Post by The General on Aug 13, 2006 4:26:19 GMT -5
Name: Cerberus
Race: Demon
Age: Some where over 600,000
Height: 6'8
Weight: 223 lbs
Eye Color: Light, white tinted Ice Blue
Hair Color: Silver-White
Skin Color: Pale, Alabaster Stone
History:
A small house sat comfortably outside a massive set of Castle Walls, the moon light illuminating the poor, run down shack. Through shattered windows, a vague amount of light could be seen, dim, but comforting to all who lived inside. Several other houses were around it as well, each one similar in it's broken condition, and yet none of them were quite so far away from the safety in the shadow of the Castle Walls.
These were tense times, and yet, for the young child sitting on the floor, War and murder meant nothing to him. He was too young to grasp the concept, too young to care. Only around the age of 6 or 7, he sat quietly on the ground, a toy in each hand, one of a Knight, the other a small wooden dragon. His parents bustled around him, frantic and worried, and yet, none of their angst or worries could reach him.
Ignorance truly was bliss - especially now. A Warlord from a savage Kingdom had set in motion a campaign to not only capture the entire continent for himself, and create an empire, but slaughter all who would not willingly bow to him. Such was the case with this Kingdom, which was now bristled and armed to the teeth, ready for war. Those unable to get on the inside, however, were more than at mercy to the soldiers...and not even a child such as this would be able to find any leniency.
While his parents argued, the calm ice blue eyes followed the dragon as he moved it across the floor, brushing a strand of tousled, dusty blond hair out from in front of his face - when a soft crackle outside the door caught his attention, the noise of which, neither his parents had noticed. Slowly, he rose, walking cautiously over to the door - true, he was ignorant, but he was far from stupid. And yet...he opened the door still, taking a step out into the moon light.
The rustle was heard again, but louder this time. He paused, prepared to jolt back inside - when the scruffy, patched family cat erupted from the bushes and darted inside. His eyes open wide, the young boy fought to steady his breath, safe - but startled. He turned heel slowly, preparing to walk back inside when a brief glimmer of movement caught his eye. Turning back he peered into the darkness, only to find a nightmare from his parents fears. He didn't even have time to react as the blade swung down, slashing him across the face, and he felt his world flip upside down as he collapsed to his knees, and then hit the dirt.
Through blurry vision, blood clouding his already fuzzy eyesight, he watched the Soldiers enter his house, heard his mothers screams, his fathers curses and attempts to struggle - and he watched both of them die, their blood pooling across the floor. His heart ached, and for the first time in his life, he felt more than just sorrow over loss - he felt hatred.
The world twisted and turned, tears mingling with the blood - and then everything went black.
* * *
It had been three days. Three days that seemed like an eternity before someone, anyone came. It wasn't even someone the child had expected - his hopes had been that of a Knight, or the beautiful maidens he had heard about. He had hoped for a Hero, and his heart ached because deep down...he had hoped for his Father, the one hero in his life - who he now kneeled over, scared and crying. Instead, it was an older man, a traveler of sorts, who had stumbled on the filth ridden child, and had shown compassion.
The young boys mind rationalized, that no one from the Castle had even bothered to care about the outside village because they too, had been under siege, and defeated. Now he believed that everyone from his home...everyone was dead...
It would only be until later that he learned the Castle had not only beaten back the attackers, but defeated them in a crushing victory.
And it only is until later still, that he would kill them all.
* * *
Nearly ten years had passed, and now, the boy was a young man, tall and handsome, saves for the scar that could not be erased from his otherwise smooth features. It was a constant reminder to him of what had happened so many years ago, and he never tried to forget that. Still, joy was not beyond him, even though his heart ached for what had happened that night.
He had started over, built a new life with the traveler, Jarad, whom he had come to call Father. It was odd at first, if not awkward, but he grown to love him as one, and he knew Jarad saw him as a son - perhaps from the moment he had found the child.
The boy also learned knew skills, not only survival and sword play, but something more. He had found out that Jarad was much more than just a mere traveler - he was a Spirit Caller of sorts. In servitude to the current reigning King, Jarad could do something that most would never be able to grasp. He could open a rift between the Living, and the Dead - a tear in space in time. The boy had begged for Jarad to teach him, and although hesitant at first, Jarad did. He also, however, taught the Boy one simple rule that he made him promise to never break or forget.
