The Road Home (Open)

January 14th, 2012. 3:35 AM.

"Until we meet again, Elijah..."

The all too familiar sound of Lucifer's voice continued to ring in Elijah's ears as he slowly regained consciousness. His head pounded mercilessly, his eyes ached and his body felt like it was put through the wringer. A deep hiss of agony escaped through clenched teeth as he made an attempt to press himself up from the prone position he was left in, but the blood caked on the right side of his face acted like an adhesive, especially where there was an open cut. Rather than go slowly and risk the pain lasting any longer than necessary, he treated the situation as if he were removing a band-aid, "Okay... Calm down, this won't hurt a bit." It was an obvious lie meant to bring him a small form of comfort before he forced himself up, ripping the cuts on his face and forehead open once again. While it wasn't as bad as he thought, the open air stung at the injuries and Elijah pressed his hands to them in order to stop the bleeding as best as he could. He was still much too weak to stand on his own and supported himself on the nearest wall, "My shirt's missing..."

There was a sudden sharp pain when he thought about what could have happened to his clothing, revealing flashes of the prior events, "Wait, no... That doesn't make any sense. He remembered everything... The final punch, the transfer into the other world, the power he felt... The feeling of his power being dwarfed by the Devil himself... Elijah shook the thoughts right out of his head and brought his hands from his wounds to wipe his eyes and clear his blurred vision. Unfortunately it produced the opposite result. He clamped his eyes shut and hissed loudly at the stinging sensation before he looked to his stained hands, "Blood... Old blood." He paused a moment to take a peek at his surroundings. There were so signs of anyone but him receiving a beating, so the blood on his hands couldn't belong to anyone else. That punch knocked him out, he was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. God, the Devil, Demons, Angels, none of it was real. He just enjoyed 'blaspheming'.

It took him a moment to notice, but his shoes and socks were missing. He didn't have anything to do with the removal of those in his dream, "I must have been robbed after getting knocked out..." With a grimace, he forced himself to his feet and limped his way to the empty street, squinting as he was blinded by a streetlight, "Anything makes more sense than a trip to hell and back."

While it didn't occur to him until he saw his reflection in a pane of glass, Elijah was quite fortunate to wake up so early in the morning. There weren't many people out and those that were wanted nothing to do with him. They didn't pry, didn't question. If anything they were too busy with their own activities, "I need to find my way home again..." He said, drawing a deep breath and running a hand through his sticky hair, "Hopefully before someone calls the police or an ambulance.

For every man, there is a boy to be seen rising among the ranks. A threat to their power. A battle for control over not only the minds of their victims they seek, but also the minds of an entire populace. If Dusty was the child in this case, Elijah was the man. Two killers, each with their own motives and style of killing. Each of them merciless.

Dusty Killum, however, had no idea who this shirtless man was laying in the alleyway. He merely watched him as he awoke, peeking from the top of the building. A small smile was pressed against his lips as his eyes never left the stranger. Oh, how much fun he could have with this odd man! He felt the urge to giggle, but kept himself calm. A servant of Lucifer should always remain calm when on their mission in the world. To observe was to gain knowledge, and knowledge was power.

"He just came back from there." The voice rang loud and clear within the boy's mind, but not to anyone else. "From the land of our high king. Inferis." It was the voice of an elderly man, and one Dusty knew and loved. He loved his grandfather so much that he let him live inside of him!

"He looks pretty beat up already, Gramps. You sure we should be following this guy?" There was no response in his mind, so Dusty simply looked back down to his target. He wouldn't get anywhere asking questions, he could only grow stronger if he did as he was told. There was no doubt in his mind that if his grandfather said to follow this stranger, nothing but good could come of it. So, breath still, body the same, he continued to stalk his prey, inching around the top of the building. Ever silent, ever watching, his grip tightened around his bat. He wouldn't strike, not so soon, but it was good to feel prepared.

A cold breeze passed through the empty alley that Elijah walked through, shocking his system and sending a shiver throughout his entire body. To cope for the exposure, he folded his arms over his chest and briskly rubbed his shoulders. It was only then when he noticed the puffs of freezing water vapor in his breath, "Well it's still January after all... At least whoever robbed me didn't take everything I had..." He paused to pat himself down and released a sigh of relief when he found the familiar bulge of the balisong knives in each pocket. Either the person who took his clothes was too dumb to search for his other things, or they simply weren't interested in what else he had. It was a good thing, though. Elijah's knives were extremely expensive.

