The Twilight was fading fast, as was Tezuka's reach along with it. And still he had no found any of them. Not a single one. He stopped a top a building, angry with himself. But then, it wasn't really his fault. Even though his powers had almost completely returned, that didn't mean he'd be able to find the Reapers straight away. He sighed, looking down at the dark alleys below him. Nothing stirred.

He lay on his back, looking up at the stars that had begun to make their way into the sky, thinking. He wondered what the others would be like. Twenty years had passed since the night they had been slaughtered.

A flash of recognition flickered through his head. He felt two presences nearby. One human. The other was not. He sat up quickly, pulling out a small rod, no more than seven inches in length. At a distance, it looked a lot like a magic wand from the Harry Potter movies. Until of course it expanded, a long, curved blade protruding from the top.

The scythe took it's form. With a wry smile, he leaped off of the building, hitting the ground on his feet some thirty feet below. He was going Demon hunting. He closed his eyes for a second, concentrating. A shadowy copy of himself appeared next to him, wavering for a second, before becoming solid. He looked at his copy, who stared blankly at him. "Search for the others."

The copy nodded silently, and ran off in the direction opposite of the Demon. Tezuka turned back, heading of in the direction his senses led him. He began to pick up signs on the Demon. It was large, and lizard-like. He sighed. "A Hexon...I'm definitely near a Reaper then..." He said softly.

A Hexon Demon was made for tracking. They were fast, nimble, and had poison-laced claws. Tezuka knew he had to find either the Reaper before the Demon found them. He began winding his way through the dark, trying to locate the slow-moving presence. Suddenly, the Hexon took off. "Shit..." Tezuka muttered. The Demon had located the Reaper. He took off, following the Demon's direction.

He didn't expect it, but he turned a corner, knowing he was getting closer, when he nearly ran head-long into a blond male with startlingly silver eyes. As soon as they made eye contact, Tezuka recognized him. His reflexes took over, making him freeze and then spin to the right to avoid a collision with him. He was...

"Air Reaper..." Tezuka said softly. He wasn't focusing on the boy, rather, his gaze met the Hexon Demons'. The lizard-like creature snarled at the sight of Tezuka. It knew it was in trouble. Tezuka grinned. "Hey Ugly...let's dance."

He leaped into the air as the Demon clawed at him, landing on it's arm, and sliced downward. The Hexon let out a gruesome howl as it's arm lay at Tezuka's feet, dark black blood oozing it's way onto the ground. Tezuka used the momentum of his fall to propel himself forward, slicing through the Demons' body, effectively killing it. Though admittedly, it was slightly messy. The blood that sprayed from it's severed body covered Tezuka from nearly head to toe as he turned, staring at the Reaper in front of him with an emotionless expression.

His grey eyes flickered slightly as he spoke. "Welcome back, Air Reaper." As he spoke, the Demon's body slowly began to crystallize, and once it was done, it shattered, scattering the alleyway with black powder.

Sinéad Knight

She was shaking; her arms were pulled into her chest, hands clasped together. It was quiet, the set had begun its decent into the Eastern horizons and night was approaching far too fast for her tastes. Sinéad didn’t like this, no, she hated the night and what it brought. Yet, here she was, wandering about the back alleys of the city aimlessly; hopelessly lost in her own hometown. Pathetic to think about, at least in her mind it was. She was raised to have better sense than this; far better sense. Her father had always taught her that she should never wander the city after dark if she were alone.

A proper lady would never do that after all. It was considered bad manners, and it spoke levels about a woman and her activities, there was no telling what sort of shenanigans a girl got up to after the sun went to bed! Oh, her parents were going to be so livid when she got home tonight. She had disregarded their lessons, and they would not be happy, no, no, no. . . . As if that wasn’t bad enough, her arms were tingling again; painfully so.

Normally Sinéad could bear with the sensation of pins and needles without a single problem, normally it never hurt, it was just that awkward sort of feeling one gets when they sit upon their feet or a hand for too long. However, right now, it felt like her arms were almost on fire, wave after wave of the sensation kept barraging her arms, falling into a rhythm with her heart’s beating. Tonight, it felt like needles were being jammed harshly into her flesh instead of just scraping on by. And it was getting to be too much for her to take anymore.

She did not have the highest threshold for pain.

Yet still, her mouth remained shut, her eyes remained cast down to the pavement in front of her feet as the sky darkened above her head. No matter the pain, it wasn’t as if she could cry out about it, there was physically nothing there that was causing the discomfort. She would be labelled as crazy again if she spoke out about it, and sent right into a hospital just like when she had been a child, regarding her hallucinations. I will not go back there, not ever again.

The heels of Sinéad’s boots clicked against the asphalt as she meandered along, lost in her own mind. It was the resounding, metallic echo of an old trashcan being knocked to the ground that wrenched the girl from her thoughts. Her head shot up instantly as she froze in place. Her heart began to flutter in her chest; the tingling in her arms grew worse. Something was wrong, very wrong. She could feel it. Sinéad did her best to control her breathing as she slowly craned her neck around looking in complete disorder for whatever had knocked the trashcan down. “Who is there?” she called out.

Then, something skittered on by, hiding itself in the shadows. Sinéad looked in its direction, only to catch a glimpse of . . . Did . . . did I just see a reptilian tail? Her eyes widened a bit as her heart seemed to sink into her gullet. Something inside of her was screaming to run, to get out of there as soon as she could; that thing was privy to information she was not it seemed. That mere glimpse of a tail was enough to set off a barrage of alarm bells in the tiny woman’s skull.

“I would do best to leave I think. . . .” she muttered quietly, taking a step backward before doing an about face and turning herself in the opposite direction. Just as Sinéad was about to take off into a sprint, she heard a hiss. She swallowed hard, as her ears seemed to begin ringing as terror over took her small body, the tingling in her arms continued. Sinéad saw its head first, it was almost like the head of a snake, but not quite. . .

I am imagining things again, I have to just be imagining this! she thought, taking a tentative step back. Sinéad kept telling herself that this was just a hallucination, that had to be all this creature was; but that didn’t stop her from being filled with mortal terror as the beast bellowed out a horrible noise, and leapt at her.

Sinéad screamed out, dropped to the ground while covering her head with one of her arms, and holding her other hand out at the monster to try and keep it from her. “Do not touch me!!” she screamed, and with that, her heart leapt into her throat and it felt like something surged through her tiny body; a current of sorts, like something was alive within her flesh. She felt it run through her, going right through her outreach arm; and exiting through her fingertips.

In panic, Sinéad looked up when she heard the lizard-like monster howl out in pain. Parts of it seemed to be charred, burnt almost as it crumbled to the ground. Sinéad simply sat where she was, staring at it, and trying to understand what had just happened.

As the Replicate stood atop the building, he was impressed with how the female handled herself. True, she had screamed, raised a fuss, and had also alerted her position to anything else that could be wandering the dark alleyways, the quickness with which she had drawn upon her powers was interesting. Takeing out his scythe, the copy took one step, falling off the roof feet-first.

As he fell, he spun in the air, driving the blade of the scythe straight through the Hexon Demon's skull, making sure it was dead. He never touched the ground. Instead, he spun again, hauling himself upward, landing on the blade of the scythe. He stood there, standing straight, and stuck his hands in his pockets. He looked the girl over.

The female before him was rather short, he knew that if he were standing in front of her he would tower over her well more than a foot. She had silky black hair that hung down near her waist, and a soft face, pale complexion, offset by bright blue eyes. Her face was marred by fear and confusion, betraying her fleeting thoughts of wanting to turn and run.

All the while he was staring at her, the Tezuka Replicate took in her memories. They were filled with pain, sorrow, loneliness, self-doubt. He frowned slightly. Sinead Knight was her name now. "Run if you like, but know that you cannot run from destiny, Sinead Knight, Reaper of Light. Those "hallucinations" you have experienced are not such. They are memories. The beast you encountered and managed to kill is a Demon, known as a Hexon. I am Tezuka Walker, Reaper of Null. Search those memories, and you will know I speak the truth." He paused, watching her reaction, which was one of disbelief, and he chuckled slightly at her thought that he was a "crazed stalker".

"No...I can just read you mind, that's all. Know this: you may run now if you wish, I will not stop you. But know that if you do, now that you have seen me once, you will forever be drawn back to me. As Reapers, it is our job to protect humans from Demons such as this."

He paused again, as the Demon had begun to crystallize, and then shatter. As it did, scattering black powder everywhere, the Replicate reached down and grabbed the handle of the scythe, spinning in mid-air and landing on his feet.

"There are seven of us in total. Air, Earth, Water, Fire, Light, Darkness, and myself, Null. You are Light." His grey eyes watched her closely before asking a simple question.

"Now that I have told you, what will you do with this knowledge, Sinead?"

Britney watched through the eyes of a dark gothic girl just like herself, Lillian Hempton. This was basically normal for Brit, seeing other people’s experiences in her dreams. But she only saw the view of numerous people like her, and the same power, but more powerful. To her they were dreams, weird dreams which she had no idea why she was having them, but didn't care, they were like a movie, and loved them. But they were actually memories of previous lives, of other Reapers of Darkness. So yeah, she is now the chosen Reaper of Darkness, but doesn't know.

