Bleh!, Guys, honestly, I completely forgot that December 9th was my birthday. I've been busy with a lot of things, and stuff isn't going very well, even though I didn't like how the chapter turned out. But it's part of the progress, of life, and of my writing
Second chapter, probably the eighth draft. This whole chapter was originally intended to be part of chapters 3 and 4, but initially, chapter 2 was too long, so I split it into two parts, and then split it again into two. A lot of mess that honestly doesn't matter.
I'm not happy with how the chapter turned out, but well, that's how things go
There's also a drawing of the isaac design featured in this chapter on (P a treon . com (slash) Asofcookies) for free (or what could be considered the initial design)
I'm also going to upload something called 'fragments,' which are basically canon/non-canon extra bits from the chapters. For example, fragment #1 deals with the moment before Isaac encounters the angel in chapter 1.
Enjoy, and remember that this series is on most fanfic-related pages.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The eyes that once had been submerged in tears finally opened again, but this time without the trace of past weeping.
Isaac staggered slightly upon 'waking up.' Given the multitude of experiences he had lived through, this normally wouldn't have been relevant, were it not for the uncomfortable sensation he was experiencing. Every corner of his body felt strange, disoriented; every muscle felt... wrong.
However, that seemed to be the least of his problems at the moment.
Curiously, he found himself unable to perceive what this new world holds, finding everything around him as dark as the void that harbors his memories. Accompanied by a distinctly sour and unpleasant smell that somewhat reminded him of the substances his mother consumed at some point.
But focusing on the brightest aspect of this dark place, Isaac smiled upon finding a glimmer of light, seen at the end of his narrow path.
His eyes could perceive something enlightening, a light even brighter than what he could see with the naked eye. Though not the clear white light one might hear about at the end of the tunnel, it was still a radiant light that could easily be mistaken for something like that.
The most significant difference being the red and purple hues that seemed to dance behind the end, remembering from scattered memories how he used similar colors to represent this kind of things in his drawings, after all, this was hell
And, he was pretty much there, and despite knowing it, the most unreal aspect of the situation was... how natural and calm he felt in this place. Or maybe, compared to his endless dream, it could be considered a substantial improvement.
(With a bit of luck, there are no needles in this world...)
...
Isaac resisted his initial attempt to move, but as the steps progressed, Another imbalance manifested within him, reaching the point where he had to grab onto the first available surface to support his forehead. His face contorted in a grimace of discomfort as he experienced a pain he didn't recall feeling even in the nights of famine. A pain that assaulted his mind mercilessly, feeling how this pain did not restrict or diminish but only worsened with each passing second.
It felt as if the barriers that kept his memories buried had crumbled. Memories that he had never felt were present began to overflow his mind, from the simple topics of his old class to biblical passages hidden in the deepest corners of his understanding. The whirlwind of once unrecognizable memories and emotions constituting his mind... now calmed slowly, becoming clearer with each passing second.
Causing a certain discomfort in him.
And as the pain diminished thanks to the memories settling naturally, the young man's body began to move again with will.
Seeing more details as calmness flooded his mind, finding that finite darkness that once covered his surroundings now gone.
Feeling how his eyes adjusted to the darkness that once surrounded him, noticing how what once felt like an endless void of shadows turned out to be nothing more than a standard alley.
At least by hell's standards.
Seeing red bodies that seemed to be lying on the ground, dressed in ragged clothes that retained dark tones beyond certain obvious red stains, that being the most detailed he could find in the figures, aside from the countless bottles of alcohol and scattered syringes throughout the place, which he noted to avoid incidents with them, something simple compared to the mazes that some of the rooms found in the chest turned out to be.
He assumed they were demons, and even knowing that, he had to stop himself from having even a shred of empathy for them, at least for now, but...
His body moved on, only to stop once more.
He found his path blocked again, but this time in an unusual way: his own hands were the barrier. As simple as it sounds, his eyes marveled at his own hands. Not only that, but he realized that, in general, his body was more imposing. He perceived the height disparity with his past, experiencing a stature more akin to that of an adult or teenager than that of a small child at present, so much so that it could even be compared to the height of his mother...
His mouth formed a grimace of bittersweet happiness, wondering if he could even surpass his father's height.
It was starting to feel repetitive stopping so much, but at least now he didn't even start moving.
In general
the now not-so-small Isaac... felt calm, something strange considering his current situation, Although it's not like he's been ignoring it, it's just... it's way down the list of things to digest after dying before the age of 6 and being sent to hell, for the second time.
Especially considering that, in the chest, no matter how many times he defeated each entity or how powerful he became, he had never experienced the peace he now possessed. He seriously pondered the question of how negative it was to find solace in a place like this.
This comfort far surpassed what was once his home, or at least what he had considered as such at some point. He felt more at ease than in his own world, the realm filled with his greatest fears and the forces needed to overcome them. He felt at peace, as if he were no longer obligated to anything, as if he were not forced to fight again just to prove his purity. And amid it all, as redundant as it may sound to say it a thousand times, he would say it a thousand more — he felt calm.
Or maybe it was because he was different, his attitude feels more... calm, because he feels calmer, because now he can allow himself to be calm.
