Post by AshVersion2 on Jul 13, 2006 11:41:35 GMT -5
David Gabriel
“The name’s Gabriel. David Gabriel. A$$hole.”
The pale yet toned, withdrawn yet handsome young man of 18 looked behind him, then turned back to the iron door in front of him.
“Are you gonna let me in, or do I have to punch-line you?”
The slit in the door closed abruptly. David glanced behind him once more. He hated coming here - it wasn’t his style. He’d rather be practising, collecting. Even waiting. Still, he retorted to himself, it has to be better than sitting on his a** playing PlayStation like some long-lost fat loser with no friends.
The iron door was opened, and David stepped inside. He glared at the seven-foot bouncer as he half-strolled, half-strutted past him.
“Well it’s about time - I was getting bored”
~
David Gabriel. David Gabriel, the butthead who’s sarcasm mirrors his ego. David Gabriel, the martial artist. David Gabriel, the angelic demon with a taste for the dramatics. David Gabriel - the anti-Christian exorcist.
~
The red lighting of the underground club reflected his reason of entrance there. He walked straight through to the back, trying to ignore the pull of the mosh pit and alcohol-dominant bar, the topless girls and raving band. Another bouncer, even bigger (’fatter’ was the word that popped into David’s head) than the last, stopped him at a second iron door that blended into the wall - you didn‘t want any drunk clubbers stumbling across meeting like this one.
“Password?”
David inwardly rolled his eyes and tutted. The one who awaited him behind the door really needed a lesson in security management - vocal passwords are the wave of the past.
“Balthazar”
~
Eight-year-old David Gabriel grinned. This was the ultimate prank. He would be a God amongst men at school for at least a whole entire week! He caressed the small box, silently begging its contents to stay there. His teacher had detained him one too many lunchtimes. It’s payback time, David Gabriel-style!
He’d already super-glued the teacher to the chair - that was safe and done. He tapped the box, resulting in screeches from the inside. Brilliant, he thought, his Cheshire Cat smile lighting up his face. They’re still alive.
He deftly wandered into the darkened room where he had trapped his now-terrified teacher. He walked slowly up to her, a boy with a glint in his eye and triumph in his grasp. He may be young, but he was smart - he had done his research. As he poured the mixture of scarab beetles and faeces on top of the horrified woman’s head, he relished in her disgusted screams - and realised that he was an absolute genius.
When the others found out about the prank, and what he had done - he wasn’t a God. He was a freak.
~
David was swiftly ushered through the door. Blindfolded, the bouncer led him down windless corridors, going downhill, the air steadily growing more and more stale. Although David had never seen the damp-feeling corridor in which he walked, he felt sure that other tunnels branched off of it. Keeping traitors in.
After several minutes in which David got used to the air, he heard the squeal of rusty hinges in front of him. His blindfold was removed, and he was shoved through the old door into a medium-sized room of semi-darkness. He gazed around in recognition. An oak desk, its wood darkened by the lack of lighting and dank location. Two large leather chairs, their exterior full of patches and holes from were resident bugs had chewed themselves a worthy feast. A tapestry of David’s namesake visiting the Virgin Mary hung on one wall, an vivid and graphic painting of Jesus’ crucifixion hung on another, a replica of the Spear of Destiny stood in a case nailed to a third wall, a large open Bible on a stand beneath it.
“Hello, David.”
David whipped his head around towards the voice. At the sight of the face, he let out a soft laugh.
“So, He sends saints to do His dirty work now. Angels are one thing, but saints - I feel flattered. Does it mean that I get a raise too, along with my promotion?”
“Very funny, David”
“And sending the gate-keeper - wow, you know, I’m honoured, seriously.” David raised his voice and tilted his head upwards, “Seriously, honoured!”
“David - ”
“Peter, what does He want this time?” He approached the saint and tapped the crossed-key pendent on his chest, “What’s so important that he sends his rock?”
“Number six, David - ‘Thou shalt not kill’.”
David snorted, “That wasn’t my fault! The demon - ”
Peter interrupted - “The demon possessed her - you pulled it out - “
“It was inside her for too long, it was too late to save her before I’d even got there, she died - “
“ - of the knife that you stuck into her to make sure that she was dead, David. It was the knife that killed her.”