Now Britney watched as Lillian walked through the road, right before the time of night, which Britney and Lillian both agreed on, along with dark colors and much other stuff. As Dark watched from Lilia’s view, she followed behind someone who had no emotion, who she knew as Tezuka, but didn't really know about the Reapers. But next thing Lilia knew was that some huge reptilian-robotic creature dropped down from a rooftop and started swinging a chain around. The creature went after Tezuka, but Tez stepped out of the away, allowing it to hit Lillian and allowing it to her, and didn't even check on her, she died slowly from bleeding.

Brit woke up and stood up, right as it was beginning to become night time. Ah, just about 10 more minutes I suspect, then it will be nice and cool, along with dark outside. She said as she put on her boots and looked around, she was still in an old construction site. This is where Dark spent most of her day, day time that is, at night; she did all her normal stuff anyone else would do during the day. Eat, play, and do all that other stuff, but all Britney did was eat and walk around ignoring people, and getting what she needed.

Creeping in the shadows of the construction site, were two creatures, demons. But they weren’t Mystery and Blasphemy, the big demons, no they were just lesser ones, but still dangerous, sent by Mystery and Blasphemy. They were dog like demons, but not really, they were like hydra-like dogs, two heads, with really sharp teeth, and it’s claws aren’t normal, they are like knifes, blades. Also their tail’s weren’t normal, they seemed like they had needle like fur, but only on the tails.

As Dark walked past a small cement block, one of the dog like demons jumped out and tackled her to the ground, and into the shadows. “Ah! Get off!” Dark yelled, she was getting pissed off, she closed her eyes and she just thought about the dreams she always had, and how they had powers which seemed like the hallucinations she always saw, along with other people. Maybe it’s real… She thought, then moving her hands raising up a blur that then pushed the demon off of her and covering it and disappearing.

When Britney opened her eyes, she couldn’t think clearly. “So I’m like Lillian, that’s why I see her view, maybe it’s the future?” She said to herself, while another dog stalked her, and snuck up behind her and tackled her, like the other one. This time it got off of her right after and starting growling with both of its heads. Dark couldn’t focus to do what’s he just did, so she looked around for anything she could use, and spotted a chain, and slowly slipped her hand over to it and got a good grip and waited for the dog demon to attack.

As the dog jumped and landed with its paws over Brit’s arms, she spotted its claws come out like blades on wolverine, but then didn't hesitate to whip the chain around quickly and wrap it not just around one head, but both, along with knocking them down, but not without getting a nasty cut on her stomach and left arm. With adrenaline, she quickly pulled the chain, which broke the necks on the dogs, but not killing them. But luckily in doing so, it hit the nearby iron pole making it fall across their heads, smashing then. “Ok, now I know I must be like Lillian, so these things wi-”

Britney then fell over, actually more like pass out. She had lost tons of blood within seconds from the deep cuts from the claws’ of the demons. So now she would just lay their unconscious, with the chains wrapped around her left hand, which is a conquincidence, because it was the same weapon that Lillian sometimes used. Oh and also, while being unconscious, she would miss her favorite time of day, night.

She didn’t know how to respond. Tezuka’s words sank in, but they didn’t have any meaning to her, she just didn’t know what to say to them, she . . . she felt sort of, sort of dizzy to say the least. Sinead sat where she was, quietly, staring at the pavement underneath her, and it occurred to her that she had not been breathing since . . . that monster, a Hexon, had attempted to assault her. So she began to consciously bring oxygen back into her lungs, taking deep and measured breaths, focusing on that solely as her mind tried to make sense of the information she had just been given, and the fact that one of her hallucinations had just outright attacked her.

. . . .hallucination? H-He said something about my hallucinations, about them truly being memories of former lives, that I was a Reaper? Sinéad shut her eyes, placed a hand on the side of her cranium and let out a small moan as she shook it a bit. She just didn’t understand! He said I would know he spoke the truth if I looked into my ‘memories?’ Sinéad looked at Tezuka’s face, and as she did a pang of familiarity ran through her body. He was most familiar; she had seen him in her hallucinations before. She looked back to the ground, a single hollow laugh wandered up from her diaphragm. “As Millicent Snow. That is the name of the one who knew you.” She said softly. “Like myself; she had an affinity for giving nicknames to those around her, did she not? Millicent addressed you as ‘Zuzu.’”

An empty smile happened upon Sinéad’s face as she came to one truth regarding this, what she was seeing now, and what was going around her. She looked up to the darkening sky, “It would seem that normality is something that escapes me.” She said simply, getting herself to her feet. “All that has transpired here is simply my imagination; it would seem my schizophrenia has grown beyond the capabilities of my medicines. Mother and Father will not be pleased to learn this. . . .”

That had to be it, it had to be her schizophrenia again. Things seemed to have gotten worse; it had developed to the point of filling her mind with hallucinations that interacted with her, that affected her far more than they ever had before. The demon, Tezuka, all of these things was just in her mind. She had seen Tezuka before, and now her mind was simply pulling figures out of those things she had seen before and projecting them before her as if they were entities separate from her. Sinéad knew better though, this was just one of the things schizophrenics dealt with when their medicines stopped working. I have to go see the doctor again, I do not wish to, but I cannot wander about like this, not being able to tell between that which is real and is not.

Again, she was going to be an embarrassment to her parents, and all because she couldn’t control her own mind, her own imagination. She knew that they hated the fact that they had a certifiably insane daughter; that was why they raised her to suppress everything, to be as she was. That way she could, at the very least, feign some level of normalcy. Those blue eyes of hers quickly dulled and became vacant to the world as Sinéad turned around, facing away from the Tezuka Replicate, and slowly began to walk home, certain she had gone utterly crackers again.

The only thing that really mattered to her though, was how upset her parents were going to be. There wasn’t anything remarkable about her, Sinéad knew this, she was just a tiny little woman who happened to have schizophrenia.

Vitane lounged on the wood of a park bench, her leg lazily sat atop her knee. Her violet orbs were darting between the few humans that occupied the space around her. A light giggle erupted from her throat and she couldn't decide which one would make a better victim.

She hopped off of her seat and sauntered towards a middle-aged man, she could feel his steady pulse and blood pumping under her feet through the ground. She tried to make the most innocent looking face she could manage, her eyebrows lowered to show desperation and her bottom lip slightly pursed to make it look like an equally good sad face.
"Sir," She said, barely above a whisper. The male turned slowly, his eyes landing on her, following her curves to view every one of her features.
"I could really use some help, you see, my car broke down right over there. I was wondering if you could take a quick look for me." She began to shrug, adding a good act to this little scheme. "I have no idea what to do about cars, my daddy usually does all of this kinda stuff for me."
He looked back up to her eyes and stared into them a little longer then seemed necessary, but then he rolled back on the balls of his feet, obviously taken aback.
"Whoa, sorry, your eyes....They're stunning."

Vitane felt her cheeks redden after he stated that, she put a hand up to cover her lips to act a bit embarrased by this, her eyelashes fluttering.
"Oh, why thank you very much." He nodded and then responded,
"Yeah, I could take a look, I mean, I ain't that good at car shit either, but a different set of eyes could make all the difference." He rubbed the back of his neck before gesturing for her to lead the way to her automobile which she glady strutted in front of him, being sure to wiggle her hips a bit extra just to tease the soul that would soon be devoured.

She coaxed him away from the park and all other watching eyes, going down an alleyway that was close by, a mustang parked on the side. Of course, it was not her car.
She stopped at the edge of the alley, motioning with a single hooked finger that this was the right direction.
He smiled and stepped into the darkness with the Queen, his gaze focused on the machine in question. She stepped around him, looking him up and down through slitted eyes, a smrik present. She had perfect vision and she was waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
He asked if she would pop the hood and without effort at all she unlatched it with her mind. He took out his cell phone and began to browse over the pieces that she wouldn't even begin to be able and understand.
He began to lean away, his head snapping towards her, but she was no longer where she had just been.
"...Miss?" Was all that he managed before she slammed a hand into his face. Her fist coliding with his skull, getting a few good hits in before he could even realize what was happening to him. He was now laying on the ground, labored breaths were the only thing coming out of his mouth now.

With a flick of her wrist, she sliced through him with her powers and he was silenced. She laughed alloud, a cackle, more or less and his soul was visible. She captured it, sucking it up through between her teeth and grinning like a maniac after the ritual was completed. This was just too fun for her.

Michael Bonnefoy

It was easy to smile when all you could see in front of you were a bunch of flashing light, and all you could hear were the sounds of cheering, of screaming, the noise all fading together into a dull throb in the back of your head. It helped when you had spent the last nineteen years of your life preparing for that one moment, the moment when everyone's eyes were on you, ready to tear you apart at a moment's notice for the smallest things. And that included the smallest of things, from your body size to your smile, which would show off just how white your teeth were... And God help anyone who didn't have white enough teeth, or a dazzling enough smile. Hair carefully styled so the ends just curled around his neck and fell down, circling his pale throat like the claws of some wild animal, Michael smiled at the crowd.