To never open a portal out of anger, or revenge. To never summon a spirit of malevolent intent, for they held a power the benevolent spirits did not. The power to possess. The ability to force their way into a body and take complete control - and of course, there was the worst kind of Spirit that Jarad warned him to never meddle with. A Demonic Spirit. Demons were unable to pass between realms without a willing vessel. If one took a Demon Spirit, his humanity would stripped from him. He would be virtually emotionless, save for a scarce amount. He would truly become a Demon.
The boy had promised, and it seemed to him, that he would never even have to think about using it.
But fate has a funny way of changing things, breaking promises, and ruining lives.
* * *
The golden sun warmed the boy's skin as he ran through the field, three small blue spirit orbs swirling around him twisting and turning with one another. He grinned as one of the orbs darted forward to touch him, and he dropped to his knees, pivoting and changing direction. The orbs overshot, and frustrated, they turned darting after him once more. The dry grass of the hill they ran upon crackled as the boy hit the ground, the orbs forcing him to the dirt.
Laughing softly, he shook the orbs off, his chest heaving from the exertion of running so far away from the house, several strands of grass poking out from his hair. He lay there, content in the silence, and yet...something seemed out of place. Something felt wrong.
His worries were chorused together as the three spirits cried out, darting back towards the house, and now, the boy rose to his feet, rushing after them. Fear clutched his heart as he hurtled forward, his eyes locking on to the plume of oily black smoke that ravaged the sky. His lungs felt like they would explode, and his muscles ached - but he refused to stop.
He slammed to halt as he reached the front of his house, his eyes wide with shock. Tears slowly fell down his disbelieving face. The house was burning, and in the middle of the inferno was a Soldier - and Jarad. Both dead. He hit the dirt, falling to his hands and knees. Yet again, everything he had ever loved, everything he had ever cared for was now taken from him. All was lost, and it seemed fate would never let him have happiness.
His sorrow suddenly turned to violent rage, anger filling every fiber of his being. The soldiers and there vile King had taken too much from him - He wanted revenge. He wanted to watch them die. Slowly rising from the dirt, he staggered forward, his hand rising from his side, palm outwards and open. Softly, he felt the pull of the Spirit world, focused on one single, vibrant read fiber - and tapped into it. Almost immediately, the sky darkened, the wind ravaging the area as a deep red and black portal was torn open, crackling with energy.
He roared into the portal, yelling out various commands, cursing out of his rage and pain. He needed revenge, and in order to obtain it - he needed the help of something Unholy. What he got, was two somethings. They came slowly at first, the twisted, ebony colored spirits, their faces stamped in a permanent snarl, their mouths twisted and a gape. They hissed at him, a string of demonic phrases uttering from their unmoving lips.
He replied, opening his arms out wide, accepting both of them, his face contorted angrily. Both Demons willingly accepted. Surging forward, they smashed into his chest, mingling with his soul - devouring it. Curling within him, he collapsed to his knees, his body going through various changes. His pupils dilated, becoming sharp triangles, feral and angry - his hair turned to a deep silvery white, whipping about his head in the wind. His nails grew out, sharp like the talons of a beast.
Slowly, he rose from the ground, his humanity cast out from his body, the pure essence of the Demons flowing through him. The wind howled, searing and intense, and the Heavens let loose a cry of sorrow – Cerberus, Death’s Whisper was born!
* * *
Howling laughter wrenched the air, flames engulfing both houses and their owners alike. The mournful cries of women, and the fearful screams of children echoed as the city burned, the Castle little more than ruins. Bodies littered the streets, blood pooling across the ground, spider webbing along the cracks between the cobblestone paths – and walking down it, eyes bright red and feral, his mouth a wide grin – was Cerberus.
So long ago had he left this city, or more to the point, its outside village. Cerberus was filled with hatred towards these people, and their blood spilling between his hands only mildly satiated his Demonic blood thirst. There was only one here who could end his desire for blood here, and now, he stood before Cerberus, the light illuminating his silver armor.