“Bullshit!”
David stomped over to the Bible on its stand, desperately leafing through it, wishing for a loophole. Peter merely looked on, unflinching.
~
The exorcism hadn’t gone to plan. As David had approached the large, derelict apartment building, he heard a scream slamming through a window several floors above him.
“Shit!”
He raced up the stairs of the building, pushing past wannabe gangstas and mortified Orientals. He shoved his way through an apartment door - number 603 - and dashed through the apartment, towards the screams. The sight that awaited him was far from pretty.
The little girl had been tied to the bed by her parents and the priest that had called him. She can’t have been older than 10. She stopped thrashing around long enough to glare at him. He smirked back, winking.
“Am I that irresistible? Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t do demons.”
The possessed girl screeched and started to thrash around again. David got onto the bed and sat on her to keep her as still as he could. Not an easy feat with this girl. He firmly put his left hand over her eyes and most of her face, muttering spells, ignoring her screams of anguish. He kept his right hand behind his back - he didn’t want the demon to see what he was holding until it was pulled out. It would kill her.
He could see it now, and feel it too - it was making the poor girl scream more, thrash more in her torment. He continued to mutter. The sun was seeping into the window, showing off the natural blonde in his short brown hair. Suddenly, without warning, the demon burst out of the girl through her throat, spraying David with blood. He got off of the girl, standing now, a strong combat stance.
“What the - ?” David gasped to himself, “This never happens . . . I wouldn’t expect it of even a demon master, let alone a soldier demon . . . ?”
The soldier demon had now attached itself to the now-bloody ceiling of the room. It looked down on David with it’s red bug-like eyes, baring its rotten sharp teeth, growling, drooling. It almost, David pondered, looked like Gollum. Only with redder skin, white eyes and black armour.
David whipped his hand from behind his back, which held an elaborate symbol that was a cross between a crucifix and an upside down pentacle, shouting, “In the name of God, I send thee back to the fires of Hell!”. Then under his breath, as the demon screamed and exploded in a ball of fire, he muttered, “And let the cheesy line burn the wicked bustards.”
He turned to the wretched girl on the bed. She hadn’t moved. David stared at her - this was another thing that never happened. He had done dozens, even hundreds of exorcisms in the past. He had never failed, they had never died. It seemed impossible to him. And since when had demons been able to chew their way through people?!
Still bouncing between thoughts, he approached the battered child. He found no pulse, felt no breath. He backed away, slowly. His face contorted into one of anger. He threw his head up towards the sky, screaming; “Why?! What did I do this time?! Nobody’s supposed to die!”
In his anger, David took out his knife. Painful thoughts of suicide flashed inside his mind. A mortal sin - that would show Him a thing or two, especially after what He’d done. He took the knife down to his left wrist, both wild and prepared. In his minds eye, he could see himself slowly drawing it across his wrist, watching the blood flow out of it as he slumps to the floor. But he couldn’t do it. He was David Gabriel - that wasn’t his style. The only thing he could do to relieve his anger was randomly throw his knife - fate played a cruel hand by plunging it into the girl on the bloodstained bed.
~
“Endless restrictions, countless regulations, contradictory rules - WHY?!”
David flung the Bible across the room, where it landed at Peter’s feet, who continued to stare at David, unmovable.
“We can’t help you anymore, David. God accepted you into His good graces out of pity. Now you’ve betrayed Him in your anger.”
David, in a fresh bout of hurt and hate, smashed his fist through the glass case containing the Spear of Destiny replica. He grabbed it and pointed it at Peter, who still hadn’t moved.
“David - “
“You listen to me, butthead!” David yelled, cutting across the saints words, “there are worse things I could do! I didn’t ask for any of this sh*t! I’m David Gabriel, not God’s slave boy!”
He edged closer to Peter, his green eyes flashing, reflecting the betrayal, the hurt, the pain, the pure Hell inside him. He’d been dealing with these kinds of screw-overs for three years - it felt like thirty to him. After all he’d said and done to other people . . . maybe he deserved to go back.
“You can’t help who you’re reborn as.” Peter calmly stated, “You are - as you said - David Gabriel. One of the few people that Satan would come for himself.”
