On a mountain top in a world best left forgotten patches of oil like darkness swirled and contorted, they separated and twisted inwards gaining definition and form. Colour and texture beyond jet black slowly became apparent.
Eventually the blots of darkness were gone and in their place stood people they looked down at the landscape before them and beheld a brave new world. Their were five of them.\
At their backs was an opening that seemed like a giant mouth large enough to swallow a world. Teeth the size of mountain ranges ground against one another, a tongue like a red and black sea darted and shifted. What lay on the other side was unknowable
Before the newcomers was a city albeit unlike any that they had seen before.
The place would remind the common man our women of the stories of ancient Rome, all marble and grandeur a city that stretched to the horizons, guarded by high walls and vigilant defenders. It was only on closer inspection that the strangeness showed, canals flowing with red fluid crisscrossed the cityscape, torches burning green provided illumination and the scaling of the city was all over the place some buildings large enough to border on insanity dwarfing the largest skyscraper stand right next to tiny constructions bordering on phone booth size.
Even to an untrained eye the bizarre city had a militarised feel, it was evident in the way each building was styled after a fortress with arrow slits and barred widows.
Before the city, on the plain below them, a great crowd of people was camped, their fires providing a attractive glow.
The sky was a black void empty of stars and clouds with only a sense of alien cold radiating from it. As the newcomers look upon the sky a knowledge comes to them with an absolute certainty.
This was Hell.
It was one of those dreams, wasn't it.
An eternity spent swimming in the dark, made of smoke and shadow. One second, reality asserted itself and then the next madness reigned. Horror, despair and destruction clawed like knives up my legs and the wind like icy knives sliced by my ears. The souls of the damned called out, wailing, seductive, crying and raging all at once.
This was Hell.
I wasn't religious, and even I could see the resemblance.
Teeth-like mountain ranges and a twisted mockery of a city fenced us in. Four others stood on the precipice, dangling over damnation.
Severus Snape. I could see the black-clad wizard speaking quietly, politely speaking with the others. That alone proved that it wasn't actually Snape. I don't think he could muster up another manner besides disdain to save his life. His looked like Snape from the movies, not sallow skinned, with yellowed teeth and messy, greasy hair.
Kimblee. The psychotic bomber Alchemist was there as well standing together with the others. Absent was all of the manic energy the mass murderer usually had to repress, he was calm. On edge, but in control of himself. His signature silver and gold alchemical formula flashed briefly in the unlight of this place.
The other two I didn't recognize.
The male was blonde, with sharp angled features. His muscles were taught and I could see from the way he moved that he could carry himself in a fight. His balance was wrong, I could see that even from here, but it was more of like a tiger cramed into the skin of a man. He could be anyone.
The woman was bright, white and dressed... well, she dressed like stereotypical Japanese anime. I can't think of anyone in real life that would expose the tops of their thighs with the combination of a short skirt and thigh-high stalkings. She had a winged pistol strapped to her side. She looked like a magical girl, but not from PMMM which was the only show I really knew in depth. I knew almost nothing of the genre. Was this Priscilla, Fate's mother? Given how the other two I knew were certainly damned, it would fit that the mother of the year alongside Gendo Ikari and the one from Kill la Kill then she was in good company.
Standing, I watched the smoke and shadow surrounding my pop and fizzle. I had been waiting/anticipating, planning/executing, a family meeting/the brotherhood's actions. I was/are not Redium/Gravines. I was relaxing/Seizing Godhood.
Two Souls. One Body. One
Will.
They called so sweetly with only a second's hesitation. Tens, hundreds and thousands of soul fragments. Twisting my arm, I dawned a cloak and cowl of countless shimmering , shifting specters. Ever so slowly, would each soul shift and buckle under my
will. As was
right.
Secrets begain to whisper in my eares. The dead have long memories, you just need listen.
"My name is... Graves," I eventually decided. An homage to my twined soul. True to each but not quite of either. An explanation and descriptor. "Welcome, to this realm. I would have your names," I informed the two damned souls I didn't know. "And then I would have your plans."