The smile was careful, controlled; he was better than them and he knew it. After all, he was wearing the latest hit and had the world's eyes on him, so what wasn't there to like? His strut was perfect, down to the slightest shake of his shoulders as he walked, and the way he would turn his head slowly, and bat his eyes at the cameras. Yes, this is going to be on the front page, he decided as someone screamed his name. Was it a girl? Boy? Who knew? It all blended together. He couldn't have picked anyone of the people out of a line-up, though he could pose for photos with all of them.

"And look at those eyes! Michael Bonnefoy, everybody!" You'd think it would be a little awkward to be modeling your father's clothes, but it was easy work and most of it went well with his small frame and graceful walk. That was one thing that he'd never be able to do; the large, buff men on the cover of some skimpy magazine would never be him. Not like he minded. Being 'in' was much better; after all, did it really matter why people stared at you? Well, as long as it was for a good reason... That was the only attention he didn't like, after all. The negative kind.

"Bonjour, Amérique!" He shouted as he reached the end of the runway, holding up a hand and giving the crowd a wave. You wanted to seem friendly, kind, and beautiful. The person everyone wanted to bring home to their parents, because there could never, and would never, be anyone else like you. In a world where your personality could be a deal-maker or breaker, you did everything you could to stay on top. Michael knew that just as well as the next, if not more so. Nineteen years had their uses, after all.

"You're on in ten," someone shouted as he arrived in the back, narrowly avoiding getting his head taken off by someone's prop... Really, the things you saw at the back of a fashion show. It was more interesting in the back than the front, that much Michael was sure of. "You did awesome," a woman told him, one with pretty blue eyes and long blond hair. And, as most males would probably like to know, huge D cups. At least. Michael gave her his smile and nodded. Really? She's pretty, but probably a sixty, at best, and that's only because of the make-up and clothes, he thought to himself. Still, it was never a good idea to piss off another model in the back of a show. He learned that relatively quickly.

Michael let out a sigh as he got into his dressing room, quickly peeling off the clothes and hanging them on the mannequin, knowing he had maybe five more minutes until he'd have to go on. And my make-up needs to get touched-up soon, he reminded himself. All of this pressure made him sweat, and that was never something you wanted to have.

This is going to be a long night.

---

While he was tired after a night of work, Michael decided to skip his usual limo ride and told his driver to let him off a few blocks from his apartment, so he could walk along and give himself some time to think before he went into his nightly routine (which he had down to a 'T'). The man had seemed a little skeptical, but Michael assured him that two years of self-defense lessons were not just for show and soon found himself walking along an empty road, the darkness broken by the yellow street lights, a few of which needed to get repaired.

"And this is supposed to be the good part of town," Michael muttered. He shivered against the cold, his jacket barely protecting him against the nightly chill. It was probably just because he was tired. He had to get home soon, then. If he got sick then he'd loose a lot of jobs, and reliability was one of the things he prized... After all, a model had to be available as much as possible, to get his or her name out as the best one around... "Mon Dieu... I really need to think of other things." He sighed. Modeling was his life, quite literally. He didn't know the last time he was with friends.

Who am I kidding? I have no friends. Michael shook his head as he continued walking, not really paying attention to his surroundings. His parents thought they were distractions, especially after The Incident (here he shivered; even thinking about it made him feel ill). Thus, no friends. Besides, he had too much to do... He didn't have any time to be with others, unless it was for a fitting or to talk about a job or two. Then he had time. Yes, he had plenty of time for modeling. Ironically, it was maybe the one thing he wished he had no time to do.

It wasn't like it was hard... Well, it was, but he could handle it. No, the stress and the sheer amount of paranoia about his appearance was what got to him. Without meaning to, Michael had started to twirl a piece of hair on a finger. It was a bad habit, something he did when he was nervous. He swallowed and stopped, making a mental note to take something to calm himself down when he got home. A few more pills wouldn't hurt, after all. It wasn't like he would get another over-dose... No, he was a lot more careful now. A visit to the hospital was never a good thing, model or not.

"Merde!" Michael shouted as he turned a corner, almost running into someone. They met eye contact, and Michael saw a flash of recognition in the male's eyes. The male in question managed to turn out of the way, though Michael almost fell over from shock. "Qu'est-ce?!" It was a quiet neighborhood, and he wasn't used to running into people. Besides, they weren't usually dressed like... Well, so much like a teenaged Goth. "Air Reaper..." The boy said, to the confusion of Michael. Was that supposed to mean something? Then he heard something snarl from behind him, and Michael realized things were about to get a lot worse. "Hey Ugly...let's dance." Michael only barely resisted letting out a scream when the stranger pulled a scythe out of nowhere, attacking the... Lizard, thing, and killing it with a slice through the body.

He jumped back as a spray of blood narrowly missed him. Even in his near panic-attack, his body instinctively kept the clothes out of danger. When it was over, the stranger was covered in blood, eyes flickering as he looked at Michael again. As he spoke, the monster's body disappeared into crystals. "Welcome back, Air Reaper." There was a pause while Michael took in the stranger. His clothes, soaked in blood (alongside his whole body). His messy hair, his make-up that obviously had been done early in the morning or had gone under stress, because it was not put on very well. Lastly, the scars covering his body. Now, a few scars could accent a certain feature or give a rugged look to a person. Too many and you lost serious points on Michael's scale.

"Vous êtes un vingt!" He shouted before he could stop himself. "Vos vêtements! Ce sont horribles!" Michael blinked, realizing he was shouting in French. That was bad... Then again, maybe the stranger didn't understand him? "Mon Dieu! What was that?" Michael asked, trembling from fear or adrenaline. He was torn between running for his life or staying. After all, if the stranger hadn't killed him yet... Ok, that was really bad logic. Like, absolutely terrible logic that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. This was not turning out to be a great night for him.

"Who are you?" Michael asked, calming down a little.

For as much as five seconds, Tezuka stared at him. This boy was a wonder. His mind was a complete jumble, and he could make sense of little other than he spoke french, he was a model, and he didn't seem to have any sort of recollection of his past lives up to this point. Of course, as scatter-brained as he was at this point, Tezuka truly couldn't tell.

"Est-ce que mon âge et de la façon dont je robe véritablement question que beaucoup, Michael? Bien que, je suppose dans cette vie, d'apparence semble de peu d'importance pour vous." He replyed to the boy in front him in the same tounge, and then proceeded to wince. "Please, will you calm the whirlwind in your head?"

He put a hand to his forehead. This was destined to be an interesting night. "My name is Tezuka Walker, though you might recognize me better as the Null Reaper. You are the Reaper of Air, and you are not human." He paused again, and yet again winced as Michael went into a tyrade of frenzied thoughts. "And no, I am not a stalker...I am a mind reader. You would know this if you would just accept the memories I know lay dormant within your mind."

His grey eyes glistened in the darkened alleyway as he watched the blond boy in front of him. He wasn't surprised at all by his reaction, the Air Reaper was very prone to over reactions, as it was in his nature.

~+~+~+~+~

The Replicate sighed as Sinead walked away. He would have to deal with her later, but he called after her before she disappeared completely into the darkness, "Reapers aren't human, we don't live by their rules, Sinead."

Another presence had struck him as he had been waiting on her reaction, and then faded, like a candle being snuffed in the darkness.

Darkness....

He let his senses guide him, leading him to the crystallized remains of a Cerebus Demon and a young woman who lay passed out on the concrete. He immediately recognized her as the Reaper of Darkness. Flipping her onto her back, he inspected her wounds, which were already healing due to the Reapers' poweres of regeneration. She would be fine.

With that in mind, the Replicate picked the woman up, carrying her through the dark alleys and backstreets, past drunks, stray dogs, rats, and homeless, all the way to a very large apartment building. He walked in the door with her in his arms, where the footman greeted him. "Master Walker." The boy nodded, and took the elevator to the top floor.

He carried her into a very large and very spacious Loft, laying her on one of the couches in the living room. He scanned her mind, once again meeting that familiar jealousy and hatred that he knew so well. Why Darkness hated Null, Tezuka neither knew nor cared. He paced about the Loft for a few minuets. His original was still with the Air Reaper.

The Replicate sighed. He couldn't very well disappate, as he couldn't leave Darkness alone. "Why the hell do I get stuck with babysitting?" He muttered.

Luna gripped the counter as tremor passed through her. She was taken back to a scene where she was still herself, and yet in another form. She felt so happy. Luna took in a breath of air and smelled the sea. She smiled as she watched the water around her glistening with reflections from the sun. Luna threw back her head and laughed as a wave crashed against the rock. She smiled and a voice from behind grumbled at her, "Are you done sightseeing? We have to go already." Luna was turning, a growl forming on her lips directed at-

Luna was back in her kitchen being shook by Mary who was staring at her concerned. Luna let out a slow breath as she slowly recovered from her most recent hallucination. She breathed in and out slowly. She blinked rapidly a few times before looking up at Mary and giving her a faint smile to show that she was okay.