Finding serenity despite being fully aware of everything that had happened in his life, of all the actions provoked by his family, the horrible parental figures his mother and father had become, his mother's constant abuse, his father's negligence toward his own family.
Even the experiences of his world, a world created based on his own mind, the realm where he would have control, his dreamed kingdom. Isaac couldn't help but clench his fists when remembering the confusing feeling of defeating his mother for the first time, overcoming her delusions, and ultimately defeating the beast itself, emphasizing his own destiny and objectives for every enemy vanquished.
All experiences that some would categorize as traumatic, yet he couldn't feel anything but satisfaction for being able to face them, beyond a certain pride he felt for the challenges he overcame, challenges that would seem impossible to anyone else. He noticed how he was drifting further away from being the child he once was.
Despite having so many "traumatic" experiences stored in his mind, he currently experienced a tranquility he couldn't remember the last time he felt something similar, reminding him how he no longer adheres to the same standards as others, reminding him how he is no longer obliged to abide by anyone's rules.
He still harbored remorse toward his parents. Pretending that his feelings were not solely sustained by certain factors, whether it be the affection he had for them or the troubled lives they went through, would be hypocritical on his part. Nevertheless, he still loved them to some extent. He believed that the blame did not entirely fall on them but focused on those responsible for all the misfortunes that happened in his life.
In his heart, he understood the source of evil, the true cause behind everything — the Christian programs that fell into fanaticism and extremism, the same programs that brought decay to his family, destroying his mother's mind like a parasite and driving his father away due to his own problems, ultimately leading to his own demise.
A simple causality of every event related to those programs, and a fact that will never be forgotten, whether 1 or 1000 years have passed.
But in the end… he decided that there were too many things to digest to think about it in an alley, especially in the land of eternal suffering.
Feeling how the whirlpool of his emotions gradually calmed, he found himself compelled to set his priorities in motion, resuming his journey, still somewhat lost in his own head...
But, at least, He smiled comfortingly as he truly realized that he was no longer the same child!. He was no longer Isaac Moriah, the boy whom everyone mocked and had a difficult childhood due to other people's issues, or that child who thought he was the embodiment of absolute evil and acted accordingly based on those beliefs.
No, now he was just… Isaac, the one who could defeat the beast and conquer each of his fears, the one who did not hesitate to confront the harlot of harlots, accepting that, in the end, despite being that 'corrupted' child, he had always been pure—so pure that even dogmas couldn't dominate him, pure enough to go to heaven but refusing, as accepting it would go against everything he fought for
"Quite childish and embarrassing to say out loud..."
...
'Disregarding that...'
And so, liberating himself for the moment from his own burdens, Isaac moved toward the light. On this occasion, he didn't pause, moving with peak motor skill. He skillfully navigated between bottles of alcohol, syringes, and scattered vagabonds on the ground, making sure not to disturb those who were sleeping, He simply did not stop, and continued while he felt more and more the difference of having the body of a child, and the body of a person suitable for high mobility
With sheer determination, he fixed his gaze on the reddish light he approached with a steady pace.
Little by little, he understood more and more the euphoria he felt. He knew with clarity why he could allow himself to feel so ecstatic to be in hell. After all, that was supposed to be one of the worst fears he had ever had... But Isaac thought he saw the point in that..
"Fears, he didn't have those kinds of things anymore! To prove his point to himself, he didn't hesitate to try things he would consider dangerous or stupid, especially in an alley in hell!
Proceeding to gain some speed and jump over a garbage container to go over the homeless people who were getting up from the noise, narrowly missing the landing but recovering without fear before touching the ground, while shouting an apology to the awakened vagabonds."
Now he only saw an opportunity to move forward. That angelic being mentioned that hell had always been misrepresented in its true form; it was still 'hell,' but not "the land of eternal suffering" as it had always been described. It was a significant and important change if an angel had to say it, or maybe he was just being extremely optimistic
...
And at the end of the tunnel, hell gave him a warm welcome, and Isaac received this welcome with an even warmer smile, and an emotion which he had not even thought he would ever have to see a place like this.
After having to cover his eyes, at least until they adjusted to the rays of reddish light that assaulted his face, Isaac observed how the streets were infested with what he believed were demons. In a morbid pity, he longed to see those demons in the same way he did in the past
But he encountered an unimaginable number of shapes totally different from each other, some following patterns, others simply standing out naturally, but always being aesthetically bizarre in some way, nullifying those visceral designs he once imagined, Even seeming more human than he would have expected
And demons were not the only thing he found in that place; he could see how around him stretched a street, crowded with vehicles moving at noticeably extreme speeds. The road was lined with a set of peculiar businesses, some of which stood out for themes related to 'pills,' while others seemed dedicated to the sale of weapons.
Moreover, everything seemed to have a red filter, quite... stereotypical. Isaac just looked perplexed at the buildings with such different aesthetics, even at the sky itself, where demons were sailing. Everything appeared to be imposed with a reddish filter. There was even what seemed to be a giant pentagram carved into the sky
But above all similarities... he only found this more reminiscent of the dangerous neighborhoods he had accompanied his father to every now and then, distancing himself further from the eternal suffering always mentioned and delving into the self-imposed suffering of humanity
uhhh, that sounded strangely philosophical of me...