As time went by, Elijah's extremities slowly began to go numb. It started with his toes, but eventually crept along his feet and made them much more sensitive. The rough ground covered with God knows what didn't help either. The worst part about it was he simply wouldn't know if he cut himself or not. And the last thing he wanted to deal with was an infection,

"If I didn't want you to leave... You would be dead."

Once again, that voice crept its way into his head followed by the same feeling of dread that he felt when faced with the Devil. Elijah wasn't sure why he felt that way... It was a dream... It HAD to be a dream. God wasn't real. If he was, they he'd never allow beings like Elijah to exist in his perfect little world. The more he thought about it, a smile would spread across his face, "What kind of crap have I spurred myself into believing?" He said, speaking to the empty air, "The Devil, Satan, Lucifer. If I had really met him, I wouldn't be standing here. I'd be dead and in hell."

Elijah laughed lightly and spread his arms out wide like he did in his dream(?), "If the Devil truly exist, may one of his disciples descend upon me and end my life!" It was a ridiculous jest, but its purpose was to simply provide himself with a bit of entertainment. After a brief moment of silence, he cupped a hand over his ear as if listening and said, "Guess that answers that, huh?"

The strange man continued to walk along the street, and Dusty inched along the top of the building he had climbed up only minutes earlier. He must have been cold, it was awfully chilly out. Still, the child couldn't quite understand what he'd been doing in that alleyway to begin with. It was so early for people to be napping out in the middle of the street, most of the homeless had found a nice bridge to rest under and build a fire. Perhaps he had been mugged the night before? It would explain his lack of decent clothing.

As he went past the building, Dusty let out a brief and silent breath before he descended down the ladder he had come up and into the second alley below. His bat's handle clinched between his teeth, he quickly dropped to the ground and spun once he'd reached the bottom rung, body pressed up against the wall as the stranger passed by. Slowly, he grasped his bat, sliding it out from his mouth, and held it close to his side. He hadn't noticed him still. He wanted to laugh as the thought occurred to him that he was being a sly as Solid Snake himself, he wanted to laugh so much. He couldn't though, he had to remain only observant for now, he couldn't let himself be noticed yet.

"What kind of crap have I spurred myself into believing?" The man had stopped walking now, speaking something of the Devil. A quick glimpse of the past came to Dusty's mind, his meeting with Moloch, and he wondered to himself whether this was destiny taking place. The demon had told him he would enjoy seeing his kill count grow, and here was a perfect body to add to the number left deceased by his hand. Tugging at the brim of his hat with a grin, he stepped out from the alleyway and let the bat clank to the ground just as the stranger made his request.

"Descended I have, and your life will gladly be taken! Hyuck!" Laughing and chortling in his speedy stride, the killer slung his weapon. There was something one must remember when using a bat, especially as a weapon in stealth. Always aim for the head first.

As if on cue, there was the distinct clanging of metal against concrete. It seemed that his little prayer had been answered. While Elijah was in no real condition to fight, his body could go great lengths when the threat of death loomed. At first, he thought anyone who wanted to take him down would be smart enough to stay silent.... But this one was different, foolish even. The assailant's first mistake was to even consider an attempt on Elijah Cross' life without a large group. The second? He made himself known, "Descended I have, and your life will gladly be taken! Hyuck!"

The sputtering laughter was more than enough to let Elijah know that the person he was dealing with certainly wasn't normal to the usual standard. He seemed impulsive, irrational, childish. Elijah drew a deep breath and stood silently as the light footsteps grew louder each second. He then removed a silver object from his pocket, it's shining side pointed almost directly behind him. He waited just a moment longer and spun to the right, narrowly avoiding the blow meant for the side of his head and wasted no time with his counter attack.

"You won't be killing anyone when you telegraph your attacks like that."

Taking advantage of the force and motion of the swing used, Elijah half-stepped forward with his left foot and pivoted on it to deliver a swift and powerful right thrust kick aimed directly at the fleshy space between the ribs and hip bone of his short opponent. There were a number of things that gave Elijah the advantage in this first exchange. First, Elijah was much taller. This would mean that not only would the boy have to swing in an upward diagonal motion to hit his head, but the side belonging to the swinging arm would be open.