David snorted, still pointing the Spear at the unflinching Peter.
“Heh, is that my second-finest achievement then? Making Lucifer’s Top Ten Most Wanted list!” He tried his best not to think about the headaches that the Anti-Christ must get from chasing him around the world - and from having so many names.
“If you call that an achievement, then yes, it is.” Peter softly replied, staring down David’s Spear, which was scratching his throat, “It comes right under killing the Son of the Devil.”
~
Is Heaven really much better than Hell? That may seem obvious, but 32-year-old David Gabriel, having a lot of time to think about things, reckoned that there was very little difference between the two superpowers. Both wanted control. Both had unimaginable power. Both want worship. Both kill. Even their goals are the same - control the Earth. And both were a pain in David’s a**.
He sat in his Circle of Protection. He had never before been granted the privilege of the Circle - he had no excuse. Besides - he sure wasn’t Satan’s favourite tenant. Never mind the fact that he killed his son - he kept leaving the toilet seat up.
He looked around him, eyeing up the burning mountains, from which the souls of the damned were thrown by the likes of the soldier demons. He turned, and saw that the Fiery Pit only contained a few souls - the ones that had managed to hurt any of the demons - David called it a punishment within THE punishment. The so-called ’condemned’, even though they could never die, were thrown in, then the iron bars on top pulled over it, keeping them in, unable to escape from the fire. David recalled the amount of time that5 he had spent there - enough to get semi-used to pain. In Hell, you can run and hide - but there’s always something after you, some booby-trap to fall into. The only way to escape the pain was the Circle in which David now sat - and you only got that if you had a meeting with the big guy upstairs.
Without warning, David felt a pull like he had never before felt, except perhaps when he was being torn to mangled, bloody shreds by demons. He was thrust upward, through the black sky, demons and damned watching below. He closed his eyes tightly, not baring to have them open at the speed he was moving. Suddenly, he could feel himself stopping - the kind of stop that would give someone on Earth a broken neck. David opened his eyes and gazed around him, impressed. He knew that he wouldn’t be granted passage to Heaven - or even Earth - so he should have guessed that there was only one other place left. Space. David took a good look, marvelling at beauty that he hadn’t seen in a very long time. The calm of it.
“David?” A soft voice spoke.
He whipped around - no one was there.
The soft voice spoke again; “It’s me, David. I know you can hear me.”
“Nice to see that you know I exist.”
“Always the sarcastic one.”
David hadn’t expected such a small voice from such a powerful force - the big booming voice just seemed to suit the big guy more.
“So - you wanted something? It’s just, I was in the middle of having my head ripped off - that’s always fun.”
“I want you out of Hell.”
David laughed - He was the one that sent him there!
“Changed your mind, have you, God? I didn’t know that I had an ace up my sleeve!”
“I’m not taking you to Heaven - you’ll go back to Earth, a new man. Boy.”
“Why?” David frowned - there had to be a catch. There was no lottery.
“I want you to earn your way past the gates. You killed Satan’s boy - “
“So an accident! He shouldn’t have been on Earth in the first place! He was about to kill my wife - what did you expect me to do? Piss myself and cry?!”
“ - and for taking a life, I sent you to Hell. It’s the rules. But I think you deserve a second chance. Lucifer disagrees - obviously - so this has been kept very quiet. No one knows that you’re here, David, or why.”
“Flattered.”
“In exchange for your new life,” He continued, “you will, when I deem you ready, work for me as an exorcist. If you do my will, you will see me after your second death.”
David mulled it over, “Will I remember any of this?”
“No.”
“Shit. So who’s to say that I won’t be an utter basterd in my next life and earn Hell again?”
“No one - you have full control, even in choosing to do the exorcisms.”
David went through the options in his mind. Say no - go back to Hell and endure the wrath of Hell for all eternity. Not pretty. Say yes - get reborn and possibly make it to Heaven, as long as he’s a good boy and does God‘s bidding. Slightly less nasty - despite the gruesome exorcisms.
“Get on with it, before I change my mind.”
“Good - David Gabriel, you are reborn!”
“The name’s Gabriel. David Gabriel. A$$hole.”
