gospel
"The weak ones are there to justify the strong"
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[div class=textbox] The sun was a burning aura of reds and oranges, cascading across the New Mexico horizon like an artist's canvas. The faint coo of a hawk could be heard in the distance, indicating that it was near time for it to progress into it's moment of hunting for the evening. The scent of chicken broth and beans filled the young man's nostrils as he stepped into an old home, it's atmosphere calming and peaceful. By the fire place, stood a woman, adorned in the finest of Mexican clothing, and her silky-black hair cascading across the middle of her back. When the sound of the door followed the young man with a soft click, she turned away from her cooking and gazed her doe-like eyes on her son. A smile was faint on her lips, drawing up her freckled cheeks as she realized who it was who stepped into her home.
"Buenas dias, hijo."
Her words were soft, melodic, and it brought a warm sensation to Ashley's chest, as he smiled back at the woman who gave him life. Walking over to her, arms open wide, his mother returned the offer and held her son close to her - as if her life depended on it. Arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her head held itself against his chest, her eyes closed as she breathed in deeply through her nostrils. Placing his lips at the top of her scalp, Ashley gave a low chuckle as relief washed itself and lifted the heaviness off his shoulders. He was home... he was home at last.
***
Instantly, Ashley's eyes shot open, a loud gasp escaping past his cracked lips. The burning sensation in his chest had returned, and the aroma of burning wood caused him to cough, blood spluttering out and sprinkling across his chin and all over the dirt underneath him. Bullet holes riddled the front of his torso, while a couple more managed to mark his back. Blood stained his white shirt, clinging on to his body. Searching for one more gasp of air, Ashley began to push himself off the ground, the muscles within his body tightening at the very movement he began to display. Groaning, Ashley's eyes closed tightly, trying to withstand the searing pain, but eventually he was able to stand on his wobbling legs.
Around him, buildings were in flames, the crackling of wood resembling near closely the sound of thunder, as they were all beginning to collapse from their weakened state. Those who had lingered to witness the fight, were nearly finishing their packing - the look of absolute fear in their eyes. They looked at him as the enemy at first, but after what had happened, they see him now as a monster. Nothing more. Dead bodies laid spewed all over Main Street. The remaining remnants of what was once The Devil's Sons was now gone... and it was all because of Ashley Elizar Santos - The Grim Reaper of New Mexico.
After a few seconds of adjusting his mind from the dream he had, to the reality he was standing in, Ashley's breathing grew ragged as his hazel eyes lowered themselves to the ground, and off to the left, before he felt his legs nearly give out from under him again. Laying in a heap, black hair blowing from the gust of desert wind, what was once his mother... before she was brutally murdered in front of him by one of the members. Blood splayed in a pool under her, a big gape open across her throat, and her eyes looking up lifelessly at the desert sky. Tears began to sting Ashley's eyes, his chest tightening, and his breathing heavy as he limped towards her. Upon reaching her body, he fell to his knees, before finishing out the gape between them, on all fours.
Soft sobs began to make their ways out of his mouth, his throat dry from the sand he had inhaled, and the lack of water he had obtained within the several hours prior to now. Everything around him was spinning, spiraling, as he picked his mother up and pulled her weakly on to his lap - before rocking back and forth and allowing the cries to bellow out like a lone wolf.
"Lo siento, madre."
As he continued to sway, the loud creaking roar of the last building, descended down further to the ground - a wave of heat hitting Ashley's back as it did so. The cry of a desperate family followed after, as they watched what was once their store, become nothing more than a pile of ashes. He could feel the stares, boring down the back of his head, as they soon realized that they will no longer have a home in Compass... as now the city had fallen into the hands of Ashley's fit, rage and hurt.
Pressing his lips to the top of his mother's head, he closed his eyes as a shaky breath escaped his lips. Silence had enveloped them now, besides the soft purring of remaining flames lapping up whatever wood had not fully burned, and Ashley could feel the cool recollection of calmness settle over him as his heart began to beat steadily in his chest. What overcame him next, was the feeling of a soft hand grabbing his shoulder from behind. But, instead of looking to see who it was, Ashley continued to sit there... eyes closed. He didn't have to know who it was, simply because he knew who it was. It was his mother, and it was her spirit who was calming him in such dire hours. He recognized that touch, and the way it held him made him feel that it was alright... she was alright.
"Come home."
Opening his eyes again, he was no longer in Compass. No longer the smell of burning wood filled his senses. He couldn't hear the crackling behind him, nor the cries of people. He listened for a noise, any type of sound, and instead he got complete silence. The familiar hues of browns, blacks, and the burning sky no longer were in his peripheral vision - but instead everything was white. It was bright, causing Ashley to squint lightly as he looked around his surroundings. Nothing. There was nothing around him. Upon realizing all of this, he also noticed that there wasn't the heavy weight of his mother's body in his arms. Instantly, his heart began to pick pace, and he stood himself up to begin searching for her. The burning in his chest was gone, the weakness in his knees was replaced by the normal strength they normally held, and his shirt was no longer blotched with blood. He was wearing new clothes, a whole new outfit as a matter of fact, and it only made Ashley more overwhelmed. Is this what heaven is like?