"You see, the problem with a bat used as a weapon is that you must wind up and swing hard in order to be effective. The follow through is what'll get you every single time."

The wingspan of a human being is generally equal or close to their height. At 4'10", Elijah's attacker could possibly have a wingspan between 54" and 62". Divide that in half, and the length of a single arm could be between "27 and 31". Plus, the bat he was using would most likely not exceed 36" unless it was custom made... But bats like those were reserved for the strong and large.

"You've goofed, my boy." Gramps' voice rang out in his head once more, as Dusty made his swing. The killer's eyes widened, mouth narrowing a bit, as the man spun around and thrust his foot out. He was pretty fast, and rather strong too considering, and as the foot made contact with Dusty's side it sent the boy sprawling across the ground.

"You see, the problem with a bat used as a weapon is that you must wind up and swing hard in order to be effective. The follow through is what'll get you every single time."

"Wow, mister..." Dusty used an arm to raise his torso, teeth clenched and other hand gripping his hip. He picked up his bat and used it to prop himself up, before he slowly brought his foot up as well and pushed himself back to his feet. "That was a pretty good counter!" The assailant showed no sign of anger that his attack had been a failure, nor at the fact he had been injured himself. Instead, he gave a wide grin at the man.

"Let's make things more interesting for the both of us! I can tell, this is going to be the most fun I've had in a while!" His head lowered slightly, eyes falling just under the brim of his hat. He rose the bat up into the air, before a dark aura came about him. This would only be seen by those who were in-tune with the realm of spirits, no mere mortal being able to witness the power seeping from but a child. Raising his head back up, what was once a grin had become a wicked, toothy smile across the boy's face. His eyes were glowing red, and, at this point, anyone would be able to tell something was wrong with Dusty.

"You did call for the messengers of Lucifer, did you not?" His voice had changed, speaking in seemingly two different tones at once. Dusty had opened his vocal cords in such a way, that he sounded almost like two people talking at the same time. Which, really, now he was. Grandpa Parker had taken partial control now, and it was time for him to play too. He couldn't let his beloved grandson fall victim to someone who actually decided to fight back for once!

The body of a child, mind controlling it that of a demon, brought its arms back down, bat still gripped tightly in one hand. He held his grandson's free hand out for him, pouring himself into the palm. There was another weapon this boy used, just as all ritualists were capable, and it was called an amalgam. They took many forms, but Dusty's, in particular, was most peculiar as the demonic energy swirling within his hand soon came to a stop to reveal a yo-yo.

"Prepare for your prayer of death to be answered, mortal." He flicked the yo-yo, seemingly absentminded at first, but as it stalled with but a twitch of Dusty's finger a high squeal was made from the spinning metal. Plasma began to form from the winding slot in the center, and the noise grew louder, before Dusty snapped his wrist back up and the weapon in guise of a toy came back to his hand.

A slim satisfied smirk crept to Elijah's lips the moment his kick landed and watched the boy as he was thrown several feet backward. His aim was to break a rib or two and hopefully bruise the bone in the boy's hip in order to inhibit movement in the best way he could. Elijah paid no attention to the protests of his aching kicking foot. The pain it felt was absolutely nothing to the pain he was ready to inflict on this crazy little child, "Wow, mister..." The boy got up slowly, using his bat as an impromptu crutch, "That was a pretty good counter!"

There weren't too many people out there who reacted in such a way to being hit so hard. Instead of pain and anger, Dusty showed nothing but pure joy. It seemed that he was glad Elijah wasn't so easy to knock into the afterlife, ["Let's make things more interesting for the both of us! I can tell, this is going to be the most fun I've had in a while!"

Something was definitely off about this child. Most children his size and age wouldn't be able to keep themselves from screaming or crying when attacked in such a way. The boy lowered his head and raised his bat and Elijah's eyes widened at what happened next. There was a dark aura that began to form around him, full of power. But it couldn't have belonged to the boy himself. He had to be drawing it from someone, somewhere... Something, "What the fuck..." Elijah watched in awe as the aura slowly grew more vibrant in color and managed to break himself away from the sight just long enough to crouch and draw his combat knife, holding it with the traditional grip. Blade pointed out.

