point, but Lucifer was afraid that even behind a disguise which fooled humans alike, the psychopath's transparency was very much visible to him. "T-the... Devil..."

"Bingo." And now came the reasoning for just why. For millennia Satan himself had been revered as an avatar and an epitome for pride and as the origin of all sin. The first iota of pride itself, the only known genesis of hubris, had stemmed within his body. He was the beginning of all sin, fashioned in God's image as his first true child, and his one and only favourite. He was every imperfection of humanity, every doubt, every sliver, every crack in an image on the mirror. The pin on the step. The thorn in your side. A trembling pain. A sudden shock. The essence of life fading away from your body as you lapsed from one life into another eternal existence, be it of pain or of pleasure. He was the First. "And now you know, Elijah. You know why the Chasm fell silent on my signal, why there's been a cold feeling surrounding you that you just can't shake ever since I've arrived, and why I seem to know so much, ambiguous or not, about the heavens above and this world below." With that, he widened his smile so it cut across his face. Not of malice, not of sadism, not of horror; but instead a smile of forced epiphany. "I am the Devil, Elijah Cross. And this is my Hell."

"Do you know who Niccolo Machiavelli is, Elijah?" It was a silly thing to ask, a question like that. The time for idle conversation had passed. Elijah was sick and tired of being talked down to, looked upon with those pale blue eyes. He felt like the narrator of 'The Telltale Heart', wanting no more than to pluck the eagle eyes right from the Devil's head. But he didn't dare try... It would be the biggest mistake of his life short of putting a loaded gun to his head and pulling the trigger. His life would end either way, but what the Devil had in store for him would be thousands of times worse. He'd probably make Elijah wish he had a gun to kill himself with.

Rather than entertain Lucifer by answering his question, he simply stayed silent. And, as expected, he continued to speak. For the love of GOD he must have enjoyed the sound of his own voice. Then again, he was the creator of hubris. So it wasn't too surprising. Elijah turned his head away from the man before him in an attempt at defiance, but Lucifer wasn't going to have any of that. A gloved hand quickly grabbed Elijah by the chin, forcing his head back in Lucifer's direction. Without thinking, the young man clenched his fists and jerked his head backward, his right hand reaching up to swipe Lou's away, "Don't touch me." He said, taking a step back,

"Everything within this Chasm belongs to me. Everything these lands belong to me." He paused, "They fear their Devil." There was a growl to his voice, smooth rather than aggressive. How long did Lucifer plan on toying with the fledgling Devil Hunter? Did he plan on letting him go after everything was said and done? Was Elijah going to die in this place? No... No, no, no. Not today, he wasn't going to die here. If Lucifer wanted him dead, he would be dead. The anticipation, the worry, the fear... It was all beginning to creep into his mind even deeper no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

""And now you know, Elijah. You know why the Chasm fell silent on my signal, why there's been a cold feeling surrounding you that you just can't shake ever since I've arrived, and why I seem to know so much, ambiguous or not, about the heavens above and this world below." Once again, the serpent's smile grew even wider, threatening to tear his lips apart, "I am the Devil, Elijah Cross. And this is my Hell."

Elijah winced when he heard his name exit the Devil's mouth and could feel warm blood seeping from where the nails dug into his palms, "You're repeating yourself, Lou." He said, unclenching his fists and watching as his hands began to glow a bright red, "Then again, the father of hubris must enjoy hearing the sound of his own name." Elijah was trying his best to put up another show of confidence, but Lucifer could probably see right through the facade, "And as much as I love to hear it to, I think it's time for me to go home. Any problems with that?"

(This one's kinda lame, sorry.)

"Don't touch me." The boy got testy and sassy the moment Lucifer so much as laid a hand on him. Did he not know that there were thousands out there in a world beyond that would trade limbs or parts of their very soul just to hear the Devil's voice, let alone feel his ice-cold vice-grip around their body? Such a pitiful existence. For really, what was the sociopath at his basest level, true colours showing through here, save for a whiny, spoiled brat, who knew as much as every other child, observant or not, with twenty-something years of experience behind them. "You're repeating yourself, Lou."

"Then again, the father of hubris must enjoy hearing the sound of his own name." The sly and "apparent" confidence was fooling no-one. The facade had already cracked but for being bent and strained beneath the fallen angel's grip, and a return to composure so swiftly? It was impossible. At least for humans, he had concluded. Their disguises were so pitiful, their masques so frail, cracking after but a moment; and though he was prejudiced against the second kind for being "modeled" in his own creator's image, his prejudice was justified. Humans lived one hundred years. He was immortal. They were fickle, violent, spontaneous beings - and such an amateur of a child knew naught of hiding the true purpose of a gambit from the so-called master tactician of Hell itself. "And as much as I love to hear it to, I think it's time for me to go home. Any problems with that?"

