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Asher Williams

People tell me I'm not compassionate. But, I am. Spilled milk? Here, allow me to go kill the cow that ultimately caused you such heartache. See? Compassion.

0 · 226 views · located in Earth

a character in “Revenge and Freedom.”, as played by Natsumaku

Description

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My name? It's Asher Williams. Pretty good name for a demon--all the hardcore names end in asher. Crasher, Basher, Thrasher, Masher... you get the idea.

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I'm not exactly sure. I'd have to break out the scrapbooks or something, but I'm gonna estimate... Eighty-eight? Of course, demon years are different than human years... Hm...

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Well, I never really thought about it. Probably... the glow worm poem.

I wish I was a glow worm,
A glow worm's never glum.
'Cos how can you be grumpy
When the sun shines out your bum!

I'm joking, obviously. My song would be "Broken Strings," by James Morrison.

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For some reason, I don't think I'd answer this accurately. I suppose my perspective of myself is different than everyone else's. But, I suppose I'll try.

ImageI'm not that bad a guy. Actually, I'm something of a gentleman. Go chivalry and all that. I don't like seeing people suffer. But, that happens. What can ya do? I'm not big on injustice. I hate people who persecute others. In fact, I used to be really keen on revenge--I lived for it. Gettin' even for the ones that couldn't do it for themselves. But, I've wised up these past few ce--years. I realized that revenge doesn't do you any good…

But, I'm getting off topic... Heh. You must be laughing by now. The serial killer—the demon—who claims to hate suffering and injustice. Yeah, yeah. Silence yourself. I’ve got my issues. I’m a bit… merciless. Second chances? Bullshit. If you can’t get it right the first time, you’re obviously too useless to get another shot. I never got another shot. Why should you? I’m also a tad sarcastic. Okay, I’m just your regular sarcastic bastard. A textbook smart-ass kid. I guess I can be a little illogical at times, too. Even though I’m usually pretty level headed and chilled. I can be a bit of a monster when I’m pissed. I don’t like to venture out of my comfort zone, so don’t push me out of it. I’m not afraid to hurt people. Mercy isn’t my strongest trait, unless it’s undoubtedly deserved. I somewhat lack empathy in most situations. Go apathy. I guess the years have made me colder.

I’m a serious guy by nature, but the years have caused me to take on a slightly… different… persona. I act the fool a lot of times. This carefree, optimistic kid that’s never down and always charming. Okay, the charming part is actually more myself than I care to admit, but… regardless. I’m very reserved. Hell, I’d even go so far as to say I’m shy. I never was much of a people person. People never really cared about me, so I stopped outwardly caring for them. I’m pretty quick witted and I’m a good fighter. I guess I’m an aggressive pacifist. To sum it up, I do what I have to in order to get by. Playing people is sometimes necessary. Evil is sometimes necessary. It is what it freakin’ is. I’m done for now. I’m not going to spell myself out for you. That’d be a waste of time.


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My…past? Uh, well... About that. I don't really remember. And, what I do remember, I don't really want to talk about. It's a... touchy subject. Hah... But, why would you want to know that anyway? No one ever really cared about me, so you shouldn’t either… But… I mean...

Fine… I was a…a farmer’s boy. I… er, died when I was just a kid. How I died isn’t that important… I, uh… somethin’ wrong with my blood or somethin’. I don’t wanna talk about it. I guess all those years of harassing Mrs. Wendell landed me in hell and I chose bein’ a demon over eternal fire. It was a no brainer, really. I was a reaper, but… I, uh, well… I forget. I guess I got demoted to one of those contract demons, and the devil told me to kill some people. Now I’m getting a new master and stuff. Whatever. Not much to it, I guess. Sorry to disappoint, if you were hopin' for something interesting...

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I should probably mention that I'm about 5' 10" with two small brownish horns (my hair more or less covers them...) and an identifying tattoo. Which looks like this:

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Pretty nice, huh? Can't say it makes me a favorite among children.

So begins...

Asher Williams's Story

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Character Portrait: Asher Williams Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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((I'm just gonna use the opening as the first post, okay? He's waiting for her to come so they can sign the contract and get on with life. ^^))

Oh, well… HELLO THERE. Oh—crap—sorry, did I scare you? I can’t really help it. I guess I’m kind of scary? I think it might be the tattoos. Of course, maybe it’s the horns. Or my reputation? I don’t know. Great—I’m making such a good first impression. Damn it. Why can’t I be one of those teddy bear type guys? WHY, for the love of go—oh, shit. You’re still here? You mean, I HAVEN’T scared you off yet? OH MY GOSH YOU’RE SUCH AN AMAZING PERSON. I love you.

