The brilliance of the sun had faded as the silver moon rose into the sky for its nightly shift, casting its gentle beams of light onto the earth below, illuminating the darkness that was the night.
While many would be awed by its beauty, numerous others would agonize under its grueling chill, suffering gratuitously as they eagerly anticipated the sun's return.
'The cold air is harsh... but Society is far harsher....' A young boy lay curled up on the hard stone ground behind an old, faded green dumpster. Its smell was dreadful, but at the very least it acted as a protective shield against the night's bitter cold which could chill any person to their bones.
The young boy was but a child turned beggar, and he lived in an old, grungy alleyway with several other paupers as well as disease-carrying rodents. As they lived in such close proximity in this narrow corridor, various niche groups had formed, fighting for whatever supplies they could.
There was a very delicate balance that had formed between them, with each group desiring the demise of another. After all, there was the consideration that each death meant a higher share of food scraps for the rest of them.
But even so, they could not act on this desire without putting themselves in a precarious situation as well.
Of course, there were some who adamantly refused to join any group, but they were left with one end—death. Naturally, no one was going to risk themselves to protect a random person who wasn't loyal to their side.
And so, very few individuals dared to fight for survival on their own, the young boy included.
The youth had no true name, instead opting for the tag of FGS and he joined with a clique known as Cerberus. Like wild wolves, the lower ranked members were expected to put up a fight for each and every possible scrap of food they came across.
And any other possible supplies? You better fight with everything you have, even to the extent of putting your life on the line.
If you failed to provide your weekly share's worth—you'd be given one strike. And under most circumstances, the second strike in a row meant you'd be kicked from the group, leaving you to fend for yourself in a futile effort.
Honestly speaking, the only outcome in that situation was once again death, unless another group decided to take a risk and give the pitiful fellow a chance.
FGS looked up at the moon, bitter sorrow in his eyes as he shivered, barely holding in his tears.
'I can't cry... I've survived on my own here for long enough. I'm not weak!'
But as he spoke, a couple of tears managed their way down his face, dripping onto the cold hard ground. His body lightly trembled, while his stomach growled voraciously.
'How long has it been since I've eaten?' he asked himself despondently.
He looked at the dumpster, but shook his head quickly. It had already been rummaged through several times now, and there was nothing edible left in it by this point.
And even if there were remnant food scraps left, the dumpster was property of the higher-ups of Cerberus. The hierarchy of each group was very strict, and the best items and most valuable of properties were left to those with power.
Oddly enough, there wasn't much difference between the hierarchy of the slums or those in power in the government. It was a constant cycle, one which would playthrough regardless of era and scenario.
More importantly, FGS' current situation was the darkest it had ever been, and his future looked dim. He had failed to provide a single item of the slightest value last week, leaving him with one strike and a harsh beating which almost left him with a broken leg.
And now, the second week was nearly up.
Looking at the moon, FGS quietly sobbed, 'Tomorrow is the end of the second week... if I remain here any longer, I might really die.'
He thought back to the last kid who failed to provide anything useful—all of the other groups took pleasantries in watching his pitiful demise of starvation.
The cold air is harsh, but Society is far harsher.
Since his life began, he always felt this quote held true—for him at least.
'Can I get away from this Society? Escape from the clutches of man?' FGS asked himself as the moonlight shone down upon his face, its glimmering light dancing with brilliance, complemented by the shadows of a nearby burning fire.
Of course, FGS was allowed nowhere near this fire. He watched as the smoky fumes made their way high into the sky, drifting into deep thought.
What he sought was the wild lands owned by Nature, a home away from the hierarchy established by the hands of man.
He couldn't help but think back to a wolfish fiend that he had once met, having found the beast sneaking into the alleyway. Was it a big dog? Or was it a wolf? Well, he didn't really know what a wolf looked like, and his imagination would often run rampant in exaggeration.
Regardless of what this creature was, he split the tiny bit of food he had on him in hopes of making a friend, only for the beast to vanish back into the veil of night after eating its share.
Perhaps he could follow in its footsteps.
And with that, he decided, 'Tonight... tonight I will leave this place!' he balled his hands into little fists, vowing to himself.
***
About two hours had passed and FGS continuously looked back-and-forth, his palms were sweaty, knees weak, and arms were heavy.