The pale yet toned, withdrawn yet handsome young man of 18 looked behind him, then turned back to the iron door in front of him.
“Are you gonna let me in, or do I have to punch-line you?”
The slit in the door closed abruptly. David glanced behind him once more. He hated coming here - it wasn’t his style. He’d rather be practising, collecting. Even waiting. Still, he retorted to himself, it has to be better than sitting on his a** playing PlayStation like some long-lost fat loser with no friends.
The iron door was opened, and David stepped inside. He glared at the seven-foot bouncer as he half-strolled, half-strutted past him.
“Well it’s about time - I was getting bored”
~
David Gabriel. David Gabriel, the butthead who’s sarcasm mirrors his ego. David Gabriel, the martial artist. David Gabriel, the angelic demon with a taste for the dramatics. David Gabriel - the anti-Christian exorcist.
~
The red lighting of the underground club reflected his reason of entrance there. He walked straight through to the back, trying to ignore the pull of the mosh pit and alcohol-dominant bar, the topless girls and raving band. Another bouncer, even bigger (’fatter’ was the word that popped into David’s head) than the last, stopped him at a second iron door that blended into the wall - you didn‘t want any drunk clubbers stumbling across meeting like this one.
“Password?”
David inwardly rolled his eyes and tutted. The one who awaited him behind the door really needed a lesson in security management - vocal passwords are the wave of the past.
“Balthazar”
~
Eight-year-old David Gabriel grinned. This was the ultimate prank. He would be a God amongst men at school for at least a whole entire week! He caressed the small box, silently begging its contents to stay there. His teacher had detained him one too many lunchtimes. It’s payback time, David Gabriel-style!
He’d already super-glued the teacher to the chair - that was safe and done. He tapped the box, resulting in screeches from the inside. Brilliant, he thought, his Cheshire Cat smile lighting up his face. They’re still alive.
He deftly wandered into the darkened room where he had trapped his now-terrified teacher. He walked slowly up to her, a boy with a glint in his eye and triumph in his grasp. He may be young, but he was smart - he had done his research. As he poured the mixture of scarab beetles and faeces on top of the horrified woman’s head, he relished in her disgusted screams - and realised that he was an absolute genius.
When the others found out about the prank, and what he had done - he wasn’t a God. He was a freak.
~
David was swiftly ushered through the door. Blindfolded, the bouncer led him down windless corridors, going downhill, the air steadily growing more and more stale. Although David had never seen the damp-feeling corridor in which he walked, he felt sure that other tunnels branched off of it. Keeping traitors in.
After several minutes in which David got used to the air, he heard the squeal of rusty hinges in front of him. His blindfold was removed, and he was shoved through the old door into a medium-sized room of semi-darkness. He gazed around in recognition. An oak desk, its wood darkened by the lack of lighting and dank location. Two large leather chairs, their exterior full of patches and holes from were resident bugs had chewed themselves a worthy feast. A tapestry of David’s namesake visiting the Virgin Mary hung on one wall, an vivid and graphic painting of Jesus’ crucifixion hung on another, a replica of the Spear of Destiny stood in a case nailed to a third wall, a large open Bible on a stand beneath it.
“Hello, David.”
David whipped his head around towards the voice. At the sight of the face, he let out a soft laugh.
“So, He sends saints to do His dirty work now. Angels are one thing, but saints - I feel flattered. Does it mean that I get a raise too, along with my promotion?”
“Very funny, David”
“And sending the gate-keeper - wow, you know, I’m honoured, seriously.” David raised his voice and tilted his head upwards, “Seriously, honoured!”
“David - ”
“Peter, what does He want this time?” He approached the saint and tapped the crossed-key pendent on his chest, “What’s so important that he sends his rock?”
“Number six, David - ‘Thou shalt not kill’.”
David snorted, “That wasn’t my fault! The demon - ”
Peter interrupted - “The demon possessed her - you pulled it out - “
“It was inside her for too long, it was too late to save her before I’d even got there, she died - “
“ - of the knife that you stuck into her to make sure that she was dead, David. It was the knife that killed her.”
“Bullshit!”