Once Eli was armed and ready for what was to happen next, the child looked up to him with glowing red eyes and a wide, sinister grin. He wasn't fighting a human child. He was fighting something much more dangerous than that, "You did call for the messengers of Lucifer, did you not?"

There were two voices speaking now. One belonging to the child and another belonging to that of an old man. This act confirmed his suspicions. The being before him was a mixture of both human and something else. It was evil, sinister. And it wanted to kill him. The monster in a child's body lowered his weapon and extended his free arm, causing another weapon to simply form out of energy. Under any other circumstance, Elijah would laugh at the absurdity of the situation. But since he was fighting a human/monster hybrid, there was only a wry smile, "Prepare for your prayer of death to be answered, mortal."

The child(?) flicked his yo-yo down and stalled it to cause a screech loud enough to wake just about anyone close enough to hear. So if one of them didn't finish the encounter soon, the police would show up to take them both. Then again, Elijah's opponent was just a kid and he was a blood soaked man wielding a rather large knife. The odds simply weren't in his favor when it came to law, "If you're the best that he can send, then I pity him." He said, his eye trained on the child's fingers. While watching the object in question would help, Elijah's interests were with what the hand did. After all, it was the thing that controlled whatever the weapon did. Suddenly the screech grew even louder and the child snapped it back up to his hand. It was that brief moment that Elijah took advantage of.

As the weapon made its ascent back into the master's hand, Elijah pulled a second knife from his right pocket and threw it directly at the center of Dusty's chest. Without hesitating he dashed forward and grabbed the lid off a metal garbage can to use as a shield to protect himself just in case the yo-yo would come flying in his direction. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind that a screeching sound such as that at close to 4 in the morning would attract the attention of someone willing to call the authorities.

Dusty and Gramps smirked as the man dashed towards them. He was a brave one, but there was something more to their prey this time. He was more hardened in battle, a worthy opponent indeed. As his arm moved to his pocket to retrieve another knife, the boy tugged at his hat with the hand holding the yo-yo and swung the bat forward until it had made its way around to his opposite side with the other hand, his foot sliding back for leverage. The knife came flying towards him, the man skilled at the art of throwing the blades. Quickly swinging the back once more, it made contact with the knife and sent it flying into the air, landing directly in front of them.

He had been too focused on the blade coming towards him and stopping it to notice his true target, now with the lid of a trashcan in hand. Scanning the area with his eyes from his range of view to make sure no cars were coming, Dusty jumped back and landed in the middle of the street. Flinging back his yo-yo, he stalled it behind him. He hadn't gotten to use this attack on an actual person yet. To normal humans this could possibly be a single hit kill, but it had one flaw. It took a bit of time to charge.

Behind him the yo-yo continued to spin, his hand behind his neck, middle finger continuously twitching to keep the weapon spinning. The screeching rang out once more, growing louder and louder, plasma energy swirling. Not too long now, it seemed, and his own blade would be formed. The boy held his bat out in front of him defensively in case the man decided to make his own way into the open road.

"I wonder who'll clean up the blood if we cut you in half... Hyuckyukyukyu." They asked idly, still waiting for the right moment to lash out with their deadly weapon. They didn't really care, it just felt good to at least make some sort of chatter. After all, why should they be worried of such things as cleanup duty?

Elijah took direct advantage of Dusty's swinging the bat to knock his knife to the ground and hurled the trashcan lid at his exposed solar plexus like a giant frisbee. Without breaking stride, he dove forward into a roll and gripped the hilt of his second knife. It was a practically seamless motion that both made him a much smaller target while building momentum for his next move. Considering the fact that the bat had just been swung, with one arm, the recovery time would be much longer than if he used both hands. The hand in control of the yo-yo was too high to be utilized in a defensive motion without sacrificing the strength of his charging attack.

"I wonder who'll clean up the blood if we cut you in half... Hyuckyukyukyu."

By following through with his roll, Elijah was acting like a coiled spring and lunged forward with his arms extended. The right hand holding his thrown
Bali-song aimed to stab Dusty in his knee while Elijah's left hand with the much longer blade went to pierce him right through the stomach.