It was... strange. Clearly, he never believed that hell would look something like this
so simple, mundane, indistinguishable from the human world.
But still, it was hell, and most likely, demons were still, well, sinners. They remained humans who committed sins and were destined for "eternal suffering"
*!BOOM¡*
His pupils dilated as his arms contracted to cover himself faster than Isaac could really perceive, plunging Isaac into a confusion that was stolen to draw his attention to an explosion that occurred on the other side of the street
He observed the smoke rising from a building that apparently was connected to drug trafficking, accompanied by the fire breaking through the windows of the place, and the agonizing screams of suffering that seemed to emanate from some demons escaping the engulfed building. This chaos did not go unnoticed by nearby demons, who rushed toward the scene.
Obviously, for looting (he didn't expect anything else, really...)
Treading carelessly on demons rolling on the ground trying to extinguish the fire from their bodies, and making the mistake of trying to enter the place, which exploded in another blast after a few seconds, this time taking the entire place with the shockwave, and spreading chaos around, latching onto surrounding businesses with the relentless blaze.
...
*plip*
While Isaac looked incredulously at the succession of events, he was forced to move when he heard the sound of something dripping beside him. For a moment, he thought it might be rain until he looked up and saw an arm impaled by an arrow on the alley wall, accompanied by a scream from someone up there.
"Yeah... this looks more like hell"
…
'I should get out of here.'
And just as he thought it, he did, and just to be sure, he also walked in the opposite direction of the explosions once he exited the alley. Despite being in hell, with a thousand different things to focus on, his mind could only return to the beginning, to the same old thing... the past.
Or more specifically, to his memories. Everything felt... simply distant. Of course, he could remember many things clearly, but many others... felt like lucid dreams. A clear example was the memories of his world, spending thousands and thousands of hours in a place and only feeling scattered memories that ultimately made sense due to the nature behind that place. But there was also his encounter with the 'angel.'
Did it really happen? Common sense dictates that yes, it wouldn't make much sense for that to have been like a dream, especially after ending up in this place like this. But this problem also extended to his memories in general, even those he had before entering that chest.
As if he were trying to focus on something that is too far away, recognizing its silhouette, making sense of what it is, but without losing the fact that it looked blurry
He could remember everything that happened in his life, but not in the same way he once did. And that was the thing, he could remember everything perfectly, and not just remember, but... understand, so to speak.
What felt like enigmas now had a clear answer. He understood how he was never to blame for anything. Only after blaming himself for his parents' actions to the point of considering himself absolute evil and causing his own death, it was a long journey to accept that none of it was really his fault—a journey that now seemed... silly, insignificant.
All those actions looked clear, simple, and he even felt stupid for not realizing how horrible his parents had become, for not noticing his father's actions, and for even feeling that his mother was a bit right in saying that everything was his fault, when now he could see how it was actually all her and his father's fault.
At the same time, feeling stupid for giving so much importance to that, to something that happened so long ago, understanding that his parents were people who had difficult lives, leaving difficult-to-understand people in consequence. From his heart, he wished his mother had never found those Christian programs.
Accepting that it was childish, something only a small child would think, and Isaac was no longer that child. It only took using his mind a bit to realize the truth.
something that caused a disturbing reference in his heart, initiated by despair and disappointment for those he loves, believing that perhaps, if those Christian programs had never entered his life, it would only have been a matter of time before anything else took their place, and he ended up in the same situation.
His stomach churned at even the thought of the possibilities his life could have taken if things hadn't turned out the way they did, both for better and for worse
...
Although... he can't help but feel that maybe he would like not to be able to think this way. There was something comforting in thinking that your parents were actually good people, victims of external deception with the aim of extracting value from their suffering. But now it's impossible not to realize all the horrible things they did.
And from the depths of his soul, no matter how much he thinks with his heart or mind, he accepts that it's only a matter of time before his parents join him in this place...
...
If he were walking, he would have stopped only to put on the sourest face he could ever have imagined, Even eating the "lemon" from the chest would not have similar effects.
Christ, that felt... horrible to think, especially by the fact that it's something he could have perfectly had in his head in the past. His body felt a chill thinking that maybe things would be like this from now on.
Isaac stood stoic in the middle of the sidewalk, still unable to escape his thoughts.
Several demons passing by just glanced at him, and following one of the main rules of hell, which dictated "if someone looks weak, OBVIOUSLY THEY AREN'T, YOU USELESS PIECE OF UNPERCEPTIVE SHIT, THIS IS HELL," they wisely chose to ignore him.
Everyone, except a demon moving in his direction.
Two and a half meters tall, red skin with complementary black dots, a pointed bald head resembling a mohawk due to the deformed bone structure of his skull, dressed in a punk aesthetic that seemed to have been forgotten for more than four decades, presenting a stereotypical ensemble that made this individual believe he was the badass of hell.