Despite his vow, he was still hesitant as feelings of nervousness bubbled within his stomach.
All he ever knew was this alleyway, and so he lived in fear of what was outside.
There were a handful of times where he made an attempt to leave, but the slums that surrounded him were far too dangerous, or so the other members of Cerberus would say as they supposedly stopped him for his own good.
Of course, FGS didn't buy any of that! But they weren't the reason he stayed... It was the starved rabid dogs that had become feral in nature which made him stay. Despite their lack of teeth, their canines were more than sharp enough to tear him apart limb from limb. And if he was lucky enough to survive being torn apart, disease would be sure to finish the job.
But now, he was left with no choice but to face these threats as he stood up weakly, his skeletal frame jutting out visibly from beneath the tattered rags he knew as clothing.
Slowly, he crept up from behind the dumpster and into the open, holding his breath in fear that he might attract the dogs' attention and watching his steps in case he might accidentally kick a small stone.
Turning corner after corner, FGS felt an increasing paranoia as he worried about a night patrol.
Cerberus was like any other group in that they didn't want anyone deserting their ranks, regardless of how low their status was. After all, a deserter would both humiliate their group and inspire others to follow in suit, both of which would weaken their group.
With this train of thought, FGS was becoming more and more frantic as his already feeble body grew progressively weaker.
His breathing grew heavier almost as if someone was forcibly grasping his neck with both their hands, strangling him. And just then, a loud squeak echoed out as something brushed past his foot, nearly tripping him.
"AH?!" FGS blurted out in fear, barely catching his balance as he pressed his twig-like arms onto the alley's musty wall.
Looking down by his feet, a large rat was scurrying around in a crazed manner with a pair of beady red eyes. It was clearly starved, and it seemed to be in a state of mania.
FGS let out a sigh of relief, but a sudden bark resounded out, echoing from the alley way path far behind him.
In his fear, time seemed to slow down while his heart felt like it came to a sudden halt. He couldn't move his trembling legs no matter how much he issued the command in his mind.
'Just breathe... Just breathe...' he told himself.
Steadily, he regained his composure, but the barks of dogs were inching closer as each second passed.
'This way!' he decided.
Having lived in this alley for the entirety of his life, he had long since mapped out various routes, making it easy to traverse his way around quickly.
As quick as he could manage, he continued running forward through a series of twists and turns, soon reaching an old wooden fence. Below it was a tapering hole that was just wide enough to fit his meager body.
After worming his way through the grimy hole of mud and garbage, he moved an old wooden board from nearby onto the hole, crouching down as he locked it into the ground as best as he could.
'I need to hurry, the dogs can still track my scent and this won't hold for long! Not to mention, they could be hunting me from several paths!'
He wiped the sweat from his brows as he stood up, turning around—
BEESH!
A punch landed itself onto his face, sending him backwards with a heavy thud onto the ground!
FGS coughed heavily as he held his nose, a trace of blood dripping onto his hand. He looked up, taking in a breath of cold air as he saw a rough looking man. The man's face was marked with tattoos and he had a smile that was lacking in teeth, but thriving in cruelty.
His vision blurred and his stomach churned over, entering into an unconscious state.
"You thought you could escape with a couple of tricks, kid?" The man laughed, dragging his body along the ground to what might just be his end.
***
A few hours passed and the moon was still overhead.
"Whe-where am I?" FGS opened his eyes, looking around in a panic.
Looking at his surroundings, he realized he was in an arena or colosseum of sorts.
This wasn't a foreign sight to him, having seen it on several occasions when a person was set for execution.
They would be tossed inside, and a short while later, numerous men would enter with baseball bats, golf clubs, and various other melee weapons. And if you were lucky enough to survive, they would send the dogs in to reward them with a nice meal.
Nearby was a loud intercom which suddenly rang out.
"Boy oh boy! FGS, all you had to do was provide a single scrap of something useful! And yet, you just couldn't! I can't believe it! We even left you off last week, only giving you a small beating!"
"But you failed a second week in a row... Not just that, you even made an attempt to desert us! The group that has taken care of you for how long? Is failing your obligation to us not enough? You even wish to sully the great group that is Cerberus?"