David stomped over to the Bible on its stand, desperately leafing through it, wishing for a loophole. Peter merely looked on, unflinching.
~
The exorcism hadn’t gone to plan. As David had approached the large, derelict apartment building, he heard a scream slamming through a window several floors above him.
“Shit!”
He raced up the stairs of the building, pushing past wannabe gangstas and mortified Orientals. He shoved his way through an apartment door - number 603 - and dashed through the apartment, towards the screams. The sight that awaited him was far from pretty.
The little girl had been tied to the bed by her parents and the priest that had called him. She can’t have been older than 10. She stopped thrashing around long enough to glare at him. He smirked back, winking.
“Am I that irresistible? Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t do demons.”
The possessed girl screeched and started to thrash around again. David got onto the bed and sat on her to keep her as still as he could. Not an easy feat with this girl. He firmly put his left hand over her eyes and most of her face, muttering spells, ignoring her screams of anguish. He kept his right hand behind his back - he didn’t want the demon to see what he was holding until it was pulled out. It would kill her.
He could see it now, and feel it too - it was making the poor girl scream more, thrash more in her torment. He continued to mutter. The sun was seeping into the window, showing off the natural blonde in his short brown hair. Suddenly, without warning, the demon burst out of the girl through her throat, spraying David with blood. He got off of the girl, standing now, a strong combat stance.
“What the - ?” David gasped to himself, “This never happens . . . I wouldn’t expect it of even a demon master, let alone a soldier demon . . . ?”
The soldier demon had now attached itself to the now-bloody ceiling of the room. It looked down on David with it’s red bug-like eyes, baring its rotten sharp teeth, growling, drooling. It almost, David pondered, looked like Gollum. Only with redder skin, white eyes and black armour.
David whipped his hand from behind his back, which held an elaborate symbol that was a cross between a crucifix and an upside down pentacle, shouting, “In the name of God, I send thee back to the fires of Hell!”. Then under his breath, as the demon screamed and exploded in a ball of fire, he muttered, “And let the cheesy line burn the wicked bustards.”
He turned to the wretched girl on the bed. She hadn’t moved. David stared at her - this was another thing that never happened. He had done dozens, even hundreds of exorcisms in the past. He had never failed, they had never died. It seemed impossible to him. And since when had demons been able to chew their way through people?!
Still bouncing between thoughts, he approached the battered child. He found no pulse, felt no breath. He backed away, slowly. His face contorted into one of anger. He threw his head up towards the sky, screaming; “Why?! What did I do this time?! Nobody’s supposed to die!”
In his anger, David took out his knife. Painful thoughts of suicide flashed inside his mind. A mortal sin - that would show Him a thing or two, especially after what He’d done. He took the knife down to his left wrist, both wild and prepared. In his minds eye, he could see himself slowly drawing it across his wrist, watching the blood flow out of it as he slumps to the floor. But he couldn’t do it. He was David Gabriel - that wasn’t his style. The only thing he could do to relieve his anger was randomly throw his knife - fate played a cruel hand by plunging it into the girl on the bloodstained bed.
~
“Endless restrictions, countless regulations, contradictory rules - WHY?!”
David flung the Bible across the room, where it landed at Peter’s feet, who continued to stare at David, unmovable.
“We can’t help you anymore, David. God accepted you into His good graces out of pity. Now you’ve betrayed Him in your anger.”
David, in a fresh bout of hurt and hate, smashed his fist through the glass case containing the Spear of Destiny replica. He grabbed it and pointed it at Peter, who still hadn’t moved.
“David - “
“You listen to me, butthead!” David yelled, cutting across the saints words, “there are worse things I could do! I didn’t ask for any of this sh*t! I’m David Gabriel, not God’s slave boy!”
He edged closer to Peter, his green eyes flashing, reflecting the betrayal, the hurt, the pain, the pure Hell inside him. He’d been dealing with these kinds of screw-overs for three years - it felt like thirty to him. After all he’d said and done to other people . . . maybe he deserved to go back.
“You can’t help who you’re reborn as.” Peter calmly stated, “You are - as you said - David Gabriel. One of the few people that Satan would come for himself.”
David snorted, still pointing the Spear at the unflinching Peter.