The sinner spotted from a few meters away that someone was standing in the middle of his path, noticing how everyone around chose to ignore him. As a precaution, he decided to inspect him, scrutinizing his figure from bottom to top. He noticed the apparent lack of musculature, appearing indifferent to any other sinner as if there was nothing to fear, except for the mantle he wore over his shoulders and a couple of thorns that stood out in his white hair.
Until he reached his face, and consequently his eyes, forcing eye contact in the end
The sinner's expression tried to instill fear but ended up being more comical than threatening. His face seemed more constrained than intimidating, something that Isaac, evidently, overlooked. He broke eye contact and focused on more important matters, which the sinner misinterpreted due to the smile the young man with white hair maintained throughout. This enraged the sinner, who prepared to face the insolent one in front of him.
The stereotypical eighties sinner wanted to take advantage of his height and planned to take down what he assumed was a clear weakling, considering only the difference in height and muscle mass, categorizing the young man in front of him as someone weak almost automatically, making him more of prey than a target.
Ignoring one of the aforementioned fundamental rules of hell, his figure slowly approached at a steady pace, warming up his shoulder with stretching movements to deliver something that the young man would never forget.
His mouth let out some grunts of annoyance as he watched how deliberately still he remained, seemingly indifferent even though his intentions were clear just by looking at him, giving the impression that he never took him seriously.
Fueling the sinner's fury, an anger that was about to turn into euphoria as soon as he reached his goal. He continued until he decided he was close enough to intervene and humiliate the incompetent in front of him.
The muscles of his shoulder hardened at an accelerated pace, preparing to end this and highlighting the height difference between sinners, a fact that the demons scattered around could clearly notice, and being in hell, they knew the kind of massacre that would result from this.
It was a mix of reactions, with some deciding to leave before everything got worse, while others stayed expectant of the common occurrences in hell... But only one stood out among them, the one who was aware of the strange contradictory rule in the pride ring, and who had the foresight to interpret how this would end.
Displaying a clear smile at the indifferent behavior of the smaller of the two individuals, the imp began to improvise a betting board with the materials he had around, which was quite simple when he found the remnants of what seemed to be a pile of burnt debris nearby.
Once they faced each other, the sinner could have expected many things from this, acclaim and adulation for his act, savoring the sadistic satisfaction of messing with others without apparent reason, even such a significant impact that Lucifer himself would be in front of him to congratulate him, smiling at the possibilities.
The sinner did not expect that his agonizing scream would be the result of this encounter.
"AGHH"
...
A gut-wrenching scream shot out from the depths of the sinner, looking with wide eyes that widened even more in a gesture of horror, horror originating from how, despite his size, he was unable to move the sinner. But this was just a small hint of his real problem, which belonged to the fact that he felt as if something had impaled his shoulder...
Noticing how the thorns that he had simply seen as decoration on the head of his target twisted abruptly out of the white-haired individual's hair, moving slowly as if they were conscious. What were initially a couple of thorns embedded in his shoulder turned into a multitude within seconds, all aiming for the same target as their sisters, hooking into his shoulder faster than he could have reacted.
And acting like a hive mind, they began to pierce even more, and before he realized it, the thorns resumed their dance, twirling around the "prey's" head as if it were some kind of ritual. It became evident that they were not just "some," but an entire crown, all concealed under silky white strands, a revelation guided from one direction, and all with the same goal.
Unable to register what was happening, the demon was not perceptive enough to react quickly, responding belatedly and only trying to pull his shoulder away from the thorns, a barely achieved effort that ceased when he felt that the accelerated movements only caused him pain due to the friction of the thorns.
And without an obvious prior warning, the thorns completely pierced his shoulder, penetrating beneath the skin through the same wound caused by their initial contact. To say that "a grimace of pain" was the only expression he experienced would be a blasphemy towards the true despair that his being held.
His other hand moved hesitantly toward the thorns, revealing the clear fear he felt as his body trembled, ultimately grabbing them once the pain overcame the fear.
His hand felt the initial sting, a pain null if compared even to the situation his shoulder was suffering. The sinner tried to pull the thorns from what seemed to be their most recent nest, only to feel an even more unbearable pain once he could retract the thorns a bit, noticing the bloodstains they left as they were pulled back.
His once ignorant eyes looked with a sensation that words were incapable of describing at his own shoulder, understanding how the thorns could produce so much pain. This understanding came accompanied by a feeling that had initially been snatched away by the assault of pure adrenaline into his nervous system.
He could feel them...
from the roots to the very thorns, and not only did he feel them, his eyes looked in a heartbreaking way as the thorns moved, as if they were living beings hiding under his own skin, as if something alive were moving inside him, tearing through his insides.
...
His endurance was pushed to the brink of unconsciousness by the sheer pain, drifting further away from mere experiencing and delving into "being."
In his pure desperation, he seized the thorn ensemble with all his might, tearing even through the gloves he had on, and ripped them from his own arm. He was forced to release them from his being when he felt how mercilessly the thorns tried to coil around his hand once they lost contact with his shoulder.
His body experienced an intense dizziness accompanied by a sway, falling to the ground in a trembling manner. Regaining some consciousness from the impact, he could observe how a large wound covering most of his shoulder now displayed accompanied by a putrid green fluid pouring copiously.