Moving on.

This is my life’s story. Oh, wait. I guess… this is more my week’s story. But, uh, enjoy it anyway. If I wasn’t me, I think I’d laugh at the poor sap that went through all of this. But, that sap is me, so… uh… yeah. I don’t plan on laughing. But you can laugh. I mean, if you actually can laugh… Anyway, this is how it went. Initiate FLASHBACK. Woo…oo… hoo…

I held my breath as I watched all the lights abandon their posts, fleeing my sight as though souls headed to the afterlife, leaving only darkness in their midst. I wonder, sometimes, if the light is so great—does it realize the disaster that follows its absence? Does it realize that by leaving, it allows the darkness his evil escapade? Really, if the light is so sanctimonious… why? Why would it leave? Someone who allows bad things to happen, well, they’re just as bad as the person who does bad things. Don’t you think? I always thought so. That’s why I don’t really give a damn about doin’ wrong. I’m gonna be the bad guy either way, whether I do it myself or wander off and let someone else do my dirty work. Really, isn’t it worse to let someone else soil their hands? Then there are two bad people, instead of just me. So, according to that logic, I’m actually a good guy. Right? People just don’t take the time to think outside the box. They see a man’s hands covered in red, and they think he’s a freaking demon. They don’t take the time to think why his hands are red. They don’t see me as a good guy, and I guess I’m really not, but they could at least give me a chance. Aren’t diamonds buried in unpleasant, hard-ass rock? And when you finally get to ‘em, well, aren’t they ugly as hell? Aren’t I kinda I like that? Sure, I don’t have the best profession… I mean, I’m no doctor or plumber or some useful chap like that. And, yeah, I guess I’m not Mr. Charisma sittin’ pretty on a high horse born of the acceptance of others… but, deep down, I’m okay, aren’t I? I’ve got a diamond in there somewhere, don’t I? Some small sparkle deep down in my soul? Doesn’t everyone have a diamond somewhere? What happened to don’t judge a book by its bloody cover? What happened to—to—oh, forget it. Maybe I’m wrong, actually. I forgot. I don’t have a soul. Well, I sorta have one… but it isn’t exactly mine, is it? Well—not yet. I might’ve lost it, but I’m gonna get it back. Sure I am. I’ll get it back. Let’s see, there’s four of them in here… right? Oh, wait. I only need three. Well, isn’t one of these folk just lucky as a clover? Damnation—good for that little soul.

A sound startled me as I crouched in the bushes, but I relaxed when I realized it was me that exhaled. Turns out I kept holding my breath as my mental tangent rambled on. Why do I always do that? Sure, there’s more risk doing it this way, but come on. There’s no need to go through these half-assed pep talks every time. I mean, I’ve been at it for almost six years now. And before that, when it was easier than frosting a cake (well, actually, most things are easier than frosting a god-damn cake), I was doing it for…for…um… well, I don’t know actually. It’s kind of a blur. I know it was a long time though. Jeez—I wonder how old I am? Let’s see, seventeen plus six plus…well, it would be at least another six, but it was probably more like twelve, or was it nineteen… or fifteen? Twenty-three? God, I don’t know.

Looking around, I realize my surroundings changed. I’m inside the house now. A familiar, kinda salty smell greets me. It envelopes my hand, which I guess is…wet? Oh, right. Blood. Duh. I hear a soft whimper from under a red sheet. Well, actually, it was a white sheet. That’s obvious from the small corner left pristine. It looks out of place, one white corner when all the rest is saturated in hemoglobin. Damn—I love that word. Hemoglobin. It sounds… it sounds so damn adorable! Like, a cute little chubby goblin—a green one, all round with stubby little appendages and big eyes and a round shape. They’d be fat and tiny, but they’d band together and smother you in cuteness. Then, with your dying gasp, you’d yell, DAMN YOU HEMOGLOBINS! But, it wouldn’t be them that killed you—you see, you’d laugh yourself to death at the ridiculousness of getting killed by something as innocent-sounding as hemoglobin. Hemoglobin. Hemoglobin. I just can’t help but smile when thinking that word. Hemoglobin. Hemoglobin.

“Hemoglobin,” I say softly, exposing my grin with a chuckle. The whimpers catch my attention again. “Oh, you still alive? Sorry ‘bout that. I’ll end your pain,” lifting back the heavy sheet, I see a woman—unharmed—and a guy with a knife in his chest. Huh. I only stabbed one? What was the other resistance, then? Crinkling my brow, I scan for the other knife, but I can’t see it. I really should stop daydreaming in the middle of murder. It’s so easy to miss important detai—“Fuck!”