Mary let out a sigh of relief and say worriedly, "What's wrong Luna, that was the third time you've hallucinated in this hour."

Luna sighed and leaned against the counter top, "I don't know. It's not just how many hallucinations, but they're different then they normally are. Normally they're jarring and involve a lot of fighting. But all of today they've become smoother, happier, and people are in them."

The mention of people caught Mary's attention, "People? Did you see who it was?"

Luna shook her head slowly, "No, I never manage to see their face, or catch their names. Hey, do you mind if I go for a walk?"

Mary nodded, "Of course, just remember to be careful."

Luna nodded sagely, "Yeah, I know. Besides, if something tries to hurt me I'll just try snap into a hallucination and go all crazy water girl on them." Luna didn't wait for a response, she just picked up her favorite pair of gloves and a scarf from the table before trudging outside. Luna hung her hands loosely at her sides, swinging them back and forth as she walked. She didn't plan as to where she was going, she just followed the path that her feet made for her.

Luna began to hum contentedly as she walked along, she could see why her hallucinations were becoming happy at now of all times. After all, it was such a beautiful, and peaceful, night. Luna rounded a corner and almost laughed out loud when she discovered where her feet had led her. She was standing in front of her swim club. The florescent lights remained on despite the fact that the club was closed and Luna watched the stillness of the pool. A frown found it's way onto her face as she watched the unmoving water. It bothered her to see the water like that, so calm and stagnant. Luna became increasingly angry as she watched the still water. Luna's humming stopped and now she was just trying to take deep breaths and calm herself down. Suddenly a geyser burt up in the middle of the pool, before quickly disappearing.

"Shit, " Luna muttered. She began to walk away form the pool quickly, wishing she had some pockets to stick her hands in. Luna was sure all the strange water incidents that happened around herself had to be caused by her. She and May had tried training, but without knowing exactly what was happening it hadn't worked to well.

Luna stopped when she realized that she no longer knew where she was. She spun briefly in a circle and chose quickly to take the street to her left. She followed the street for a few blocks before realizing it was leading her to nowhere she knew. She headed back along the street to the original place where she had discover she was lost. Luna stared at the three remaining street options before deciding to plop down on a bench. She closed her eyes and leaned back, taking a moment to jus relax. She didn't notice something in the shadows behind her moving.

Sinéad halted when she heard what her hallucination had said to her. Even though she knew that none of this was real, that everything was just in her head, she couldn’t help but looking behind her for just a moment. The truth was, she sort of wished that she weren’t human, but she was, and she knew it. The hallucinations, Tezuka, he was gone as she looked back. She stood still, and blinked, even knowing that someone was not listening to her, she spoke, “Rule and law, they are the only things which provide me with stability, they are all I may rely on. . . .” her voice echoed softly against the empty alleyway, the trashcan that had been knocked over remained on its side, rattling as a gust of air travelled along.

When it hit Sinéad, she squinted a bit, drew her arms up and wrapped them around her small diaphragm as a shudder of cold ran up her spine. Her hair fluttered along with the breeze, the sudden wind made her feel hollow, empty on the inside as it chilled her flesh. There is nothing else I can rely on but rules, I hallucinate, and thus, they are all I can be certain of. Sinéad turned around, and began her trek home, going with the wind. She was getting worse as the years tolled on and on; she was still pulled back into visions of times and places that were not real, she saw fiends of all sorts that did not exist, and now her mind was projecting people out of her head that interacted with her. And she couldn’t even tell whether they were real or not!!

Had she not known that hallucination’s face from her preceding visions, then she would have been inclined to give credence to what had been said to her, and to believe that she really had just nearly been done in by a demon. It is not the truth though, all of this is just my mind, my schizophrenia again. . . . she shook her head. Sinéad was not sure how much longer she could go on like this, she was little more than a imperfection on her family’s name, she was the psychotic cousin, the child no one wanted anything to do with at family congregations because they knew her history and her story. Her parents stuttered when asked about how she was doing, about how things were going with her health, and they would lie.
Her mother and father would lie to those who cared enough to ask and say that Sinéad had grown out of her problems long ago, that she was completely normal now. Yet even with those taradiddles, she was avoided like the Bubonic plague, perhaps everyone thought insanity was contagious. She was simply a weight upon the shoulders of her parents, a burden, and she knew it. Sinéad knew it and had known that for the majority of her adolescent life, yet she struggled onward every day. Why?

Why was it that she wobbled on through each and every day like she did? Sinéad was aware of the death and survival rates of those like herself; those stricken with the Hellish disorder of schizophrenia, and they were not good numbers. Many of the deaths were not of natural causes either, nor accidents. . . . Nevertheless, she had not become a statistic yet, simply because she was too anxious to attempt such a thing. Because I am frightened, I choose to live; scarcely surviving while tilting upon the verge, I act as my parents desire to ease the burden I place upon them with every breath I draw. It is all I may do for anyone who should come into my life. The streetlights above Sinéad suddenly flickered to life as the last of the day’s light faded from the city, leaving the skies dark and littered with stars.

She would be home soon; she would face her mother and her father, then be made to explain why it was she was so late coming home. And for that, she had no reason but her own consuming insanity. It would not be something her parents would wish to hear, but it was the only truth she had. They will not be happy. I am not happy. . . . For the remainder of her trek home Sinéad thought about nothing more than the sounds of her heels hitting the cement below her, she paid no heed to her surroundings, the people who passed by her as they hurried on with their lives. The cars that drove passed, her eyes did not squint up at the brilliance of their headlights, she simply reacted to nothing.

At last, she made it to the entrance of the place she referred to as ‘home.’ She stopped in front of the house, a light was on in the living room window; probably her father smoking his pipe and reading a book or the newspaper while her mother was cleaning up dinner and preparing for bed. Sure, she called this place home, but only by the dictionary definition, it was the place in which her physical self resided, but that’s all it was. Her heart had no place to seek solace here, no place for comfort. It did not see this house as home, just as a place to sleep.

Another breeze stirred up, blowing a few stray leaves along the sidewalk in a twisting, circling dance. What was she going to say to them? Just speaking of her hallucinations, at all, that would only make them angry, upset, and give them unnecessary stress. I . . . I cannot hide this truth from them, even if it should mean my admittance to a hospital again, it must be done if I am to be as normal as possible. Sinéad’s eyelids lowered as she felt herself receding as deep into her mind as possible, she tried to anaesthetized herself, give off as little emotion as she could. It would be easier this way; if she could just shut it all away for now, then her own fear wouldn’t hinder her.

Slowly, she took steps toward the door, set her small hand upon the handle and turned it, walking into a mass of air that smelled of cinnamon and pipe tobacco. Her mother’s insistence upon potpourri being place in every room to try to hide the scent of the smoke created this unique scent. . . . “I, I am home,” She announced, voicing ringing hollow, shutting the door behind her quietly.

Sinéad stood where she was, waiting for the telltale and predictable crumpling of a newspaper, or the slamming of a hardback bound book. It was the former this time, her father’s booming footsteps approaching shortly after; he was angry.

Through the hallway, a large man came for her, his hair was thick, combed neatly into a part as it revealed that it was rapidly greying from a deep black color. His face showed deep lines, worry lines, crow’s feet and frown lines around his mouth, which were only further emphasized by the fact he had a scowl upon his aging face. Yes; this was the one Sinéad referred to as her father; Dexter Knight. He stood before her, his arms crossed, as his legs were stiff and slightly apart as he waited quiet for her to a explain herself.

Oh, she knew this routine quite well. Sinéad lifted her head to look him in the eyes, his azure eyes boring right through her, nothing but embitterment in them at the fact his daughter couldn’t seem to do one thing right. She knew what to do here; clasping her hands at the front of her hips, Sinéad bowed before him and uttered a monotonous, “I am sorry.”

“You had better be! You’re late getting home, you know you aren’t suppose to be out after dark Sinéad!” he shouted, his voice harsh. Yet Sinéad did not wince as she remained bent before him, she was too used to doing this. His voice did not frighten her. “Stand up and look me in the eye, now!” he demanded, and so she obliged.

“You have the gull to miss dinner, show up home after dark, and to top it off, you come home filthy and covered in grime! Look at you! Your whole front is black!” Dexter pointed at Sinéad accusingly, yet as soon as she heard her father’s words, her front dirty. . . ?

How could I be . . . I may have dove to the ground, but only my shins would be. . . . she thought, blocking her father’s chidings and shouts out of her head as her eyes widened a bit, and she slowly looked down at the front of her dress. Sinéad’s heart skipped but a beat as her breath hitched in her throat. Her whole front was dirty; black. With this, her mind flashed back to that alleyway, that thing she had conceived as a hallucination, it had decayed into a black substance and dissipated into the air around itself. She had been close to it; but she only thought it something of her mind’s doing. . . . Yet, here I stand before my father who is clearly able to perceive it as I am. This . . . this would mean. . . .