His eyes started to tear, not knowing exactly whether it was due to the pain left by the thorns being ripped from his skin or if it was the relief granted by no longer feeling the thorns crawling beneath his own skin.
The demons who were previously expectant watched with different reactions to the sequence of events. Some made the decision to flee, losing their courage out of an obvious fear of the possibility of getting caught in some kind of crossfire, while others looked ecstatically as all of this unfolded, feeling satisfied by the spectacle. Some simply went about their day, while others seemed to document these events with their phones.
With a high number of demons cursing Satan for losing the bet, the one responsible for handling this bet was the happiest of all. He was trying to escape with a shit-eating grin but was stopped by other annoyed demons.
And... Isaac?, well, he didn't have a fucking clue about what just happened
He wasn't stupid; he realized the demon's intentions from the beginning. The goal of messing with others was evident in its gaze (literally, its pupils were skull-shaped).
He does not enjoy causing harm to others (he... likes to think that those thousands were for self-defense, even though there was a point at which they became more of a target than a problem), much less something as cruel as that!. He knows he has problems socializing, he always did, but even now he knows the difference between a problem and... "this"... He seriously had no idea what he could have done
He avoided attemps of conversation when he saw him screaming in pain. What could I even have said to improve the situation? "Let me take the thorns out of your arm"? The guy looked like he was going to pass out from how pale he turned; talking to him would probably make things worse.
So, he chose to simply focus on other things, and he did the same thing he always did at home when there were problems, stay quiet and wait for them to pass. It was strangely uncomfortable to have someone screaming in pain next to you, especially with so many people watching...
He also saw how the thorns hooked into his flesh, paying more attention to the uncertainty he felt watching the thorns move on his head than to the sinner suffering the effects of them. Unfortunately for the demon, and as if he were a small child, his attention shifted to something else instantly.
The groans of pain couldn't interfere with Isaac taking more notice of his current attire, even the accessories he had on, something he hadn't thought about before, for… well, due to his permanent residence in the land of eternal suffering and all that.
Looking down, it was only now that he realized he had no footwear, a strange detail he hadn't noticed despite the streets filled with filth (filth = syringes, vomit, and literal crap, nostalgic). It's worth mentioning that it was oddly bizarre to see such large feet compared to the small ones he once had.
In addition, he wore a full set of long, entirely white clothing with no extra details, except for pockets. It didn't bother him much; it was better than being naked (as he was for the last quarter of the life he lived)
In addition to all of the above, he wore a completely black cape that reached a little below his waist. He couldn't help but take the ends of the cloak and wrap it around his body to cover himself completely, feeling nostalgic as he remembered how much he loved combining this cloak with vampire charm to pretend to be Dracula.
While on his wrist, there was a black chain with an orange tip, already having a vague idea of what it could be from its appearance, feeling strange as he recalled the uncomfortable sensation he experienced as Jacob and Esau
And in the end, he could feel the thorns moving freely on his head. It was a strange sensation to have them wandering freely up there, but it didn't seem aggressive, at least not to him. He couldn't say the same for the guy who was bleeding a few meters away, something that Isaac deliberately ignored, not wanting to confront this situation
Despite what his common sense dictated, the tips of his fingers slid over the crown on his head, realizing that the roots and thorns simply didn't affect him. But what did affect him, so fucking much, that he was forced to stop, was the feeling of something silky and soft on his fingers, something that came from a sensory experience that felt nostalgic to the young man.
...
'Hair.'
Everything seemed to lose importance for the young man
from the crowd watching him to the demon who tried to assault him earlier. He could only hear an abrupt silence as his other hand instinctively moved to join his sister in sharing the same beautiful experience of feeling his own scalp once again.
Confirming his suspicions by the similar sensation, his smile widened as a result of this. Besides, just now he noticed a tuft of hair with an ash-white hue covering his forehead.
"I have hair!"
Setting aside the clear euphoria that Isaac could experience upon regaining what he had lost long ago, and something he didn't even know he missed so much (he did know, very well)
the sinner regarded his actions more as mockery, as if his existence wasn't significant enough to be taken into account.
'As if having hair on your head is even that great!' The demon grumbled annoyingly as he stood up.
And despite still having his shoulder in shambles, it only took him a few seconds to rise and close the short distance between them, arriving in front of the young man with white hair, an expression of anger etched on his face.
Something that did not go unnoticed by the young man, who found himself face to face with a demon over two meters tall, who breathed heavily as his teeth gritted in hatred and annoyance. His response?
"Hi-"
"Listen for a second, you little piece of shit." A thick hand approached Isaac's neck, failing when his target stepped back a bit but managing to grab the hem of his shirt, having the opportunity to lift the young man in an attempt to appear 'threatening.'
And he failed, miserably, considering how despite managing to lift him and bring him close to his face, you could still notice the nervous tremor in his hands, how his bloodied shoulder hesitated. And deep in his putrid soul, you could see that primal fear in his eyes, the 'what would happen' if this were a mistake. After all, this could have been his last chance to escape.
And he was dismissing her, just as he had discarded his entire life.