Clenching my teeth against the shot of pain, I wrap my hand around the wrist of the woman. “W-well, at least I found my k-knife, huh?” With a strained smile, I use my other hand to firmly grasp her chin. One obtuse angle later, accompanied by a snap, she fell limp next to the man. Probably her husband. I mean, unless she’s just an unlucky mistress or something. Pulling out the blade she buried in me left side, (it’s kind of sad, she was aiming for my heart and missed terribly) I finish off the man.

One thousand four hundred and ninety nine.

Only one more to kill.

I knew there were two children in this household. I figured I should go find one of them. And, frankly, that’s what I did. The other was probably hiding in a crevice somewhere or maybe she wasn’t home at all. I didn’t really care. It wasn’t really my problem. I had killed the allotted 1,500 people. No need to worry about another. I remember thinking how I was good and free now, wasn’t I? My contract had been completed. I had kept my bit of the deal, so now it was time to claim the reward. It was time for the other guy to lift his end of the couch.

Too bad I was such a freaking idiot, naive and easily deceived. Of course it was a farce from the beginning—I can’t even really call it treachery, it was so obvious this would be the outcome. Well—not THIS in particular… This situation is one I wouldn’t have even begun to dream of, but I mean the whole reason I’m in this situation in the first place. Ah, well. I guess that’s what happens when you piss off the devil, eh?

I wonder what she’ll be like. I never did see her that day, when I killed her family and burned her house down to ashes. I suppose she’d be pretty pissed with me. I suppose she can join the club, though. I never was Mr. Charisma, was I? No one ever really liked me, honestly. But, really, this is such a drag. I go through the trouble of massacring 1,500 people, scaring the cops into instantly closing every case connected to me, and doing it the old fashioned way—as a humanish being—too. And THIS is what I get? It was bad enough being demoted to a contract demon, but signing my soul to the girl I so mercifully allowed to live? What kind of sick joke is this? C’mon, Lucifer, surely the first punishment was enough… why do I have to suffer through this as well? WHY?

I guess, secretly, I really am freaking out. It’s like this: I am a demon. I’m a demon that pissed off his master. I’m a demon that got demoted to a contract demon, and was forced to a human form and told to kill a boatload of people. Took me six damned years. On my last massacre, I let one girl live. Yeah, I took everything from her except her life. Better than actually taking her life, too, right? I wish I was still breathing. But, no, I’m dead. Oxygen is something I can’t appreciate anymore. Life is something I can’t appreciate anymore. But, this girl, who shouldn’t have gotten any sort of vengeance—she’s gonna be my new master. God knows what she’ll have me do. Obviously, with her probably hating me and all, it won’t be all that nice. And the worst part—at this rate—I’ll never be free.

My ears coaxed me out of my internal rant just as Lucifer started finishing up his lecture—or whatever the hell this was. Sentencing, more like it. My anxiety—as I’ve come to realize that’s what it is—was already showing.
“Oh, one more thing, before I forget,” he said.
“Hm? Oh. What’s that, master?”
“It’s quite amusing, actually. Be sure to read the last page. She can hurt you, kill you even,” his smile was extra malicious, and it was directed toward me. What was wrong with me? It’s… I felt my hands shaking. Looking away from him and down to my hands, I sat and watched them tremble. It felt like my very soul was…I don’t know… paralyzed by a tingling sensation. It’s… it was unpleasant. More unpleasant then the snake-like hiss in my ear.
“You always said you wanted to remember what life felt like. Well, here you are, son. Enjoy your precious life and the fear that comes with it.”

With that, he left me, a trembling form alone in the woods. I was terrified. I hadn’t felt fear in, arguably, decades. Sure—I had felt pain, but I never had to fear for my life. I have no blood in my veins… at least, I didn’t. Now… Well, frankly, at this rate I won’t have any left. What, with the empty hole from the woman now animated as a blackened river. Isn’t blood supposed to be red? Well, mine is black. I guess it’s a reminder that my life is fake, but realer than it was at the same time. I guess I’m some sort of half dead humanoid thing. Isn’t that nice. I know I wanted to be human, but this is ridiculous. I’d rather be a full demon than whatever this is.