A Knight.
True and pure, these valiant Paladins had been his Hero’s as a child, and they had abandoned him. They had left him to die when he needed them the most, and now, he would return the favor. The Knight looked at him beneath the helmet with no fear, and yet, his face was stamped with realization. He could not win. Cerberus slowly reached up to his back, pulling a jagged, brutal sword from its sheath, the Knight doing likewise with the sword at his waist.
A small outline of movement caught Cerberus’ attention, but he was far from bothered. The Knight, however, seemed more than delighted to see a fellow defender move behind Cerberus, an axe in hand. Cerberus’ eyes narrowed, but he did not hesitate to react. Rushing forward to the closest Knight, Cerberus feinted a sword strike, twisting the Knights blade, and then tossing his own backwards.
Blood flew into the air in two different places at once, both Knights shocked – and dead. The one behind Cerberus looked down at his chest in disbelief, the sword protruding from it, spearing him like a fish. The other had a much more gruesome fate. He collapsed onto Cerberus’ shoulder, blood leaking from his lips. Cerberus’ hand entered at the chest, and protruded from the back, the Knights heart clutched in his ivory talons. Slowly, Cerberus released his grip on the heart, sliding his arm out of the man’s chest and allowing his body to hit the ground.
The inferno raged behind Cerberus as he slowly strolled out of the town, everyone inside dead. The night sky was silent save for the crackling flames and the soft song that Cerberus whistled as he vanished into the obsidian black of night.
* * *
“We find the Demon in question, Cerberus, guilty,” The unseen voice boomed, erupting through the white sky, the only visible figure in the area was kneeled upon the ground, shackled and in chains.
“You are no God, Cerberus, and yet you saw fit to unleash a plague upon the world, killing millions,” The voice continued, Cerberus silent, emotionless. “For this you are sentenced to become the Guardian to the Gates of Hell – For eternity. Your abilities to travel through realms are here by stripped of you, and shall be sealed away in the Orb of Insight. Should the box be opened, and you released it shall be both a gift, and a curse.”
“Your fate will be tied to the Opener, you will be unable to harm them, or their family – and in return, their fate is tied to yours. I pray for the World, that you never be unleashed.”
Cerberus looked up into the face of God, his face an emotionless mask. “What is done is done, I regret nothing.” Cerberus replied, a small smirk crossing his lips. “The way I see it, everyone dies sooner or later – but I promise you, I will be back, and when I am…the Heavens will run red with your children’s blood.”
* * *
The soft footsteps clicked lightly against the dark colored stone floor, the only covering it held was a long, broad red carpet that fell two or three feet away from the narrow corridor walls. A single lantern lit the dank recesses, casting gloomy shadows in every direction - each one taking it's own shape and size. A delicate, yet firm hand wrapped slowly around a small golden door handle, twisted it, and slowly the door creaked open. Faint, but chilling noises escaped through the hallway, mutterings in ancient demon tongue, snake like and feral. Hesitating for a brief moment, the explorer took a tentative step into the massive room, the lantern illuminating an empty room - save for one simple object.
Placed carefully on a sturdy marble desk sat an enchanting chest. Nearly two feet long, as well as two feet tall, the chest held a Gothic tone - chilling, but beautiful. Contours laced it's flat lid, falling in and out like twisted coral, forming into the shape of a howling skull. The clasp itself was a carving of a Hell Hound skull, matching the taloned legs that held the chest up, as well as the two other Hound head carvings that jutted from the sides, serving as handles. The most peculiar thing about the chest was that it glowed with a fiery aura - black and red, like drying magma.
Hesitantly, the figure gripped the clasp - and pulled the lid up. A foul, black, near liquid mist broiled out, spilling across the floor. At first, the one who opened the box leaped back, however, when the mist had no ill effect, it moved slowly back to the box, peering inside with sincere curiosity. What was discovered, was not something they had expected. Reaching in, the figure slowly pulled out a small, dark colored ruby, perfect in every way. Flawless. Admiring the beauty of the gem, it was hardly noticed that the gem began to smolder - until it lightly burned the holder. Dropping the stone to the ground, the figure backed away as the ruby began to glow with the intensity of the fires of hell itself. The ground hissed as it gave way, the gem sinking down into the soil below the house, and even deeper still.