“Heh, is that my second-finest achievement then? Making Lucifer’s Top Ten Most Wanted list!” He tried his best not to think about the headaches that the Anti-Christ must get from chasing him around the world - and from having so many names.
“If you call that an achievement, then yes, it is.” Peter softly replied, staring down David’s Spear, which was scratching his throat, “It comes right under killing the Son of the Devil.”
~
Is Heaven really much better than Hell? That may seem obvious, but 32-year-old David Gabriel, having a lot of time to think about things, reckoned that there was very little difference between the two superpowers. Both wanted control. Both had unimaginable power. Both want worship. Both kill. Even their goals are the same - control the Earth. And both were a pain in David’s a**.
He sat in his Circle of Protection. He had never before been granted the privilege of the Circle - he had no excuse. Besides - he sure wasn’t Satan’s favourite tenant. Never mind the fact that he killed his son - he kept leaving the toilet seat up.
He looked around him, eyeing up the burning mountains, from which the souls of the damned were thrown by the likes of the soldier demons. He turned, and saw that the Fiery Pit only contained a few souls - the ones that had managed to hurt any of the demons - David called it a punishment within THE punishment. The so-called ’condemned’, even though they could never die, were thrown in, then the iron bars on top pulled over it, keeping them in, unable to escape from the fire. David recalled the amount of time that5 he had spent there - enough to get semi-used to pain. In Hell, you can run and hide - but there’s always something after you, some booby-trap to fall into. The only way to escape the pain was the Circle in which David now sat - and you only got that if you had a meeting with the big guy upstairs.
Without warning, David felt a pull like he had never before felt, except perhaps when he was being torn to mangled, bloody shreds by demons. He was thrust upward, through the black sky, demons and damned watching below. He closed his eyes tightly, not baring to have them open at the speed he was moving. Suddenly, he could feel himself stopping - the kind of stop that would give someone on Earth a broken neck. David opened his eyes and gazed around him, impressed. He knew that he wouldn’t be granted passage to Heaven - or even Earth - so he should have guessed that there was only one other place left. Space. David took a good look, marvelling at beauty that he hadn’t seen in a very long time. The calm of it.
“David?” A soft voice spoke.
He whipped around - no one was there.
The soft voice spoke again; “It’s me, David. I know you can hear me.”
“Nice to see that you know I exist.”
“Always the sarcastic one.”
David hadn’t expected such a small voice from such a powerful force - the big booming voice just seemed to suit the big guy more.
“So - you wanted something? It’s just, I was in the middle of having my head ripped off - that’s always fun.”
“I want you out of Hell.”
David laughed - He was the one that sent him there!
“Changed your mind, have you, God? I didn’t know that I had an ace up my sleeve!”
“I’m not taking you to Heaven - you’ll go back to Earth, a new man. Boy.”
“Why?” David frowned - there had to be a catch. There was no lottery.
“I want you to earn your way past the gates. You killed Satan’s boy - “
“So an accident! He shouldn’t have been on Earth in the first place! He was about to kill my wife - what did you expect me to do? Piss myself and cry?!”
“ - and for taking a life, I sent you to Hell. It’s the rules. But I think you deserve a second chance. Lucifer disagrees - obviously - so this has been kept very quiet. No one knows that you’re here, David, or why.”
“Flattered.”
“In exchange for your new life,” He continued, “you will, when I deem you ready, work for me as an exorcist. If you do my will, you will see me after your second death.”
David mulled it over, “Will I remember any of this?”
“No.”
“Shit. So who’s to say that I won’t be an utter basterd in my next life and earn Hell again?”
“No one - you have full control, even in choosing to do the exorcisms.”
David went through the options in his mind. Say no - go back to Hell and endure the wrath of Hell for all eternity. Not pretty. Say yes - get reborn and possibly make it to Heaven, as long as he’s a good boy and does God‘s bidding. Slightly less nasty - despite the gruesome exorcisms.
“Get on with it, before I change my mind.”
“Good - David Gabriel, you are reborn!”
wen u gt 1/2 a chance send me somethin 2 evaluate b4 the 15th!!!! PLEASE!!!!!! coz then im away till the 26th (then its mountain explorin time 
)