Oh, right. Well, that’s the end of my little flashback of sorts. As you can see, I’m still in the woods, keeled over pathetically with my sticky blackened hands trying to keep this tar inside of me, shaking out of strain and fear. What a pathetic picture I must be. But, I’ve made a decision. I already died once. I’m not going to again. So, I’ve gotta convince this girl to release me from the contract I’m about to sign. I don’t care how long it takes me. I’ll get my freedom. I’ll get it ‘cause it should already be mine. I’ll do it, just you wait…

Just you wait…

I’ve just gotta get pumped up. Yeah. YEAH. Bring IT on. BRING IT ON, FOOLS. I’m ready to get through this—I’ll make her see my side of it and she’ll let me go. He’ll see that I’m not that easy to punish. I never was a downer. Depression—HA, I laugh at depression in the face! Or, uh, something like that. I wonder when this chick will get here? Maybe I should try to look a little less pathetic… I should radiate the strength I possess. I’ve just gotta push myself u—



New plan. I’ll just…chill with the worms… for a bit. Hah… I mean, yeah. Something without any bones, they’re pretty…eh…badass… I guess I’ll just… take notes or something… get in good… and make ‘em my peeps… I love you, worms…

Yeah… I’m not going to master egocentrism any time soon. Thanks for listening to my little story, King worm. What’s that? You aren’t the king? Well, you fucking should be. I’d bow down to you. I think I’ll name you George, and you’ll be my best friend. We’ll be inseparable. The demon and the worm. Yeah. King George the Royal Worm of Awesomeness. I love you, Your Highness… Gah… I will never daydream at work again… uhg… the agony…

You know, G-George… I think… I think I don’t like life very much anymore.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Asher Williams Character Portrait: Felicia Usha Preeti Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Quelle
Felicia Usha Preeti
"The end... and the beginning"




Already in the morning, she had such a tickling feeling, such an unusual feeling. Because of her unusual clumsiness, her favourite tee cup shattered into small little pieces. Seriously, something like that was always a bad omen. Though Usha never believed in something like 'misfortune'. For her, there is only hard reality. And that's all there is. But the feeling remained so that she did not pick those pieces up - she just stared at them. "Sister...? Are you okay...?", a male voice sounded from her back which made her turn around and break her trance. It was her little brother. Inside, she was angry that she expected him to call for her - but that is just impossible. "No hell. Hurry up picking up those splinters and don't annoy me with your useless questions." - She did it again. She was cold towards his kind little brother again, who obeyed her and did just like she ordered him to do. Indeed, it annoyed her that she never could express herself clearly. She was not normal, that was her conclusion. Why couldn't she just say: I am unharmed. Thank you for asking. What's so difficult about that? ...- Everything, she answered her own question. She knew it. She would never be able to show gratitude to someone. Some time, in the near future, they will betray her. And she betray them.

She shook off those useless thoughts and get on her motorcycle. Yes, she did not go to school anymore. She already graduated, with some good grades, although her being absent everytime influenced her good grades. But she did not care. She didn't plan to work anyway, there were always people who wanted to work for her. So why sweet herself? It would just look stupid. "Felicia." Her thoughts were interrupted by a strong, manly, but old voice. She turned around and looked into her step fathers face. He already was this old - with many wrinkles on his face and glasses on his nose, but still, his carefree person could someone still see. It somekind hurts her that he looked at her with such begging eyes. But... Usha turned around and started the engine while uninterested saying: "What do you want, old man?", without really wanting to say it. With a side glance, she noticed the deep frown on his forehead as he responded: "I - ... I am always here for you. I'll always be here. Please trust me more." Although he only said that much that time, Usha knew that he wanted to say even more. What he planed to say is until now kept being a secret from Usha - because she just rolled her eyes and rode away.

That day, she had an appointment with someone called 'Mister Garamond' - a guy that as rumors said, had some bunch of money, although more than the half of it were not legal. But it was not in Usha's interest. It was alone the money that made her go to their meeting. Mister Garamond waited for her in a Café... that is what he said. Only that. But Usha already being familar with the criminal world, the only Café which made sense to meet were the one where the owner is as timid as hell - Café Buenno, where the owner did not call the police. He was a too scared quite young man, who is just one unlucky guy having his Café in this town full of criminality. Outside, as Usha came, she already noticed many motorcycle being parked. It seems like Mister Garamond did not came alone. Only that made her making that phone call - just to make sure. They meeting should from the start just be somekind of randez- vous, but him bringing some friends... no, it didn't feel right.