Isaac was already getting tired of this, but nonetheless, he tried to avoid conflict, so he simply waited. What he supposed to be a patient calmness, however, held a different meaning for the sinner in front of him.
Despite being in a disadvantageous position, to the sinner, Isaac showed nothing but indifference. He displayed no hint of fear or any emotion that could indicate weakness—just a tranquil expression with a smile plastered on his face and an apparent emotionless gaze. Yet, his eyes were like golden, so brith that they seemed to burn through his rotten being, penetrating to his very soul.
And that terrified him, something that everyone could notice, from Isaac, who didn't understand this reaction, to the crowd that had fixed gazes on the situation.
The situation was so clear that people even started to leave once they realized how this would end, feeling that there was nothing interesting left to see.
The sinner who triggered this conflict was bewildered to realize that people already foresaw the outcome. Even those thirsty for action considered it boring, and those who bet in his favor got into arguments with the bookmaker, only to be ignored with a middle finger while he quickly escaped. And now, the audience directed their hostile and resentful glares at him.
He was so lost in this situation that he didn't even notice how the thorns started moving again, slowly traveling across the head of the white-haired guy and descending along the edges of his face without harming him, going down his neck and approaching his arm in a threatening manner (?).
"You should be careful with that."With a calm and emotionless voice, the indifferent sinner spoke.
The voice that previously had a thick tone and a threatening intention now only emitted a groan as he let go of Isaac and let him fall cleanly. Without even thinking, his legs started to retreat rapidly, and that look he had before, a gaze filled with annoyance and hatred, now could only contain confusion and fear.
And horror, the most insidious of all, the one that looms in the shadows of the unknown, where deceptive appearances hide the deepest complexity of hell. Everyone occupies this corner for some reason, and that reason, inscrutable, must not be underestimated.
Today, one of the many unwritten rules of hell was inscribed on the shoulder of this sinner, and not only on his shoulder but on his very soul.
...
The demon frantically turned around and walked nervously in the opposite direction, muttering something along the lines of 'weird fuckers, I swear that -,' even finding himself unable to finish his sentence when he felt a gaze piercing through the back of his neck.
Piercing through his entire body, unable to turn around and face that monster, only increased the speed of his escape, leaving only Isaac, who still didn't understand a damn thing.
'Is this common in hell?' He thought as he let out a sigh more of annoyance than anything else.
Isaac watched as the figure of that demon disappeared into the distance, and all of this provoked mixed feelings in him. He didn't care much about these types of situations; he had faced worse things constantly. Still, he doesn't really like conflict. Despite appearing much stronger than in the past, that doesn't mean he has any interest in harming others now that he can.. However, it's not like he could evangelize each one.
...
That would be impossible and childish.
But on the other hand...
"I say-, I say!"
A demon with a crimson red skin tone closed the distance with him quickly, to make a strange introduction, and then force a handshake with him.
"I'm Wally Wackford, owner, co-owner, and sole leader of Wacky Wally Wackford's Wacky Idea Factory."
Isaac experienced a profound confusion as he observed the imp in front of him. From the name of what he assumed was his company to the strange enthusiasm he demonstrated while introducing himself, nothing made sense. He simply didn't grasp the direction the conversation was taking.
This discomfort bothered him, and he hoped that his premonition that this meeting would be similar to the previous one would turn out to be wrong.
There was also no pause between word and word, releasing his hand and leaving him shaky. The demon with the bowtie leaned over his shoulder, resting on it while his other hand rested on the opposite shoulder.
"I saw your performance back there, you were great! Beating a guy bigger than you without even lifting a finger? Splendid!"
The white-haired boy could see how the demon's smile widened in a sinister way, while the pressure on his other shoulder increased, making him doubt whether he should remove him from his personal space or keep listening... or both, perhaps.
But before acting on either ideas, the little devil let go of his shoulder to open a briefcase, which seemed to be full of things he couldn't see because it closed so quickly, with a few wads of bills being the only thing he pulled out.
"Take it! The most beautiful green in the world! No, not that one clearly, but a big-, ahem, half-, NO, a small percentage of what you made me earn with your little thorn trick!" Some stacks of bills fell into Isaac's hands as the demon finished speaking, preparing in advance to continue his presentation with other things.
His eyes moved from the stack to the demon slowly, who adjusted his bowtie as he prepared to continue speaking after pulling out some schematically dubious designed sheets.
Isaac completely gave up on understanding the imp's chattering, which ranged from personal income to, for some reason, touching on birth rates. Amidst this confusion, he noticed something approaching them from the sky.
Quickly assuming what it was, Isaac, a bit concerned, tried to warn the person next to him. However, every time he attempted to speak, he was interrupted by conversations related to companies and why his was the best.
Annoyed and tired of the endless talk, he simply opted to grab the imp by the shoulders and shift him laterally to the side, just in time for the spear to hit the spot where the imp had been previously. It pierced the pavement directly, leaving even smoke in its wake
"He-!" His reprimand stopped when he saw the spear embedded in the ground, accompanied by screams that could be heard in the distance.