The realization of this, knowing that this was, what had happened. . . . Knowing that it was not a product of her mind, made Sinéad feel dizzy. She began to question everything now, everything she had seen, experienced and those hallucinations . . . were they really just that? Tezuka . . . he was real? All of this? Was all of this real? Was she not human, and was she not crazy? Her whole life seemed to have been flipped on its head; everything she had gone through seemed to have changed simply because the front of her body was covered in black dirt. Something so simple could be so very changing.

Her father had continued on his tirade about how Sinéad was misbehaving, and about how she was not listening to him or her mother, but all Sinéad wanted to do was cry, cry from shock, and cry from the knowledge that she may not be insane. The woman wanted to weep over everything she had lost in her life because of something that she couldn’t control, because of something that no one but that Tezuka man seemed to understand. Even if she had been taught to suppress her tears, there was just no holding this bout back.

Sinéad’s hand flew to her mouth as she held back a sob, her eyes shut as tears pricked at her eyes. Something in her felt like it had just been unlocked, as if she had just been freed from something utterly horrible, from a weight that never seemed to relent in holding her down. “I-I am sorry father, but may I ask to be excused to my room?” she asked quietly, not waiting for permission from the man, Sinéad darted on passed him and up the stairs to her room. She shut the door behind her, locking it as she pressed her back against the white painted wood.

In she took a rather shaky breath, pressing her hand over her eyes, her mouth opened as a sob shuddered through her whole form, and she slid down to the wood-panelled floor, crying. I am . . . I am not crazy! Everything she had seen, and everything she had felt. All of it was real; and what she had done tonight, the demon and the electricity . . . that was real too. But all that mattered to Sinéad right then was knowing that she was not insane.

The reality of everything else that had been told to her, well that would weigh upon her later.

Yoshiya Dayze

A fire blazed in the background. Hot. Seering. Reaching for the everlasting skies as the smoke reached heights the fire could only ever dream of. Yoshiya didn't look back at it. Panting. Running. He hadn't a clue where he might be going, but then again, he was feeling pretty confused about a lot of things right now. His head pounded, his hands itched, his heart felt like it was ready to throw itself out of his chest cavity right then and there, but he had bigger things to worry about. Things. There were always things to worry about. He felt his temper rise again, but it subdued long before it could become anything notable. Or, in his case, noticeable, as it was never uncommon for his temper tantrums to draw a crowd.

Finally, when he could no longer feel the heat that reached for his skin, he came to a stop. Weezing. Dying? No, not dying. Definitely not dying. At the least, that was one good thing he could keep in mind, especially with all things considered. Oh, right. All things. He leaned against the sticky brick wall of a boarded-up building, reveling in the cool feel that was sensitive to him. He preferred it hot, but sometimes, in cases like these, the cold was welcome. He savored it; enjoyed it, in fact. In nearly brought a smile to his face. Nearly, but not quite. The situation didn't call for smiles and good feelings. It called for confusion, frustration, and worry. A hell of a lot of of worry.

As he recapped the events in his mind, Yoshiya found himself slowly sliding to the ground below him, staring out into space. He was oblivious to anything around him. A stranger could of come and robbed him at gun point and he never would of done a single thing. Maybe he deserved to get robbed at gun point. For that matter, maybe he deserved to get shot. Maybe even-- No, that was taking it a step too further than it needed to go. After all, he was over-exaggerating. The situation wasn't nearly as bad as he was thinking it to be. He just over-reacted, that's all. Yeah, just over-reacted. Everything back there, way back in the distance behind him, was fine. Well, no, it wasn't fine; none of it was fine. But it wasn't so horribly bad he should get himself killed over it. It would be resolved and he wouldn't have to worry anymore. Yeah, everything was going to be okay.

Yoshiya allowed himself a sigh of relief, catching his breath for the first time in what felt like hours, but had only been less than ten minutes. He leaned his head back against the wall behind him as he sat and wondered what exactly had just happened.

First of all, he'd been on a walk. He did that a lot these days. He didn't like going to the orphanage anymore, not for a couple years now, so he stayed away from it as often as he could, only returning to eat and sleep. It was a free stay and he knew it would be good to take advantage of it while he could, before he turned eighteen and got kicked out. It was after dark and he was considering heading back when something jumped out in front of him--one alley to another. Just like that. The figure only took a second to pass, but a second was long enough for him to make out just how large it was. Large and fast meant dangerous. It wasn't a natural creature, like an animal--although, at first, he swore it was a lion. Needless to say, he wasn't dumb enough to stand around and allow a lion to take him down and start gnawing on him, so he took off running like the oh-so-brave man he was. He liked a challenge, sure, but he wasn't an idiot. He couldn't take on a lion. Besides, he liked lions-- He was getting off-track.

The creature wasn't a lion either way. Yoshiya found that out when the over-sized brute of a thing lunged at him and knocked him clean onto his back. Instictively, he placed a hand where his head had smacked against the pavement. He didn't feel any blood, which made him relax. Going back, he remembered vaguely how he actually managed to get away from the sharp, two-tailed lion-like creature. He'd ran into a building, thinking abount barracading it outside. Apparently, Yoshiya had underestimated the strength of a lion and the thing slammed the door down without any hesitation. There was a blur of events. Running. Shouting. Panting. Pain. He reached to his side where a nice stain of blood was blending darkly with his ketchup red shirt. It wasn't bad. He would live.

And then...then, he just freaked. Yoshiya frowned at this point in the memory where he remembered being trapped in a corner inside of an abandoned, falling building by a snarling lion-sized creature--fangs the size of a saber-tooth tiger and claws the size of a sloth with two tails in the back with oddly pointed tips in place of any fur. He thought he was going to die, so he just...he just used the fire. He got mad. Defensive. It just sort of happened, he would say to anyone who'd ask. The building caught fire easily and he ran while the creature--demon--whatever it was!--had been distracted. That's how he ended up here. Confused beyond belief and worried for the people living in the buildings next to the one he'd set fire.

Yoshiya's eyes opened at the sound of footsteps. He didn't care much for them, though. There were voices in the distance, following the footsteps, but again, he cared less. The voices were too far away to listen in on anyway. He shut out the rest of the sounds and closed his eyes again, pulling his knees up to his chest and wishing to fall asleep from exhaustion; right then and there, he didn't even care.

The air tonight was crisp with excitement, and a single man with red hair walked down a narrow alley humming gently. The homeless men and women scampered away from him and the street thugs in the alley eyed him from a distance. None of these humans knew why they feared him, but they just knew he was bad news to get involved with. Berith smiled gently as he felt the reapers at work,why didn't they ever hide their powers from others. They couldn't possibly think they where the bad boys of town did they? He noticed another presence though and he knew he had to take a look in to it as was his duties. He started his way to the park which wasn't far from where he was already. He had left a few demons in the vicinity of the reapers to watch them to see how long it would take them to progress.

He came up to the entrance of the park and located the being he searched for this very night. She was a coy lushes beauty, and had easily found a pawn to play with for the time being. The queen seemed to be in a good mood this night so he didn't stop her from leading the man to a vehicle. He stayed behind them from a distance to study her actions in a more detailed manners. She killed him in front of him and it was cold way to kill a person. He smiled and walked out from the darkness and wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear. " Don't you grow tired playing with the pawns of mankind"? His chest was up against her back, and his arms held each side of her chest bringing her in to him. He enjoyed playing with females and had a lustful taste for their eternal souls. He knew she would pull away but he played this game when ever he had a free moment. He never truly departed from his Queen, and in which he had a formed a demonic loving manner for her.

He spoke again in her left ear." The reapers are forming again, and I'm afraid they may get in the way for your precious daughter". He let go of her and moved to the hood of the car and leaned against it. He had been smiling the entire time, his red eye's stared at her wish burning passion for all things not of his. He spoke again and his voice was that of a sweet elegant echo as it usually was. " I think we should implant a spy to keep a watchful eye on them. I wouldn't want them getting any more involved as they are"! He turned his gaze from her to the starry sky, it had been awhile since he had looked upon it with any real interest. He placed his hands in his pockets and fished around looking for a lighter and a smoke. Finding both he pulled his hand out and placed the cig in his mouth and lit it with the free hand.

He inhaled the intoxicating tobacco, it was a Turkish blend manufactured by Camels. He had grown used to smoking in the mortal world, his habit was a pack a day. He always carried gum so he wouldn't have to taste the smoke in his mouth after he gone done with a cig. He didn't half to worry about the smell lingering he some how always smelled nice like a fresh Autumn day.

Michael Bonnefoy

Michael was a little surprised that this stranger spoke French, but supposed it was always possible. After all, it wasn't that obscure of a language. No, he was more surprised that this stranger acted like he knew Michael... Was he a stalker? No, he didn't seem like it... Besides, Michael had dealt with stalkers before, and they generally didn't act so... So calmly. They were usually more hyper, and had a better sense of fashion. "Please, will you calm the whirlwind in your head?" Michael felt like there was a whirlwind in his head, that was for sure. "My name is Tezuka Walker, though you might recognize me better as the Null Reaper. You are the Reaper of Air, and you are not human." Tezuka... What kind of name was that? It wasn't English, or French. Japanese? It seemed Asian, that was for sure. But what was this whole 'Reaper' thing? And of course Michael was a human. He looked human, he acted human, so he was human.