It was one of the leaders of Cerberus, and he spoke with such a convincing tone of justification that even FGS almost found himself in the wrong.
The voice continued sorrowfully, "I'm sorry boy, I truly am... but you and I both know there's only one fair punishment for deserters like you."
A loud creaking noise sounded out as old rusted gates were opened, and several skinny, old dogs were guided into the colosseum, their mouths dripping in a bubbly foam.
FGS froze, expecting people to enter. At the very least, he could buy some time from them....
"I know, I know, you're going to miss out on the full course! But we are in favor of giving the dogs live food, so this is for the best! Let your death wash away the shame you brought upon yourself, FGS!"
The dogs caught sight of FGS within seconds, forcing their way through the open gates with enlivened expressions.
'Is it over? Just like this?'
FGS felt unresigned, watching in horror as the dogs lunged towards him with unconcealed desire—
Just then, a shadowy figure leapt over the arena walls and several whimpers issued out alongside the sounds of bodies hitting the ground.
With tears in his eyes, FGS recognized the shadowy figure as the large beast-like creature with whom he shared what little of a meal he had.
The beast roared out in anger, and all of the dogs stood down. They growled in anger, but an instinctual wariness of this beast kept them from making any reckless moves.
This instinctual wariness only lasted for a couple of seconds though; the dogs' empty stomachs won the match of tug-of-war over their instinctual worries.
A chaotic mess ensued as the dogs shot toward the beast, ripping into its body without hesitation.
Roaring out its bestial cry, the beast tore apart dog after dog in a desperate attempt to survive and protect FGS, who could only watch in tears, screaming out for the beast to just run and leave him.
Like a storm, blood rained upon the ground accompanied by the harsh screeches of life becoming death. Tiny bits and pieces of skin, flesh, and limbs splattered the surroundings with a gut-wrenching brutality.
When all came to a silence, the beast huffed heavily in front of FGS.
But then, the gates opened once again and several men entered with melee weapons. They moved slowly, frightened by the bloody scene they had just watched. Regardless, they had orders they needed to carry out.
Take the beast down, whether it was left alive or dead didn't matter.
This was what they were told, but the higher-ups of Cerberus naturally knew these men wouldn't be able to kill the beast. Perhaps they could weaken it, but there was no way in hell they were killing it.
These men were just sent to their death to waste some of its energy. After all, if they could take control of this beast, they would consider even the sacrifice of dozens of human lives as a worthwhile investment.
The beast roared out, tacking one man to the ground as it tore his throat out, before leaping onto the next and crushing his head between his teeth.
Still, a baseball bat was bashed across its spine as it roared in pain, followed by a loud thud as a gold club hit across its spleen.
The beast spun around, and its ravenous claws slashed a man's face apart as his eyes popped, drooping out from his eye sockets, and his body tumbled to the ground lifelessly.
A crowbar bashed across its face, followed by the brutal stabbing of a knife into its hip.
After a long while, the fight slowly came to a conclusion.
None of the men survived, but the beast fell to the ground in exhaustion.
Several other figures entered, their faces glowing in excitement.
They approached the beast, and it tried to stand, only for a kick to send it sprawling back onto the ground as it cried pitifully.
A couple of men continued to kick it, all the while laughing out.
FGS watched, crawling along the ground weakly as tears streamed down his face. Just next to him was a knife plunged into the ground which he promptly pulled out as he readied himself.
They were all focused on the beast, so now was his chance!
He rushed forward with what energy he had left, plunging the knife into the neck of one of the men kicking the beast.
All of their attention turned to the boy who was easily outnumbered, thrown to the ground next to the beast. Weakly, he reached forward and grabbed the beast's paw as one of the men shot his leg down onto FGS' head, crushing his skull and killing him.
***
It was dark.
The surroundings were impossible to make out, shrouded by smoke and fire.
"Is this Hell?" a youth asked.
This youth was naturally FGS, but at this point in time he found himself in a dreadful nightmare devoid of life.
It seemed he was all alone, but just then, a small glowing orb flew in front of his eyes.
Entranced, FGS reached out to touch the orb which quickly entered into his hand, disappearing into his body.
Inside his mind, another voice echoed, 'FGS? What kind of name is that?'
"Who-who are you?!"
'Calm down, it's me.'