Although the smile never wavered, his face seemed to convey that he preferred his life over finishing what he came to do, one thing, which isaac could respect a lot. "Yo- you a-lready know who I am, and you will hear from me!, If you're interested in being explo-, I mean!, generating high income, just look for Wacky-"
"SON OF A B-!" A crowd of people seemed to run towards his direction, or rather, towards Wally's. He gave a smile accompanied by a bow, then packed everything he had taken back into his briefcase and ran away, Isaac could even notice how the briefcase seems to be dropping bills with Wally's face on it as he ran for his life
The crowd of people passed by him, while some glanced at him, more at the stack of bills he still had in his hand than at him. In the end, They just decided to keep running after Wally's ass after realizing what happened literally 5 minutes ago, that realization and the fact that Isaac had a strange combination between an annoyed face and a smile.
...
'Demons... are weird.'
It was the only thing he could think of, seeing how now almost the entire street was empty, probably either following Wally or leaving during the conflict; the constant explosions also added to the points...
He smiled a little at the wads of bills as he put them in his pocket, maybe strange, but hopefully not all bad.
He didn't know if it was a lot or a little, but it didn't seem useless. Apparently, hell has an economy!; it was interesting, like almost everything that encapsulates this place, and more than anything... Demons were the most curious, exhibiting behaviors surprisingly similar to humans. However, since they were all sinners, their attitudes might not differ so much from humans, just more aggressive.
I mean... Honestly, it doesn't seem like hell to me. I don't see much difference compared to how my life was above and this
...
Oh.
Well.
Definitely, this is hell.
It's also like a strange combination of stereotypes and biblical stories, a world completely red in sulfur, full of all human despair, but still, the demons don't look as horrible as they were described, and it seems more like the normal world, just a little worse. I don't see where in this I find my "eternal suffering" as they always spoke of, Being confined with all the evils of the world for eternity, can that be considered hell? Because he was sure he had been through that before, and weaker than he is now.
I mean, there's even a giant pentagram in the sky.
It's weird.
Setting that aside, and for what would probably be his ninth interruption of the day, Isaac resumed his course without thinking much, seeing how the street was completely empty because of...
Well, so many things had happened that he didn't even know exactly what caused this, it's so common this kind of thing...
*¡Crash!*
His eyes instinctively shifted to his side; the world seemed to slow down as he analyzed the source of the alert. It turned out to be the same alley he had just left (seriously, He hasn't even moved since he left the alley...?), and what alerted him seemed to be the impact of something in the alley, at least, that's what the scattered pieces near the entrance suggested.
Although he was quick to realize the impact, he wasn't fast enough to notice what fell; he only knew that the vagrants didn't seem to be there anymore, and there was only a cloud of dust that covered everything.
Until a scream was heard, or rather, two. The first one seemed laden with suffering, almost guttural, while the second was just loose insults.
Again, on instinct, he moved away a bit from the alley when the dust began to disappear, standing to the side of it and watching what seemed to be steps approaching in his direction.
Until he finally saw it, a demon, not like the one that attacked him, more similar to the one who gave him money, noticing how this one seemed to be bigger than the other, or perhaps there seemed to be a big difference because of the size of its horns, without it even being what stood out the most, taking that place the splendid suit it had on, unfortunately embedded with liquids and dust, preserving a face of annoyance rather than fear despite its current state.
The little devil seemed to have quite a bit of energy as he left the place, but just as he was about to take a step outside, he was interrupted by another demon that jumped behind him, noticeably more imposing than the first one that emerged from the darkness of the alley.
The second demon stepped on the tail of the first demon, restraining him and prompting incoherent insults from his part. Then, he jumped on his back and wrapped an arm around his neck to try to strangle him while using his weight to restrict the little devil's movement.
The little devil tried to elbow him in the stomach to get him off, but it didn't work. Getting nervous, he saw how his eyes moved rapidly, not with desperation but with the goal of getting out of that situation.
His eyes traveled over everything his motionless head could allow until they met...
The golden orbs looked directly into the demon's red eyes, a curious look met with the constant annoyance of hell. Although it was a one-second interaction, the imp felt strange, not so disturbed, more like "intrigued" by this person
But it didn't seem like a situation to focus on that, so the little devil went back to finding a way out of this suffocating situation.
...
It took him 40 seconds to react. In the first 10, he decided that this was a common occurrence in hell and not his problem. In the next 10, he was about to turn around and leave. In the following 10, he felt empathy, and in the last 10 seconds, he remembered that he can do whatever he wants
the only consequences of his actions that may occur from now on will be his responsibility
If he wanted to kick someone, he could do it; if he wanted to drink alcohol, he could do it; if he wanted to ignore the stupidity of having empathy for a demon, he would do it perfectly
And there was no better time like this to feel the slide of a chain around your wrist
As if it were muscle memory; he knew what uses he had given it, and despite it not being the same place it once was, and not knowing if it would really work being outside of his world, he still had nothing to lose by trying, Whatever, a physical confrontation would be plan B.
His right hand reached forward and opened slowly as he stared intently at the second demon.
A sensation flooded Isaac's heart, an experience he recognized even though it was impossible for him to express it in words. It was as if he understood its operation automatically, without the need for words or gestures to activate it, but he knew with certainty that it was going to happen. A euphoric memory similar to the first time he used such a contraption.