Normal humans can't control the wind, some part of his mind hissed. Michael mentally shook his head. He didn't control the wind, he just guessed where it would go next... Which totally explained why it blew the perfect way on all of his outdoor shoots, and went up the skirts of the girls that Michael felt like looking at. Hey, just because he was gay didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the female body just as much as the male one. Not like Michael had a collection of Playgirls in his room or anything (and not like he looked at the other guys during his shoots).

"And no, I am not a stalker...I am a mind reader. You would know this if you would just accept the memories I know lay dormant within your mind." Memories? What memories? This guy was insane, pure and simple. Michael rolled his eyes and let out a nervous laugh. "S'il vous plaît, if you wanted an autograph or wanted to talk to me so badly you didn't need to come up with such excuses..." Michael figured it was just an over-excited fan or something, even though this Tezuka person wasn't really acting like a fan at all. "I'm afraid I'm quite tired, but you seem nice enough... Here, if you call me I'll tell my agent to keep an eye out for a Tezuka, or whatever your name is." Michael turned to walk away, thinking he'd sleep it off and in the morning nothing would be different, when all of a sudden his head started to pound.

---

[i]"You look amazing tonight, ----." Was that his voice? No, it wasn't his, but it felt like he was speaking. And why couldn't he catch the name? All he could see were blurs, moving but not really focused... There was a laugh and a fake scream, but Michael could hear the happiness behind the sounds and wasn't worried. What was going on?

"Thank you, ----." Again, no name. But why did it sound so familiar? Why did this seem so... So normal?

---

Michael gasped, panting for air. He realized he had almost fallen over and was clutching the brick wall tightly, eyes wide and knuckles white. He took a moment to remember where he was, and then he tried putting that... That flashback back together. It was a blur. He was talking to someone, a girl, and he was so happy... But he wasn't sure who he was talking to, or if it was even him. It felt like him, but it didn't sound like him. It was hard to tell. Michael turned back around and slowly looked at Tezuka. What had he said? Memories? Was that one of the memories?

"What... What was that?" Michael shook his head, straightening up. He realized that he was sweating lightly, and felt a little disgusted by it. If he didn't calm down, then his make-up and clothes might be ruined. "How... How can I trust you?" Michael asked.

Vitane inhaled deeply through her nostrils. The sweet scent of his spilled blood was intoxicating and she wanted it to last forever. Had she the time she would have knelt to taste the sweet liquid, but she wouldn't. The only blood she truly wanted was that of the reapers.

She felt the familiar presense of an ally closing in on her then was wrapped up in his arms. She had a smug look on her face, eyeing him enveloped in her. She loved the feeling of a man touching her. Her hands lay gently across his before she turned to look into his red orbs, a wicked smile on her face. She followed his figure, now facing the vehicle that had been the reason the human had lost his life so quickly.
"I never despise taking any lives, they always give me more power. Besides, I find it fun and quite entertaining. It also passes the time." She chuckled and nodded, as if agreeing with her last statement.
"Asking that I grow aggitated with killing is like asking a cat why he does not lap up milk from a bowl. It is just our nature."
She nodded again when he mentioned the reapers, a steady growl vibrated her vocal chords. She hated them with a bloody passion, but their fall would come soon enough.

She slammed a fist against the metal of the car, denting the hood. If it was possible, she would have litteraly been steaming from an orifice.
"They will not get in the way of finding Christine. I already know where she works. I wanted to wait until you met up with me before I headed off to find her. You are very good with women." She laughed and beckoned for him to follow her down the sidewalk.
She pulled up the collar of her trench coat, her heavy platform boots thudding against the concrete as they walked side by side.

"She is usually at this bar. It's only a few blocks from here, but we could check up on the reapers, maybe figure out what their plan of action is. I wonder if Tezuka has located many of them or not. Oh, how I would love to just wrap my fingers around his neck." She made the motion, her hands clutched together, pulling back and forth violently as if his head were actually in her grasp.
"It would make my entire life to send them back to where they came from. But anyway..." She trailed off, her purple eyes back on Berith.

He smiled gently at Vitane and walked beside her listening as she spoke. He grabbed her hand and held it as they walked on the side walk making them look like a innocent couple. " I could keep watch over your prize if that is your wish. I didn't realize Tezuka was a problem in these matters"? His eyes roamed to meet hers, they where both killers of mortal yet in their human forms they where seen as normal men and women. Both of them could easily be mistaken for models, but that was the disguise to feel humans. He didn't know of the where bar was located so he allowed her to lead him to where she wanted to go. " The reapers are not a problem to us, even with their combined powers they wouldn't be able to scratch your plans"!

His hair swayed in the wind making it look as if their was a fire on his head. He didn't feel cold because of his core temperature was slightly higher then the normal human beings. His pale skin was smooth to the touch and warm, he didn't have a single flaw on his body. " I can not fathom how Asmodeuos ever lost to those striplings. Ah well we shall get a chance at them soon enough". He patted her hand with his free one and looked around. " I believe they are beating my trackers, well low level demons are so easy to come by these days".

Berith leads 26 legions of demons and he never had to worry about looking for new soldiers. They freely offered their services to him as he was given the title demon prince. The demon princes where few in numbers but where of the strongest of all the demons. He didn't care for a title, as he had already knew he was a strong demonic warrior. " Yes the reapers seem weak at this point, but do realize they are just waking up. Lets allow them to ripen up a bit before we take our first bite".

Tezuka smiled at him, his eyes actually flickering to life for a second. "You are beginning to wake up. All your memories from all your past lives, everyone you have ever been, are beginning to come back to you. The longer you stay near me the more you will begin to remember. In your last life you were Edgar Talimir." He watched him. He extended a hand.

"You can choose to come with me now or wait, but know that you cannot escape your fate, Reaper. Also know...once you come with me, the life you have known unto this point will be over. You will have no contact with the people you have known, and you yourself, will no longer exist. It is the price we must pay in every life. We get to grow up normal, only to be destroyed once we realize what we are."

He waited for his answer.

~+~+~+~

The Replicate sighed, until he saw something that caught his attention. Overlooking the city, he was able to see that somewhere off in the distance, there was a building on fire. He couldn't help but smile slightly. "Where there's fire...there's a Fire Reaper." He glanced back at the Reaper on the couch. She would be fine. Demons couldn't find the Loft because of the wards, not even Mystery, and Darkness would not be able to get out.

"Darkness is in the Loft, unconscious. I may have located Fire." He sent to his original, and exited the Loft.

He wound his way through the streets, wandering down through the alleyways near the wreckage the firefighters were working so desperately to save. No Reaper here...it was then that he caught a trail. A mental trail, to be exact. And it was tinged with red. Slowly, the Replicate began to follow it, and within about five miles from the site, he found a young man sitting down, with his arms covering his face.

The presence emanating from him, there was no mistaking it. "Funny how I always seem to find you around things burning. You're not very good at controlling yourself, my good man. At least, not when you first wake up."

Asmodeuos stands on top of the Empire State building looking out over the city, the moon reflecting off his sunglasses. "It has been 20 years since my most glorious achievement, the first and only demon to kill six reapers at once single handedly." He turns around and faces three Hexon demons he has under his command. "What do you want us to do?" Asks one of the lesser demon. "Absolutely nothing." Says Asmodeuos as he turns around and faces his demons. "I have plans and i would like to see them come true. Anyway i have a place to be at the moment, go feast on humans if you want, just leave the Reapers alone." As he was saying that he was beginning to vanish from the rooftop.

Asmodeuos appears behind the demons Vitane and Berith just as Berith finishes speaking and falls into step behind them. "Well don't think your self so high and mighty Berith, you were not the Demon to kill 6 of the Reapers at one time all by yourself, I am the one and only of our kind to achieve that and thus the honor falls to me. I don't even think you kill 3 at one time let alone 6." His eyes glow brightly as he speaks with a angry scowl spread across his face. "Good evening your Majesty, I take it your most recent kill went good?" He bows slightly as he says this. "So your Majesty, i take it your daughter is almost ripe enough for the picking yes? How shall you get her, i will be happy to help."

Sinéad lay quietly on her bed; her tears had since ceased to fall. Her door was locked, and she refused to answer her parents’ commands to come out and explain her current ill-behavior to them at once. She knew that she was getting her sheets and bedspread dirty, laying on them covered in the strange black dust that had covered her earlier. But for the life of her, all she could do was continuously stare at her small hands, which were also covered with the filth. The sobering thought of, I am not crazy. was all that filled the Light Reaper’s head.

It was . . . bizarre. Thinking about what Tezuka had said to her, about the demon and what she herself had evidently done; she had been the one to injure that reptilian-fiend. All of the things in her life that she though hallucinations up until this very evening, they were as much a part of her as everything else. The names, all of the names she remembered; Io, Areceli, Kathryn, Alice, Natalie and the final name that came to her was Millicent, the name she bore in her . . . last life. Sinéad let her hands drop to her sides, hitting her mattress with soft thud; she let out a breath as she rested her head against her headboard and stared up at her blank ceiling.

