Cain stood before the black steel bars of the manor's high gates. He reached into his coat and pulled out an old key, slid it into the lock and twisted it. Slowly, the gates swung open. He walked in and the gates closed up again. He strolled down the long windowing path, made of grey brick and stared downward at the waves of lawned grass on both sides of the path. All around were scenic ornamental flowers, trees and shrubs to give a regal feeling to the environs. He breathed in the cool air, and drew the sleeve of his left arm back to check the time; 5:00AM. He smiled.
"I've still got a few hours to catch up on my sleep", he said dryly.
He walked up to the guardian lion statue and repeats his prior action, opening the doors and windows. The doors were already open. Cain frowned. He cautiously stalked up the stairs and pushed open the main doors slowly. He quietly hung his coat on the coat rack to get rid of its rustling sound, leaving him with a back body-fitted turtleneck sweater,smooth to the neck and a black belt that held up his light grey trousers.
He climbed the stairs leading to his study, ascending slowly. He reached the top of the stairs and met the door ajar.
"Classic". He said to himself.
He walked into the study and stopped in front of a full-length mirror.Stating into it, he observed his reflection, though dimly lit by the moonlight, in the mirror. As he did this, he noticed a slight and rather discreet stirring in the darkness behind him where the ceiling was. Instinctively, he spun his head around and suddenly, a hooded figure donning a green cloak descended speedily from its position on the ceiling with a dagger in its hand, bearing an emerald hilt. He could not see its face clearly but its eyes shone with an otherworldly green.
Reflexively, Cain took a step back from his position and stared at the hooded figure. Shortly after, it began to make an eerie clicking sound, like a pen's cap being opened and closed repeatedly. Clearly, this thing meant to harm him.
'Something's wrong here...why isn't it afraid to attack me? Is this what Light was taking about?' He mused to himself mentally.
The creature persisted in its clicking sound.
Suddenly, the hooded figure lunged swiftly at him again, with speed far surpassing anything a human body could manage. In an equally swift and well disciplined motion, Cain stepped to his left and took hold of the creature's attacking arm and snapped it in half at both the wrists and elbow joints in the space of a second. He followed through with a high kick from his right knee to the creatures face and then, tossed its entire mass to the end of the room, sending it crashing into the mirror.
He looked to his feet and took notice of the creature's blade. He picked it up but its emerald hilt scalded his palm where he made contact with it with a searing noise, which caused him to stiffen in pain and throw it back to the ground. The blade and its hilt then began to glow a bright green, inscriptions becoming visible on its flat end from its hilt to its crooked tip.
The inscriptions read;
"Death to the mark of the beast, Death to Cain!"
Seeing it, he raised an amused eyebrow.Just as he did, the clicking sound resumed, accompanied by the sound of cracking bones. The creatures arm was clearly healing of its own accord. The arm spun back into shape in a matter of seconds. Then, the creature straightened up its body and with a voice that sounded distant, far-off or perhaps not even its own said; "It is done". The voice had a somewhat sing-song tone to it.
Quickly, the creature made for its weapon, moving even quicker than it did before.
"It's gotten stronger". Cain said knowledgeably. He pointed his right index finger at the creature and casted an age-old invocation; "HOUSE OF GOLD".
Suddenly, the creature, along with its weapon was enclosed by a thick cube of gold, hovering two feet above the ground. Cain stared at the floating cube grimly and said quietly; "Maybe I will need some help".
Author's info!!!
~ House Of Gold:
Spell type: Invocation.
Description: Envelops target in a gold structure of the casters choice. The selected structure keeps the target in an alternate reality where it is granted its every dream and hearts desires, preventing it from seeking escape. It is the perfect prison. The target is naturally unaware of this fact as they are most commonly deluded into believing that they emerged victorious in whatever battle they were engaged in.
* * *
A young man with spiky black hair; well permed is seated at a round table, typical of a gambling joint with a beaming smile on his face. He has a black leather jacket on with a white inner shirt and a pair of shades with silver frames.
Across and around him are four creatures; Demons, judging from their looks.They are distinctly physiologically built, suggesting that they were of different breeds. Three of them were normal demons, grotesque-looking , while one of them is a humanoid. Their colors were red, purple, greenish-yellow respectively while the last one, a humanoid demon had a gray skin tone with scales enveloping his form and two pairs of sinister-looking horns.
In the young man's hands, four cards were held, their content skillfully hidden from his opposition who did likewise, typical of the game. The scaly demon on the other hand, had a single card on his hand and a smile on the corner of his mouth. He took quick calculating glances at each of the other players, emotion devoid of his crimson eyes.
"I win". He says. Instantly, the young man's expression darkened. He glanced quickly at a black skull-shaped amulet sitting at the center of the round table among some other items that had been staked people to the commencement of the game. He has staked the amulet. He looked up and resumed his grinning. Skillfully, he flicked all of his cards into the air, above the poker table.
"Reapers! Give me a hand!" He said laughing maniacally.
Four grim-reapers, clothed in black cloaks with hoods drawn over their heads emerged from the faces of the concealed poker cards. Their hands were bony and rather skeleton-like, with a thin brown film over them to call skin.
Each one bore a metal scythe around 6-feet long.
Swiftly, three out of the four reapers rushed forward, scythes in hand, to kill the three normal demons, who were fixed in place with shock by the sudden appearance of the reapers. The fourth reaper however, missed its target who knew better than to remain seated, by a hair's breadth. The scaly demon, whom is later known as Asmoth, leapt backward, dodging the second swing of the soul-reaching scythe. He clapped both of his palms together and bright purple flames erupted from within his closed palms.
"Ignite". He said in a cold and deep rumble.
Promptly, he spread his palms apart and a ball of purple flame formed between them. He inhaled sharply and exhaled a light brush of air sending the ball of fire towards his enemies as a stream of blazing hellfire, which consumed the reapers and headed towards their master.
The young man expertly punched the edge of the table, causing it to fall and create a barricade between himself and the flames. He grabbed the amulet and some of the other valuables as they were launched into the air. Despite the durability of the table, designed to withstand undue destruction from losing gamblers, the flames were quickly consuming it.
Before his opponent could react any further, he placed his palm on the ground and the shade casted by the table there darkened. Slowly, he descended into it smiling as he did. "Catch me...if you can". He said erupting into a maniacal laughter.