"The same person that's going to put a tag on your toe."

This attack served two very distinct purposes. By stabbing his opponent in the knee, movement would be painful and extremely hard to pull off if he simply didn't bleed out from the knife going through his gut. In the event that he was successful, the move doubled as a flying tackle that would knock the child onto his back and allow Elijah to roll right over him. He wasn't too worried about escaping the child, however. Why would he want to leave the one place that gave him the edge in a fight such as this? The alley was rather long and narrow, meaning that Dusty's yo-yo was only effective in the areas in front of and behind the user. There would be no arcing to the left or right because there simply wasn't any room. Sure, the yo-yo would be able to rip through the brick and concrete of the buildings surrounding the two, but the string would no doubt get itself tangled up in the piping.

There was a second thing that gave Elijah confidence in his ability to survive this encounter. A yo-yo cannot be brought back without first being fully extended. It must uncoil before being able to recoil. This meant that even if the stabbing didn't work, Elijah's tackle would put him directly on top of Dusty. And the only realistic way to harm him after that would be to stab the object through his body from behind. Unfortunately for the child, there was the risk of piercing himself with his own weapon.

This guy was pretty fast, and those knives would be a problem. Nobody usually got in this close to Dusty, a fact that proved even more true when he was being helped by his grandfather. The boy's red eyes darted from blade to blade just as the man leaped at him. He'd have to be faster, there was no way he could survive a stab to the gut, especially not from a knife like that.

He kicked out to the side slightly, and pushed himself out of the way. The slice aimed for his belly clipped across his shirt and left a long, yet shallow, cut against his skin. As he made his own leap, he dragged the yo-yo along with him and hoped it would cleave the man in two as he'd planned. The spinning plasma kicked up rubble as it tore into the road, but only managed to leave a cut, just as pathetic as the one on his stomach, on the stranger's cheek.

"DAMMIT BOY, YOUR TIMING WAS OFF!" He yelled as he managed to roll across the ground and snap the yo-yo back to his hand as the energy dissipated. Crouched now, he looked down to the cut on his stomach. To anyone else it would seem he was arguing with himself as he responded, "Gramps, you were the one who made the jump too soon!"

He grabbed his head with his right hand, yo-yo placed against his ear, and growled angrily. In truth it was a fault to the both of them, but neither would admit it. Angrily, he slung his bat at the man before he stood back up.

"NO MATTER, WE'RE GOING TO END THIS NOW!" With that last scream he jumped back to the sidewalk, not necessarily paying enough mind to check for anyone else in the area, and slung the yo-yo back out at their target. If this followed through appropriately, he would be snagged by the neck and pulled to the ground. Walking the dog was Dusty's favorite trick, and he liked to save it for last.

Elijah allowed a slim smile of satisfaction spread across his dirty face when he felt the slight pressure of his blade sliding against the young boy's abdomen. It was a long and shallow cut that bled lightly, not exactly the gutting that he had hoped for. Then again, that was probably for the best. He was bleeding, sweating and there was no doubt in his mind that, upon finding the body, police would have very little trouble with linking him to the scene of the crime. He had no alibi and Elijah didn't think the interrogator would believe him about the trip to hell and his encounter with Lucifer. He'd just sound like a crazy person.

Just as Elijah thought he was in the clear, Dusty's energized yo-yo whizzed past his head and left a cut in return. The heat instantly cauterized it, so that was nice. But that didn't stop the wound from hurting like hell. With the string fully extended by the time Elijah had rolled out of his dive, he made an attempt to cut the string with his bloody knife and had no success. Either the blade needed to be sharpened, which was insane, or the string just couldn't be broken. Wait, no. Nothing is indestructible. Extremely durable, sure, but everything broke with enough strain. Then again, being attacked by a child with two voices and a yo-yo able to rip into pavement like soft mud was just enough to change his perspective.

With his back facing the child, he wasn't able to see the next attack coming for him and stumbled forward when he felt the bat connect with his exposed back. He was going to pay dearly for that, if not today, then it would be the next time they would meet.  The pain of both attacks still fresh, Elijah whirled around just in time to hear both voices shouting in unison, "NO MATTER, WE'RE GOING TO END THIS NOW!"