A ‘last’ life. she thought, Perhaps the sheer ecstasy of just knowing that I am not insane has anaesthetized me to the reality of understanding what it is that has transpired, this night. A passing car’s headlights lit up her room for a moment as she continued to stare off into space. She could hear her parents thudding, ever-pacing footsteps going back and forth outside of her room, going from the end of the hallway, into their room and repeating. As they had all night. Sinéad moved one of her soiled hands, and clutched onto her dress, right above where her heart was located. This body houses a soul, tied down with the chains of metempsychosis. Though I feel as . . . myself, there lies a deep conflict of identity within this vessel now. It is not as simple as simply uttering, ‘I am me’ and being at ease with knowing who I really am.

“Demons exist, I discover that my sole purpose in existence is to eliminate them, to shield humanity from their evils, and yet, my foremost concern is a crisis of distinctiveness.” For the last twenty years, she had been called ‘Sinéad Knight,’ she had been formed to adhere to this name, to her current body’s name, never once believing that all of the other names that were being given to her, once belonged to the same soul within. Her soul was ancient, and it bore many names over its innumerable lifetimes. This she knew, and here she could only evoke a few. The memoirs of so many, and yet the body of one. Identities lost to the annals of time; each one of them had a family and people they loved. . . . All had names, which were used by those people, all as equally essential as the next.

So, did that not mean that the name ‘Sinéad’ was as significant as the others were? Yes . . . it held just as much substance as all the other names in her previous lifetimes did. Though it was still not as simple as saying ‘I am me,’ she would go by her current vessel’s name; it seemed the simplest course of action. Her memories, her life, her personality, everything that encompassed the Light Reaper, all the lives the soul had gone through were there inside of her. The chronicles of many peoples’ lives persisted within her flesh, they all formed the ‘Light Reaper.’ Bits and pieces of the puzzle that was ‘Sinéad Knight’ fell into place from her previous lives, didn’t they? Her affinity to place nicknames upon others was from Millie. . . .

“My identity no longer matters,” She told herself, sitting up straight; she swung her legs over the side of her bed and sat there. Letting the appendages dangle in the air, her toes not even touching the floor. “Whatever I may be deemed, one thing is evident. I am the Light Reaper; born with an obligation to achieve. Whoever I may be; Sinéad, Millicent, Alice . . . my responsibility is to my fellow Reapers.” A familiar tingling returned to her arms; that sensation of pins and needles, what she once believed to be her nerves going bad . . . she now understood were her powers. They were not yet under her control in this lifetime, but they were still hers.

Figuring herself out would be a task that she would leave for later. Sinéad still heard her parents pacing outside of her room, their footsteps thudding and apparently angry. Dexter and Clara Knight were upset with their misbehaving daughter; the two humans hadn’t the slightest inkling as to what they had given life to. Just what their one child was. . . . “And they will never know.” She whispered, setting her feet to the floor, and standing to her full height. Between Sinéad and her parents, there had never been what one could call love. Though she had not suffered abuse of any sort, she simply had been raised with apathy and callousness, melded to the sort of girl her parents desired. They did not hate her, but she had never sensed any love from them.

She was grateful to the two though. They had given her life, and made sure she lived up to this day when they did not have to. Her mother and father, no . . . no they were just Dexter and Clara now, they would not miss her. They were the biological parents of her current vessel, nothing more than that now. Her only connections were DNA. Nothing else attached the Light Reaper to this place, to these people. It is time I depart, she thought, heading for her window. Regardless of her thoughts, the lack of connections, Sinéad could not help but halt as she unlocked the lower pane of her window, and crane her head back toward her locked door.

“Farewell.” She murmured quietly as she slid the heavy half of the window up, and slipped her petite body out of it. Sinéad was quick about making her escape, shimmying along the bit of roof that was located under her window and over to the rain gutters which were bolted onto the side of the house.

Her body was small, and she weighed little, so the gutters could support her diminutive form as she went ahead and gingerly used it to descend to the ground below. Upon her feet touching the cool grass below her, Sinéad thought ahead; she was leaving her current life, and what was it she would do now? Where was it she was going to go. . . ?

A faint whisper of nostalgia echoed through her mind, transcending her memories and mind from one of her former lives. Before tonight, if this feeling would have ever filled her, she would have doubted it, and shoved it back in the dark corners of her heart, proceeding to ignore its existence, but now, she was certain of the credence it held. Not doubting it, her feet began to move, walking before finally proceeding into a flighty sprint.

The memory was Millicent’s; it was of the place she called home, where all the Reapers had called home before their deaths. . . . To the former Light Reaper’s vessel, it had been a place of happiness, of comfort, a place where she was content. Yes, that was where she needed to go.

Quintin Borsden

Quintin's boots clicked against the pavement as he walked down the streets. He was slowly heading home, not really minding his pace nor the time. He could see the faint light of the sun struggling over darkness' massive grasp, and he smiled. He put a cig in his mouth, flipped out his Decepticon lighter - they were his favourite transformers, just because of their awesome colour schemes - and lit the ciggarette. He watched as little bits of smoke rose from the cig as it burned. He took a deep breath in, and let it out with a happy sigh. He had nothing to be upset about, since his dad was now giving him free reign of the shop sometimes now, and his grades weren't Fs. That last part was the impressive one.

Quintin smiled brightly as he stared up at the stars for a few minutes, stopping his walk and the noise of his boots. The stars were beginning to shine through, and he knew he should pick up the pace. Sure, his parents usually didn't care when he came home, as long as he didn't come home drunk or high. He shuddered, remembering the last time he came home after smoking something he couldn't remember. His dad was pissed, his mom was exasperated. Quin had nearly got fired for that, especially since it was about 3 in the morning, and he knew how much his parents liked their sleep. Now, sleeping with each other was an entirely different story, since his parents weren't technically 'married'. More like 'living together and occasionally bringing home a 'friend'. Quintin, when he was younger, thought that that was just what Mommys and Daddys did. Until he learned about marriage, found out what his parents were doing - more like who - and everything went to hell. Worst part was that he was only 7 at the time.

Quintin struggled to hold in the smile as he started back up again, now turning a corner. He couldn't get what happened at the bus stop out of his mind. He swore he had saw somebody in a trench coat staring at him, but the bus driver said nobody was following him. Mac, the nickname Quintin gave for Bus Driver Harold McKinning, wouldn't lie for anything to Quintin, so he didn't give it another thought. He shook his head, and realized his cig was nearly gone. He quickly took another puff and threw it onto the ground. His black boot smashed it as it lay on the pavement, and Que went on his way.

Vitane clasped onto Berith's hand, smiling at the normal appearance they were showing off.
"Yes, dear. You are the only one that I feel comfortable with keeping an eye on her. And Tezuka is only a problem because we are gaining enemies because of him. No worries, though. We can handle anything they throw at us plus some."
Her violet orbs fell on his and she couldn't help but smile. He always had made her feel quite comfortable, but she especially loved being with him in Hell. The were like the two best friends that couldn't be seperated.
She grinned when he agreed with her thoughts about them being unable to alter their coming defeat.
She tilted her head, thinking of how the reapers were slipping past them.
"We should send the hellhounds out for them, don't you agree, darling?" She asked him, laying her eyes on him again.

"In my opinion I think it would be quite fun to have at them now, just to shake thins up. Give them a warning of what they are up against. It would never hurt to see what they can do anyway. They are so weak, already."
She was about to continue, but she could feel the other demon on their heels, her eyes flashing to him for a moment beore going to look ahead of her again.
She was a bit agitated that he would just show up. He could blow their cover.

Then he began bragging about his kills prior to then and this really brought her anger out. She stopped, amd spun on the ball of her foot to look him straight on. She gave him a pleasant smile before unleashing her feelings.
"You act as though you are quite high and mighty, don't you, Asmodeous? What does it matter what happened in the past? We are in the now, and what happens now is what matters most to me. Yes, my kill was fantastic, but then you blow on in flapping your jaw. It doesn't seem like I am in the best mood now, now does it?" Her lips curled back momentarily showing her sharpened teeth then she took Berith's hand again, continuing down the path. She didn't care wether the other demon followed behind them or not. Just as long as the next thing out of his mouth be brilliant.

Asmodeuos laughs at her sudden outburst and chooses not to follow them and waits for them to be out of ear shot before speaking aloud to him self. "My dear Queen, you would do well to praise my talents, for if it were not for me your plans would have been crushed in an instant. Although they will fail, of that you can be certain. And you would do well to remember that the past is what defines the future the present is just the pathway, my Lady." His eyes glow red as he fades away, if humans saw him or not was no concern to him, what could they do? Anybody they would tell will tell them they are seeing things or are crazy.