The air was thick with silence - although it did not last long. The ground trembled lightly, and a noise like wet tissue paper tearing filled the air. The figure barely had time to leap away, the lantern shattering as it hit the ground, falling into the chasm that slowly began to yawn wide in the large room. A demonic green light shone from the gaping maw, lighting the entire room with an eerie glow. The stillness of the air was broken as a festering, skeletal hand erupted from the crevice, gripping the edge of the ground with as much strength as it could possibly muster. The floor began to rot away where the bony fingers touched, and soon, the hand was followed by another.
Without hesitation, the two wrenched for the entire corpse like body with visible effort, collapsing to the ground on one knee, hunched over and struggling to obtain air with the lungs it did not possess. Standing slowly, the limbs jerking out at odd angles, twitching back and forth, it forced itself upright. The sound of snapping vertebrae echoed as the spine was forced upright, and a single, staggering step was taken as the chasm slowly sealed together as though nothing had happened. Now only illuminated by the sunlight that creaked through the vine infested window, a vile transformation began.
Arching back wards, head thrown up wards, veins erupted into formation. Dried up and empty, they snaked their way around the bones, winding up the body like hell sent serpents slowly choking the life out of helpless prey. Tissue, muscle, and tendons began to form as well, knitting to form a lithe, yet well muscled frame. Skin followed, flying up wards in a spider web manner, connecting here and there to conceal the gruesome and crude formation of innards. The same liquid black mist slowly wrapped around the creature, forming a set of obsidian black clothing.
The obviously male head lowered from looking straight up, looking forward with malevolent determination. Smooth, silken silver-white hair sprouted from the bald skull, draping down to shoulder length, partially pushed back, while the left side hung limp over his smooth, handsome features. While they held a tone of beauty, the features were carved with cruelty, malice, and a dark evil that had only been seen in the Devil himself. Feral, Ice Blue eyes pierced through the very soul of the one who had released him, who stood in total shock. A small smirk flitted across his thin lips, and he took another step forward, the loose black clothing moving in time with his every motion. His hand moved forward in a liquid like manner, graceful and filled with purpose.
To strangle the life out of the being before him.
The long, pale nails that speared forward from his fingertips stopped, inches away from the beings face. His smirk was replaced with a light frown, his eyes narrowing with malice. He could not touch the Girl. Yes, the figure was female, that was apparent...from her aura, she was also no mortal. Still, He had slaughtered many in his hundreds of thousands years of life, both mortal and immortal alike - and yet, here he found himself incapable of even touching this girl.
He decided to take a different approach, although he inwardly relished the fear that he saw in her eyes. Taking away all hazardous thoughts, he lightly placed a hand down on her shoulder, then let his hand slide back down to his side. So, he could touch her - but not if he intended harm. What was this magic? Every fiber of his being longed to kill her where she stood, and yet, he was powerless to do so.
He would simply have to wait.
"Where am I?" He questioned without introduction or preamble. His voice was soft, and yet it held an edge to it, chilling and cold. He stepped further into the light, his entire body now illuminated in the warm sunlight.
And so it was, after nearly 200,000 years of Imprisonment from the Mortal World, Cerberus, the Guardian of Hell, Lord of the Dead had been unleashed. Perhaps it was fate that he was to be stationed in the one house that could contain him - perhaps it was coincidence, but one way or another, he would have to adapt - Or someone was going to die...be it similar to the last time he was free to roam the earth - Millions of Lives were now held in the hands of the Giovanni's.
Known Affiliations:
Fury
One of the three Gorgon Sisters, little is known about Fury, or what she has to do with Cerberus - only that he meets with her on frequent occasions.
Adara Giovanni
The only known being capable of controlling Cerberus, as well as the only known "Holy" being that he regards with respect. Through a twist of fate, Adara Giovanni discovered Ceberus' prison, Pandora's Box, and released him. Despite his own murderous and unstable personality, he has found a special place of regard for her, and does as she wishes.
Sometimes.