Elijah braced himself for another burning hot blow, but noticed something different. Instead of simply attacking him, Dusty jumped backward and slung his yo-yo right out. The move was amusing and impressive. But it was also a big mistake. As soon as the child's feet left the ground, Elijah hurled his Bushmade knife at Dusty's right shoulder and caught the attack meant for him in his bare right hand. There was a loud and sickening crunch as several bones in it fractured and sent a sharp pain up his entire arm. He was too far in to simply release it, though. With a roar, Elijah yanked heavily on the string before throwing his second and smaller knife at the center of his stomach.

Shortly after his last move, Elijah's vision blacked out for a split second and he braced himself against the wall. That was going to be his final attack in this particular fight. He was already assaulted, changed dimensions, and now his right hand was broken and bleeding. Even when a human's life is in danger of being extinguished, the adrenaline doesn't last forever. And the young man was beginning to really feel the severity of his injuries, "You shouldn't have jumped, Kid..." He hissed through gritted teeth, "Once you're in the air, you can't change direction. You can only twist yourself about and pray that whatever's coming for you hits somewhere less important."

Time stopped as Dusty looked at his opponent, his body twisting in mid-air as the blades flew through the air. Bumf. That was all he felt through his body as the first of the knives planted within his shoulder. As the second ripped into his stomach, he fell to the ground and flipped forward with a yelp.

"I'm still going to kill you, there's no stopping the wrath of a child of darkne-" The boy was stopped mid-sentence as Gramps finally managed to wrestle control from him. His eyes drooped, and the demon forced him to rip the weapons from his flesh. It would hurt later, not just his pride, but the boy would survive if he left now.

"You definitely put up a good fight, kyukyukyu..." The demon took his hat off and bowed to the young man. It would be simple enough to kill him as he was, but there was simply no time to do so. Coming up from the bow, the boy's body flipped back and, as he landed, kicked a manhole from the ground. He then forced Dusty to jump down.

"Retreat is the best of options sometimes, my boy."

"We'll get him again soon though, right?"

"That we will, Dusty."

Shunk!

A grin of satisfaction began to spread across Elijah's face when his knives struck their targets dead on. One right through the shoulder while the other pierced his stomach. The blade meant to gut Dusty wasn't long enough to do too much harm but, if left unattended, he would bleed out. But the one that found his shoulder would have a lasting effect... But there was always the possibility of some healing factor that Elijah didn't know about. Considering all that had happened before, it wasn't too far-fetched.

There was a yelp of surprise rather than pain when the child realized what had happened and leaped toward the cause when his feet touched the ground. He wasn't too happy about being hurt, and it showed,

""I'm still going to kill you, there's no stopping the wrath of a child of darkne-" Before he could even finish his sentence, the child's eyes and dropped. Did he die? Pass out? Something must have happened to make him shut up like that. Elijah wished he could take advantage of the child's vulnerability and finish the job with his one remaining knife, but that wasn't going to happen. His body was put through the ringer and there was no way he could put up a fight anymore. Hell, it took just about everything he had left to remain standing.

Through grit teeth and immense pain, Elijah began limping his way Dusty's direction. This was his chance to at least try and finish it, "Actually, it looks like I'm the one who's going to kill you..." When Elijah was about eight feet away, the boy jumped to life once again and forcibly tore the knives right from his little body. There was a sudden fountain of blood as the only things keeping the liquid from flowing freely were removed. At this rate, he didn't have time to do anything other than escape and patch himself up, "You definitely put up a good fight, kyukyukyu..."

Damn right, he did! But if Elijah weren't in such a sorry condition, he would have had the child's head sandwiched between his foot and the cold pavement, "I aim..." He hissed, "To please..."

It was a disturbing sight... A child speaking in the voice of an old man, blood pouring from his open wounds. There was more to this than met the eye, and Elijah was intent on finding out just what. There was a whole world he knew nothing about. And as the child(?) leaped away, making his escape through the manhole, the man left behind went to retrieve his bloody knives, "I need to get out of here..." He said, taking note of the sirens that grew louder every second.

With one final push, Elijah shuffled his way through the maze of alleys and narrow streets. There was a tight feeling in the pit of his gut... This was just the start.

Things were going to get much worse before they got better.