Asmodeuos reappears on top of the Empire state building to think on his next moves when a Hexon demon appears behind him. Before the demon could speak he gave it an order. "Go and watch the Reapers progress but do not engage, i will make my move as soon as i am satisfied with their development also.... keep an eye out for Mystery's daughter, i wish to know what i have to work with." The demon vanishes leaving Asmodeuos alone with his thoughts. Asmodeuos leans against the wall beneath the spire where massive airships would dock. Perhaps i will get lucky and her daughter will have some strong bond with a human and i can talk her into siding with the Reapers so she could protect all she holds dear, thus turning her against her mother giving me the upper hand. With that thought he lets out a laugh that fills the air, a laugh that will make even the bravest man make a mess in his pants.

Michael Bonnefoy

Michael looked at Tezuka, the 'Reaper's' eyes lighting up for a moment. "You are beginning to wake up. All your memories from all your past lives, everyone you have ever been, are beginning to come back to you. The longer you stay near me the more you will begin to remember. In your last life you were Edgar Talimir." Edgar Talimir? What kind of name was that? Though, Michael supposed not everyone could be fortunate like him... But the memories... Did he really want more to come back? Did he want to know more about his... His other selves? It was strange enough having that one flashback; what would it be like to have more?

It was a little bit like having sugar, or some other kind of sweet. You weren't supposed to have it, so it felt weird, but you wanted another so badly... No, wait, he wasn't supposed to want another flashback. Michael shook his head, mentally scolding himself. This was just a bunch of lies, or maybe he was going crazy. Tezuka wasn't really there... Or, at least, that was the easy thing to think.

"You can choose to come with me now or wait, but know that you cannot escape your fate, Reaper. Also know...once you come with me, the life you have known unto this point will be over. You will have no contact with the people you have known, and you yourself, will no longer exist. It is the price we must pay in every life. We get to grow up normal, only to be destroyed once we realize what we are." That did not sound good. What was that supposed to mean? His whole work, everything he had done the last nineteen years, would just disappear? Did Tezuka realize just how impossible that was? Michael's face was on the cover of hundreds of magazines, he was in thousands of articles, and his name was all over the internet... Was that all going to just vanish?

"That's impossible," Michael muttered, shaking his head. Ok, that's it, I'm seeing things. My pills just need some checking... Are hallucinations a side-affect? Michael realized that, as he was thinking, he had been twirling some hair again. Merde. Not again.

---

"You have the strangest little quirks, Edgar." It was a girl's voice, again. Or was it..? It could be a male's, but they'd have to be young. Michael/Edgar felt himself laugh; it was a low sound, like rolling thunder, but amused too. Kind, protective. Even a little bit gentle. It was a different laugh than before, and Michael wondered if it had been the girl who laughed before. Or the male's. At this point, Michael wasn't sure of anything.

"So do you, ----." Michael got the feeling it was the same person as before, but, again, he didn't hear their name. Was it part of loosing his memories? Michael figured he'd remember it eventually... But did he want to? Unlike last time, it was all black, except for a brief flash of color every few moments. A blur of yellow, blue. A flash of green, and splat of white. He didn't know what any of it was, though. It could have been hair, or clothing, or the scenery.

---

Michael swallowed as he realized what just happened, feeling like he was stuck onto the pavement. He looked at Tezuka, whose face expressed no emotion. Does this mean what he was saying is true...? Or am I just going insane? Michael nodded slowly, breath coming in ragged gasps.

"F... Fine. Take me to... Wherever we need to go," he said, breath coming in a more regular pattern now.

Tezuka nodded. "You choose well." He helped Michael up, and then turned his head west. "My Replicate has found Fire...Darkness is in the Loft...and Light is on her way. We are coming together once again." He said softly. He closed his eyes for a second, and a hazy shadow of himself appeared, clearing and becoming solid, once he opened his eyes. He turned to his Replicate. "Go, find Light. She's doing well, using her memories to find the Loft, but with the number of Demons about, I doubt she'll be lucky to draw upon her powers again in one night." The Replicate gave him a blank stare before taking off.

Tezuka turned back to Michael. "Come, my friend. It is time you get re-acquainted to your home."

~+~+~+~+~

The Replicate lept from building to building, making his way across the city until she came into his view. He wasn't surprised at all. Light, like a beacon, would reveal itself to all who search for it. He stopped onto of the building directly in front of her. "So tell me, Light Reaper...are you ready to accept your fate now?"

~+~+~+~+~

Chris wasn't sure why, but she felt like she was being followed. It was some time around 2 a.m., she had been let off early at the bar, they had been slow, which wasn't surprising for a Tuesday night. She kept checking over her shoulder, but didn't see anything. Trying to shake off the feeling, she continued walking. All she wanted to do was curl up on her couch in her fuzzy pajamas and watch horror movies. Seeing Quintin wouldn't be half-bad either.

"Speak of the devil..." She said with a small smile. There was no mistaking that bright neon hair. She silently crept up behind him. Sh eknew he didn't like being startled, so she just tapped him on the shoulder, a grin plastered on her face, waiting for him to turn around.

As Britney laid there on the cold ground of dirt and cement unconscious, though nothing was going on the outside, inside of her, stuff was happening inside of her. More than just her heart pumping, organs working, and even the fast healing of her scars; No, more and more memories of past lives were going through her head. But this time not just Lillian, but others, other reapers. Brit didn't really pay attention to their names, just knew they were just like her, personality and appearance.

As the memories went on, they were more of training on to show someone how to use the powers of Darkness, the memories were all the previous Darkness Reapers training and controlling their powers. Mostly controlled by emotion and concentration, there was a lot Brit could do with the powers; from creating shadowy figures and creatures, to even able to move and break things while thinking about it. But one little side effect she would have, is that if she lost control of herself, emotionally, her powers would just happen, and the results being unpredictable.

One of the memories was of Lillian training, but in the same room was the Null Reaper, also known as Tezuka. While she was meditating and concentrating on her power, Null was trying new techniques with his powers, the current was attempting to create a blast of energy, which Null thought would be powerful to help against demons, groups on them. But when Null finally succeeded, the blast was powerful, enough to push, or more like throw Lillian into a pile of stuff, getting hurt in the process. Luckily water has just come in before the blast and could tell how mad Lillian was and was able to calm her down before she could do anything.

---

Britney then slowly opened her eyes and then realizing she wasn’t in the construction site anymore and sat up quickly, realizing her hoodie had been taken off. Why is my hoodie off? she thought, then looking around, she knew she also wasn’t at her house, but the loft looking place looked familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why it did so. Dark then remember her wounds she had from, from the demon creature, and lifted up her grey tank-top that had a curved like design with a skull and roses, but not girly, more dark. As she looked at the scars on her stomach she was stunned that it looked healed, as if it was only a small scratch, not a skin tearing claw mark. As Britney rubbed her hand across the now barely visible scars, she felt pain, but only on the touch of them, nothing else.

Then remembering she also was scratched on her arm Brit glanced at her left arm. The scar didn't look as good as the one on her stomach, probably because the demons claws went deeper here than on her stomach where it was barely past her skin. Her arm still slightly stinging with pain, Britney got up and wondered to the bathroom, for some reason she knew where it was. Where am I? she said to herself as she opened the door to the bathroom, not caring to turn on the light since the one in the living room gave off enough to be able to see in the bathroom.

Brit opened numerous drawers trying to find something to wrapper her arm in, but finally in the last drawer, she finally found some, and luckily they were just plain bright white, more of a dark white/grey color. After cleaning her arm gently she wrapped the bandages around her arm all the way up to her elbow. After stepping out of the bathroom, and looking at the living room to try to figure out how she knew this place, it finally clicked to her where she was. “L-Lillian’s place? No, where Lillian and the others lived, so those aren’t really dreams…” Dark said to herself as she then began walking down a hallway, the dreams guiding her, to where, she didn't know.

When Britney finally reached the end of the hallway, she focused her attention to one room for some reason. Lillian’s room… She thought as she opened up the door and looking inside. It was dark, black, plain, simple: everything that Brit liked. As she slipped the light switch, it turned on a dim light bulb to a lamp that was in the corner. To anyone else they would barely be able to see, but Britney could see just fine. Looking around, she spotted a sliding door closet and walked over to it, wondering what would be inside. As Britney slid one side open, it was nothing special, just clothes.

Looking in, Dark spotted a dark type of cloak/robe. It was a dark black it looked like it could go all the way to her feet, but it had no front, it looked sort of like a cape, but not childish. The sides of it actually came all the way to the front so technically it did have a front side, but it could be pushed away. It also had a hood and loose sleeves, loose enough to keep something in them, like some sort of weapon maybe.

As Brit put it on, it fit, not a perfect fit, but good enough. Closing the door to the closet she turned around and saw something on the shelf that caught her eye. Walking over to it, she noticed it was a chain. Britney picked it up, it was very light, had some sort of wrist cuff on one end of it, and was black. “This has to be some sort of weapon, but Lillian’s?” Britney said outloud, and picking it up, easily and quickly putting the cuff around her left wrist and wrapping it along her arm. “Definitely…” She said once again, not hearing the front door opening.