Darkness began to surround certain points around the demon, too far away for him to notice in his situation, until they increased in size enough for something to be shot out of them.
The little devil remained there, enduring an incredibly long time in his current position, but leaving a gaze that seemed to slowly lose consciousness, until, unconsciousness turned into confusion.
The little devil's confusion intensified when he stopped feeling the arm around his neck, preparing for his face to impact the disgusting floors of hell. In the corner of his eyes, he could see how the hand of the white-haired individual closed slowly, noticing the excitement intensify on his face as he looked at him with a proud smile.
Blitz could only think of one thing before his face crashed into the ground.
"The fuck…"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Isaac gains consciousness, has an existential crisis, lel
End of the chapter, chapter finished, the chapter's conclusion, however you want to put it. The next chapter will be out in 14 days, as always, don't expect more than 5k words per chapter. Now, let's go with the facts.
Fun Facts with As! (Story facts or future story ideas you might want to know, which may or may not be mentioned in the future, I don't know yet)
*Uhhh, I always saw Vivzie's hell as something exaggeratedly chaotic. I tried to put that on paper in this chapter, with abrupt events without apparent connection but causing a high number of casualties.
In less than 10 minutes, a demon tried to "attack" Isaac (take advantage of his size and push him), and while that was happening, bets were already being made on who would win or lose the fight. In the end, the demon left due to the humiliation he suffered, with Wally giving him a percentage of what he earned, in addition to trying to overwork him. However, all the people who bet on him went to lynch him, and he had to flee.
...
Don't ask what I was thinking while writing this. It makes sense to me; it's damn hell, pure irrationality.
*If you don't want to complicate things, think of Isaac's new version as a combination of various items in general. For example, the trinity of body, mind, and soul and their versions in the game. A better body (increased physical abilities), a better mind (higher level of common understanding and perception of the world in a different way), and finally, a better soul (the most important foundation in this case, determining two bases that all sinners have, despite not being direct sinners).
*Anima Sola, the solitary soul, ceremonial clothes, martyr's blood, Eden. Most of the items have clear symbolism.
*I was about to give Isaac some fears and things like that, but I realized that facing all he went through and mastering each of his fears through psychological confrontation might be complicated. It would seem questionable to give him fears when theoretically, he has already overcome them.
I was thinking of giving him some like cacophobia or even claustrophobia. There was also nyctophobia, but I ended up discarding it. I mean, those fears were there at some point, but he has already overcome them. I was also thinking of a scene where Isaac locks himself in a chest for a certain reason I can't mention now, but I think I'll discard it.
*I have some weird rules with Isaac's objects. It doesn't make much sense, but I'm not interested in giving Isaac so much freedom. That's why I'm avoiding putting rules that are too noticeable (I still don't know how I'm going to deal with the issue of creating life, as I would like to see what I can do with the companions, like the incubi, succubi, or seraphim).
*Okay, imagine you're a person who ended up in hell, or in any other case, born there, and a random guy on the street opens a betting box where you have to choose between two individuals. One guy is over two meters tall with a massive build, and the other is under 1.85 meters (if you think this is surreal IN HELL, go to a casino; you'll realize that the only surreal thing about this is that these people have money left to bet), plus lust and greed are probably what takes more people to hell, along with being two of the sins that are most profitable in hell.
*Why would Wally even give money to a stranger? Opportunism, first, it allows forging a simple relationship. A guy who seems weak has just won in a peculiar way against someone who seemed like he would destroy him. Making a show with that would allow earning a lot of money. Second, it's hell. If you take advantage of someone, you've messed up. It wouldn't be surprising if Wally started with this kind of thing years ago. Hell fights are probably the most normal thing there is, and it's unlikely that a sinner would allow someone to profit at his expense without getting anything in return.
*I changed a lot the amount of money Isaac received (or how he got it; in the beta, he got it from the demon who attacked him). At first, I thought it would be better for Wally to tell him that he gave him a large percentage, so that he thinks how something so simple can give so much money.
But then I realized that it would be better to say that he gave him little money. Think about it for a moment. Telling a demon that you're giving him a small percentage of something is generally a bad idea unless you're an opportunist. If you show him a large amount and say it's a little of what you earned, you arouse interest in the person by seeing large sums of money for minimal effort (step two is being exploited for the rest of your existence).
*I don't know how smart Wally is, but I guess he's smart enough to make a suitcase that drops fake bills to distract people. (The other idea was bills from economically unstable countries, but I foresee backlash, and if someone wants to tell me something, I would have used those from my own country anyway, lol).
*Isaac was ignorant, lol. Look at the chapter's name. His mind-body-soul were improved, essentially, completely enhancing him. However, his reaction was natural to his new "whole," and he saw things that weren't there before. Does it seem forced for someone to be completely changed like this? Well, I'm still learning how to write. Besides, Isaac has the habit of moving forward, ignoring circumstances. Look at the game, lol. It has to be some kind of defense mechanism, that perseverance.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Next chapter 25/12
P a treon . com (slash) Asofcookies