Suddenly, the large beast manifested in front of his own eyes, looking at him playfully.
"It's you?" FGS was startled.
'Naturally. And before you ask, I am talking directly within your mind—or should I say our mind? The two of us have bonded our souls by now after all.'
"Bonded our souls? What are you—"
'No need to shout. You can even think in our mind, I'll understand you just fine. You can simply refer to me as a Hell Hound. Not quite like this "Cerberus" in your memories which has three heads. No, I am a different type of Hell Hound. Though I'm also not from this planet of yours.'
FGS found himself with more questions than answers, but none of that was important now.
"I'm dead, aren't I?"
'You and I are not dead, you could consider us to be a unique existence. Where I'm from, the Hell Hound bonds with a Reaper, who are thus eternally bonded together by their souls. Think less, and just open your eyes. Together, let's complete our wishes.'
***
FGS' eyes snapped open, but he felt much different than before.
His body had transformed. No longer skin and bones, he had a strong stature and his skin was now fair compared to his previously sickly looking self.
The other men surrounding him were stunned as they watched this sudden transformation, but that was only the beginning.
FGS jumped from the ground, and his body was immediately shrouded in a black shadowy cape of darkness, and under this shadow his body combusted into flames, with only his skull visible in the flames.
Pushing his palms forward, the surrounding men suddenly combusted, their flesh melting away under the heat of the flames as their agonizing cries haunted the night.
Soon, nothing was left, not even ashes.
FGS looked down quietly, but he quickly came to a decision.
'For now on, I will go by the alias of Hellhound. This is also the perfect opportunity for me to escape this Society that has tortured me so much!'
Sure, he was the Reaper while his partner soul was the Hell Hound. But even so, they were pretty much one in the same. Reaper could always become his second alias.
With a fervent speed, he rushed off, leaving the slums behind. His body was still ignited in flames, searing its eye-catching appearance into the mind of any who saw him that night.
***
'The Burning Man'
'Numerous eye-witness reports have sighted what they believe to be a "man of fire," though others have described what they saw as a shadow figure with a flaming skull. Up until now, there is no real evidence proving such an existence. This is believed to be a planned "hoax," or perhaps even a dramatized story in order to cover-up some of the recent drug and weapons deals that have been carried out.'
"Kid, if you're interested in the story, how about you buy a newspaper? Only twenty-five cents for one! If you're not buying, then keep moving!" An old man trying to sell newspapers at a small stand scoffed.
"My apologies, I'll be on my way," a boy smiled slightly.
'It seems news of my existence has spread, thankfully it's all been written off as a hoax or cover-up.'
Naturally, this boy was FGS.
After the previous events, he learned a little more about his abilities.
Firstly, he could enter into a fused state with Hell Hound. In this state, a shadowy cape would cloak his body and he would combust into flames, his head becoming a bare skull.
Secondly, in an unfused state, Hell Hound could manifest itself into the world. If Hell Hound 'died,' its soul would just return to FGS' body to heal.
And likewise, if FGS died then Hell Hound would manifest, and FGS' soul would return to Hell Hound in order to heal itself.
Thirdly, FGS and Hell Hound could simultaneously exist, allowing them to fight together while giving FGS a limited supply of Hell Hound's energy and abilities.
Of course, FGS still had much to learn about his newfound abilities.
***
It was in the middle of a battlefield.
Hellhound wore an armored suit with a red visor, leading a group of four.
Behind him was a man with a speaker system on his mask rather than a visor, a man with a robotic bird on his shoulder, and a man whose mask had only one visor for his right eye with an enhanced sight that could increase and decrease its distance.
Hellhound quietly said, "The Stinging Viper, give us some intel."
"Heh, I didn't think Warzone referred to an actual war zone... Anyways, there's a tank in sight, approximately 1,172 meters north west. I've also spotted four tangos north east around 745 meters away; they're moving in our direction."
"Not bad, not bad at all! Honestly speaking, all four of us have tracking abilities, so we're mostly relying on your sniping skills."
"Of course, though my abilities are much more complex than that." The Stinging Viper snickered.
"I've heard the rumors, but hearing a rumor can't compare to seeing it in person."
Hellhound held high expectations for this new squad member.
Behind them, the visorless man with the speaker system sighed, "But I can't see...."