And with that, Lucifer darted forwards. He held his body back with as much poise and control as possible, but let his head push past the threshold and hover over the boy's shoulder, curling up into a contemptuous smirk as he hissed out a last passive threat. "If I didn't want you to go home, Elijah..." That solitary smile twisted up at the other end of its own accord as something truly mad, something truly tyrannical, something truly proud sparkled in those cerulean oases. "...you would already be dead."

With that, the Devil took a step away. Once more he backpedaled away from Elijah and the torn and shredded bodies of the three he had felled, his bloody quarry, with that same haughty smirk upon his face. "Arrivederci, adios, auf wiedersehen, and au revoir, Master Cross." As he neared the hard shoulder of the hellish interstate he made no signs of stopping, and an individual of lesser logic would point out that he were about to back into a thick wall of concrete, riddled with crags as it was. But the killer had truly gathered by now that there was more to this man than met the eye.

"Farewell, and I'd say it's been a pleasure..." In the middle of his reversing, the blue-eyed Devil stopped abruptly and looked off into the distance pensively, before letting his gaze fall on the murderer's once more. "...but I really think it's been more entertainment for me, and a test of fortitude for you." With a subtle hop, he leapt upwards, and forced himself back down at the exactly optimal time, landing without so much as a shock through his mortal form upon the top of the concrete barrier. And in that split-second before it all, before the Devil disappeared, his pale blue eyes narrowed to barely slits and he locked gazes with the killer once more. And in that moment, all the fires of Hell could be seen to swirl in an unthinkably azure vortex around pupils that furrowed as deep as the void itself. "Until we meet again, Elijah."

And with that, Lucifer pushed himself backwards and fell.

Much like his original descent from Heaven to Hell, any fall of this gravity was something utterly familiar to Lucifer. It wracked his form, be it true or mortal, and sent a sensation through every bone, through every ounce of flesh, pound of sinew, tendon, ligament... through the very essence of his being. But it was not a sensation he associated with fear or hatred, nor of anger; infact, falling gave the angel a sense of familiarity. Ironically, a sense of... grounding. It was soothing. To be truly at one with but the air around you and nothing else.

But all falls end one way or another. And in mid-air, as white turned to black and a coat unraveled and reached out, shedding a sheen of charcoal feathers to drift down below into the gaping flatplains of the Chasm lands proper, wings sprouted from the Devil's back: and he took on for the first time since his meeting Mr. Cross his true form. And with a screech through the sky, he flattened out into a hover, and launched himself off into a bloody horizon. A Demon... with wings of a seraph. For what had the Devil been before he was the Devil...

...but a fallen angel.

As of on cue, Lucifer dashed in Elijah's direction. The sudden movement made the young man lock up and clamp his eyes shut, waiting for death. Then again, he could already be dead. Did the Devil simply tear the soul from his body and cast him into darkness? No, that couldn't have been it. There wasn't a hand raised or hostile look in his eyes, "If I didn't want you to go home, Elijah..." So he wasn't dead after all. While that thought brought him some form of relief, Lucifer's cold voice was enough to suck it all away, "...you would already be dead."

Just when he finished speaking, Elijah slowly opened eyes to see Lucifer taking a few steps back with his all to familiar smile. The one that taunted him, full of pride and self importance. It was a simply infuriating sight and the only thing that made it worse was the fact that Elijah could do absolutely nothing about it. He was powerless, weak, not even a blip on Satan's radar. Elijah Cross, the self-proclaimed "Angel" was nothing. Elijah watched with narrowed eyes at Satan who was looking off into the distance before he graced the murderer with his gaze, "Farewell, and I'd say it's been a pleasure..."

Again with the pleasantries... They were past that point already, but Elijah simply smiled to hide his spite. Their conversation quickly went from idle chatter to threats back and forth as if the two were playing verbal tennis. But it was that mix of 'kindness' and animosity that made the encounter so... Terrifying.

"...but I really think it's been more entertainment for me, and a test of fortitude for you." The Devil leaped high into the air above Elijah and landed gracefully on the top of a barrier before, once again, he looked to Elijah through his narrowed eyes. It was truly a sight to see, the devil and what power he held. If only Elijah wasn't on the receiving end of it all. Suddenly there was a giant swirl of blue flame that seemed to engulf Lucifer's body. And in one final show of dominance he said, "Until we meet again, Elijah."

As Lucifer fell from view, Elijah felt the adrenaline and energy in his body begin to fade. He felt sluggish, heavy... Empty. There was no fight left. Just as his legs gave way to the weight above them and caused Elijah to fall to his knees, he heard the monsters from before beginning to roar once again. Their master was gone, they could have him. Elijah heard their footsteps, heard them clamoring over one another. He felt the ground shake violently as they advanced. But just as he caught a glimpse of his impending demise, his eyelids closed and he fell forward. And right when his head hit the ground with a sickening

THUD!

Elijah was right back to where it all started...

The cold, dark alleyway.