Author: PetPetAngel PM
Ghirahim's life needed purpose and a new demon was on the rise. A pre-game Ghirademi story.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Romance - Ghirahim & Demise - Chapters: 5 - Words: 4,393 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 11 - Follows: 9 - Updated: 01-21-12 - Published: 01-19-12 - id: 7756118
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
So here is the first part of my Ghirademi fic! This was does not yet have the clear direction that "Nothing" had-it's just a few scenes that I've envisioned defining Ghirahim's life and servitude to Demise. Although it starts with a very young Ghirahim, they'll probably be a time shift in a few chapters so that I can realistically work to end this story with the great battle between the Goddess and Demise. Be patient as I figure out where this goes!
Brutal Ch. 1
When he was born, he was nothing.
A weak demon without any purpose, he wandered the underworld, waiting for a day when humans would not rule over him, waited for the day when a life he wanted could be his. Alone in the world, his parents slaughtered by human hunters, he waited with patience that a child of his age shouldn't have.
The underworld was not so much an underworld as much as it was a hidden life flourishing in the shadows of each and every town. He had a hard time traveling with his unique looks, so pale and sickly looking with a shock of short white hair, and he was intensely jealous of those demons who were able to take on a human appearance. They did business regularly with humans, accumulating great wealth by weaseling their way into positions of power with humans.
For the majority of them, it was difficult to live though. The Goddess protected her people with unparalleled fervor, and purges throughout the towns killed many a demon each day, each month, each year. Those purges had killed his parents, and forced all but the more discrete of demons into hiding.
He went from house to house, staying with others for as long as they would allow, but demons as a race were rather inhospitable, often leaving him scavenging for food and shelter. He fought, he killed. He lived an unsavory life, often filled with abuse and anger-he quickly learned that no one would take care of him other than himself.
By the time he turned ten (although this was just an approximate estimate of age, as his life had gone by without real record) a new demon was on the rise: Demise, he was called, and his name had been spreading by word of mouth for months, maybe years.
Demise had plans, big plans, preposterous plans, but he liked those plans, and so when Demise made the call to start organizing an army, he started looking for him. It was only a rumor, and Demise's real location was hard to pinpoint-it seemed as though he were always on the move, probably tactically wise since demons didn't like to be ruled over or controlled.
It only made him look for him more intently. He needed to be lead, directed to action.
He searched for weeks, growing hungry and weak without food and rest, but he wouldn't, couldn't stop. It took him almost a month before he found him, but his guards wouldn't allow even him, a weak, young demon, to go near. He fought them, but they knocked him unconscious easily and carried him away, so that when he woke up, he didn't know where he was.
It was frustrating, but he was determined. He tried again and again to get close to Demise, and on his fourth try, fate seemed to be on his side. The guards were determined to throw him out (now, they knew who he was and mocked him, laughed at him, 'weakling', 'nothing', they called him) but they were stopped by an order from a higher up, telling them that Demise wanted to meet 'this nuisance.'
The place where Demise was staying gave the sense of a dirty type of grandeur, where it was likely that nothing was acquired honestly. It was dark and the lighting was kept intentionally low, so low that he had difficulty seeing the faces of the guards holding him once they walked inside.
There were riches everywhere, flaunting Demise's growing wealth and power, and he had to stop himself from stealing anything, as just one piece of gold or silver could liekly feed him for weeks. No, that wasn't what he was here for: he wanted to fight for Demise, and it wouldn't do him any good to make a poor first impression: he looked bad enough as it was.
They were deep inside the structure when they reached the room where Demise was kept and he was stunned by the sheer size of the demon. He was so large that as a child, he probably was as tall as Demise's knee, and fiery hair spurted from Demise's head, only increasing his large appearance. His muscles flexed with every move and small, crimson, beady eyes considered him with a sort of interested disinterest.
"Who are you who dare come after me, boy?" came the booming voice that made his heart beat faster. He hated that all these demons could attest to his physiological response, but he refused to let his voice reflect his embarrassment, his fear.
The guards threw him roughly on the ground, his reflexes alone stopping him from injuring himself as he arranged himself into a bow.
"My name is Ghirahim. I am here to grant you my servitude, Master Demise."