Until Death Brings You

      Although one would think that hell would be hot, lost, and devious souls screaming out in agony as demons tortured them for all eternity, led by Lucifer himself, instead deep red eyes watched a barren landscape. Scarlet eyes watched as tornado’s, made of red brimstone, moved in the distance, warm air whipping his hair about. A man, dressed in red and black, a cane in his right hand, stood on the edge of a mountain. His hair was made up of different shades of red and black, shoulder length but for the feather like tufts on the top of his head. He wore glasses, tinted yellow, and he had a huge smile, filled with sharp yellow teeth, placed on his face. He was tall, standing a little over 7 feet, and built slender, but with muscle definition. His skin was pale, almost porcelain as some would describe.            He laughed a little as something in the distance became caught up in one of the tornado’s, something that sounded like a scream coming across the land. Shaking his head, the man turned on his heel, heading back towards the large city behind him. The cane tapped against the hard bedrock below, and the man began to whistle a nonsensible tune. Every so often he would spin his cane, an ornate piece that twisted and seemed to be alive. It seemed to be made of a deep, ebony colored wood, the head of it was egg shaped, and it looked to have a closed eye set into it.            As the whistling continued, what sounded like a phone ringing started to emit from the cane, a large red eye opening on the head of it. The man continued walking, the lights and sound from the city breaking through the silence that the empty land had. As the cane continuing to ring, a voice floated up from the man’s hand. It was high-pitched, crackling as if it was radio communication.               “Hello boss, anyone home? Someone is trying to reach you. You gonna answer?”            The man c****d his head to the side, the wide, unnerving smile still tugging at his face. When he spoke, his voice was low, but deep, authority running through his tone. “And what, or who, pray-tell is calling my dear?”            “A being who calls itself Teller, they say it’s urgent.”            The scarlet eyed man smiled, “Then let him through.”            The cane stopped it’s ringing, and a new voice came through, “Hello Alistar, long time, no talk. Where are you right now?” The voice was rough, as if Teller hadn’t been sleeping.            Alistar, grin still pinned to his face, rolled his eyes, “Teller, the name doesn’t sound familiar, and neither does your voice. Do you mind jogging my memory as to how I might know you?”            The voice on the other end let out an angry sigh, “Don’t play f*****g games with me Alistar, you know who I am and why I’m reaching out.”            “Hm…”, Alistar put a gloved hand to his cheek, one long, slender finger tapping against his face slowly. He c****d his body to the side, stopping as his foot began to tap as well. After 30 seconds had gone by, he chuckled a little, shaking his head and causing his hair to whip about his face. “I can’t say I do know who you are, or why you are calling. And if that’s it…”, he proceeded to end the conversation, continuing on his way to the city.            The tall buildings started to loom above the sky, blocking out anything but smog and neon auras coming from the abundance of signs everywhere. Explicit signs, advertising things from strip clubs to drugs stretched as far as the eye could see. Creatures of all shapes and sizes were roaming the streets. Vending machines boasting illicit drugs, and different alcohols lined what looked to be street shops.            As Alistar continued down the sidewalk, the creatures around him moved quickly out of his way. Some hissed, some looked on in unconcealed horror, tripping over themselves and others to get as far from him as possible. As they ducked into alleyways, and buildings, the man’s grin seemed to get impossibly bigger, and he couldn’t help but chuckle lightly to himself.            He slowed down a little as he reached a shop with no neon light. Instead, the shop had no name, but the floor to ceiling windows housed what seemed to be rows upon rows of books. Alistar hummed to himself before entering through the door, his cane tapping lightly against the ground. To his left, a large counter, papers scattered all around, sat empty. On the very top, a little bell shined against the soft light emitted from the bulbs hanging from the ceiling.            Alistar moved to the counter, hitting the bell lightly and leaning forward against the wood with his arms crossed loosely. He took the time to look at his gloved fingers, picking imaginary lint from them as he waited for the only employee, the owner, to appear from wherever he had taken refuge at.            Shuffling from the back a few minutes later had the scarlet-eyed man looking up from his fingers and grinning at the creature moving towards him. The man had a curved back, small bat-like wings shook erratically behind him. His hair was gray, and he appeared older than Alistar. Skin the color of charcoal and lava was wrinkled and looked thin to the eye. He wore a black dress suit, and large black horns erupted from his forehead, like a mountain goat. Instead of feet, hooves hit the floor, making a clacking sound as he continued his shuffle towards Alistar.            When the man finally made it to the counter, he looked up and coal black met red. He frowned deeply, and even though the rest of him was wrinkled and weathered, his eyes remained as sharp as the man before him, and he scoffed when Alistar’s smile grew ever bigger.            “What do I owe the displeasure of you darkening my doorstep Alistar?”, the old man’s voice was soft, an edge added to the words as he started to gather up the paper’s scattered on the counter. One wing drooped lower than the other, and when he moved his shoulders, a pop could be heard coming from one of the wings.            “My dear friend Neveran, whatever do you mean? We always have such fun when we meet up. You can’t certainly be upset to see me. Can’t an old friend just stop by and say hello?”, Alistar swept some dust from where he had his arms.            Neveran c****d an eyebrow, scoffing once more. “You never show up just to chit-chat. What do you want? I won’t ask again. I’m busy, and you’re interrupting.            Alistar started tapping his fingers against the counter, red eyes scanning the books and scrolls lining the bookshelves. “I’m looking for a particular book. A book of magic, and about the bigger monsters that live beneath us. You know the one’s. Just some light reading, and maybe some research.”            The old man eyed Alistar, distrust playing in his features. “Do I even dare ask why you need to look this up?”            Red eyes locking with black, Alistar never lost his grin, “A gentleman never reveals his intentions…”