She entered tha Café, and although it was a Café, she smelled strong alcohol and a very thick air - they smoked inside the Café. Usha had to restrain herself not to snatch ther cigarettes and throwed it to the garbage. She forced herself a smile even - what did look very natural (matter of practice) as she spotted a guy with a very shiny vest. He looked like in his 30th and she even noticed that he had one gold teeth. Quite disgust Usha actually, but she remained calm and collected inside, as she played the happy and lovely girl outside. "Felicia Usha. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Garamond!" She stated with a melodic voice which even disgust herself and smiled. Mister Garamond could just laugh. "Good to see you, good to see you! How beautiful you are. Take a seat, take a seat!", he said with a quite loud voice. Surely: It annoyed her. But she - playing the lovely type of girl steps to him and took a seat right beside him, bearing his bad breath. "I hope you don't mind me bringing my boys with me! It's just they wanted to see your beauty too. And really, my informant did not lie how beautiful you are! Indeed, indeed. So now, everyone drink! You too, lovely Felicia." She beared that he stroked her head, she beared that he kissed her, she even beared everything. But as he went even further, and his boys even covered for him, she knew his objective soon and told her 'underlings' with a sign to start the plan retreating. Not long after that, a man screamed from outside: Boss boss, out motorcycles! They were destroyed by some masked people! Please come, we need support outta here chasing them! Then everything became a chaos, and Usha had the freedom to grab the purse of Mister Garamond and unnoticed went out of it, successful.

Yes, it was a normal day in her daily life. Did she wanted to went through all of that? That question is difficult to answer. She has a quite distinctive desire for money, may be the cause of her family being poor before, so she probably wanted to go through all of it. In the other side, she hated that the men just wanted her beauty, her charm, her body even. Sometimes it was very unbearable. But she just had that left to do. That was the only thing where she was definitely better at as her twin sister. And only that made her keep continuing.

Then, that day, the event happened. It was not by chance that she came home very late that day. It was always like that, because the competitions and the bets are always being helt at nights, where the police didn't feel any resposibility to strike in. Perfect time, perfect place - and perfect win. She managed to defeat three opponents. The other three where either suddenly sick/ injured or something was the matter with their motorcycle. And you know that Usha is 'innocent' for those lucky events.

She came back, that day. And found the house on fire. Quickly she called the fire brigade, even the ambulance. But everything was too late. Their bodies were all burnt into black corpses. Her mothers, her step father, her little brother, her twin sister and... the boy. She cried that night, the first time for such long time, and the last time in her life - so she sweared to herself.
Then comes the big question... was it a 'by chance' fire? Or someone set the fire in purpose? She already suspected her 'bad friends' as she looked closely to the corpses of their parents. Unusual to see... blood covering all over their bodies? The carbonised smell was definitely strong - but blood was mixing into it, quite strong blood smell. It could not only be a mere set fire. Her parents were actually killed before the fire. But the police was very stubborn. They said that it was a usual accident. Mad? Yes. It was the first time where she literally flipped off. She yelled, scratched, threatened. But those police are low paid ones. They would never get to troublesome cases like that. Or... something else was in the game? Her having some good contacts to small criminals in her district, she picked out a detective's son. Not the lightest person she ever met, but he could gave her some interesting informations: There was a guy, who made the police scared, so that they gave up on catching him. His face is unknown, and his work were often quite reckless, but in the end effective. He was a nightmare, so that detective son. His quirks were easily compared to the event.
He was the one.
The question is, how she could recognize him if she did not even know his face. But if she'd cross way with him, he do beg that he never was alive. Never.

She easily found a place to stay. With her money, she easily live alone without working for years, so it was not on her concern. The funeral is coming soon. And her heart felt empty. She drove around the night city with her motorcycle, as she arrived at the woods. Yes, inside that, there are many memories. Memories she had forgotten. Memories that made her remember at the happy days. She did not notice she shed a small tiny tear. How could she have forgotten all those good memories? She remained on her motorcycle, as then she decided to park and go through the woods. Her eyes were still quite wet, but she herself already calmed down a bit. As then she noticed that small little pathetic looking being: some guy keeled over pathetically with his sticky blackened hands and strangly shaking his body as if he feared something. Did he fear the darkness or something? Usha, although she still feel the sadness of the event, she couldn't help but despite such a creature. Probably some guy without home and work, she thought. "What the hell are you doing? It's really irritating to see someone like you. Piss off somewhere, bum." She said with an irritated tone. He looked like he was in the end of the world. But instead like that, he should better off searching for a job. Yes, she despised someone like him - her expression showed that well. And although she didn't want to have anything to do with him, his black hand were quite concerned her. Was he...? Maybe. Everyone could be him. She just had to know more...
"What's up with your hand?", more straight forwardly as that is impossible; her glare kept alerted. This guy was too strange being a mere bum - that's for sure.