Reaching down, he took the end of his black trench coat, feeling the firm leather-like texture of it. Taking his palm, he ran it across his chest and over the soft white shirt, that was tucked into black jeans. He wasn't wearing his old cowboy boots anymore, but a brand new pair, with silver spurs that jingled with each step he took. His hair was no longer matted, but neat and combed, slicked back into a ponytail. Taking the leather tie that held it together, he untied it and allowed his hair to cascade against his shoulders. Eyes looking up, around, and anywhere, he began to walk... not knowing where in the hell he was going.
"Ashley," a voice broke the silence, causing the young man to whip around, to see where the source came from. "Thought I'd never see you again."
Ashley's eyebrows furrowed, eyes scanning around, Ashley spoke out, a thick Southern accent coming out in an uneasy tone, “Who are you?” He started off, “And where are you?"
"Right behind you," the voice came as clear as day, whispering into Ashley's ear. Snapping back around, Ashley's fist nearly met the older man's face, but was deflected when he felt the iron grasp take a hold on his hand. Eyes wide, bewildered, Ashley's eyes gazed right into the same colored ones of this stranger, who only looked at Ashley with a subtle grimace. He appeared to be examining him, taking in every inch of the young man in front of him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a barreled chest, and gray hair covering his rugged features. His beard was full, nearly resembling the same color of his hair. It was carefully trimmed along his sharp jawline and cheekbones. He had dark eyebrows, perfectly arched up in surprise, as he hummed to himself. Taking his hands, he held them behind his back, as he began circling Ashley... who in return, glared at him from top to bottom.
"You look awfully a lot like your mother. But you sadly had inherited your father's eyes. Tragic. Your mother had far prettier eyes."
Ashley's heart dropped, and his face contorted into one of hurt. Who is this man? How does he know about his mother?
"Oh, pardon me. I had seemed to forgotten my manners. I'm Hades, King of the Underworld. You're in Mount Olympus, where other Gods like me reside."
"Wher-"
"Gods, you ask a lot of questions. Maybe once we get out of this void," the older gentleman, Hades as he prefers, hissed out. A look of disgruntled irritation was apparent, and he waved his hand above his head, motioning at the nothingness that surrounded them. "Then I can answer your questions. Right now, the others are waiting for us. Gods and Goddesses aren't keen on being patient for very long."
Hades turned on his heel, to leave, before Ashley reached and grabbed his wrist with his gloved hand. Jolting him back, Ashley scared demeanor broke out, as a mixture of emotions were obvious on his face and in his body language. He had just murdered an entire gang, nearly an entire town, and his mother had just died right in front of him. He thought he was in heaven, but instead, a mysterious man who claims to know who his mother is, is telling him that he isn't where he's supposed to be. Swallowing a lump, a mixture of words he wanted to spew out, Ashley shook his head and slowly let go of Hades's wrist.
"Who are you, really?"
Hades stood there, eyeing Ashley. For a split second, there was a look of understanding. His eyes softened, the hard exterior melting away for a brief moment, and the smirk he had diminished into one of gentleness. That was, until he realized what was happening, and he scoffed at himself.
“I’m your father, Ashley.”
[/div]
[div class=minibox]Ashley Santos
[/div]
[/div][div class=credits]credits @RI.a [/div]
[div class=background]
[div class=textbox] The sun was a burning aura of reds and oranges, cascading across the New Mexico horizon like an artist's canvas. The faint coo of a hawk could be heard in the distance, indicating that it was near time for it to progress into it's moment of hunting for the evening. The scent of chicken broth and beans filled the young man's nostrils as he stepped into an old home, it's atmosphere calming and peaceful. By the fire place, stood a woman, adorned in the finest of Mexican clothing, and her silky-black hair cascading across the middle of her back. When the sound of the door followed the young man with a soft click, she turned away from her cooking and gazed her doe-like eyes on her son. A smile was faint on her lips, drawing up her freckled cheeks as she realized who it was who stepped into her home.
"Buenas dias, hijo."
Her words were soft, melodic, and it brought a warm sensation to Ashley's chest, as he smiled back at the woman who gave him life. Walking over to her, arms open wide, his mother returned the offer and held her son close to her - as if her life depended on it. Arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her head held itself against his chest, her eyes closed as she breathed in deeply through her nostrils. Placing his lips at the top of her scalp, Ashley gave a low chuckle as relief washed itself and lifted the heaviness off his shoulders. He was home... he was home at last.
***
Instantly, Ashley's eyes shot open, a loud gasp escaping past his cracked lips. The burning sensation in his chest had returned, and the aroma of burning wood caused him to cough, blood spluttering out and sprinkling across his chin and all over the dirt underneath him. Bullet holes riddled the front of his torso, while a couple more managed to mark his back. Blood stained his white shirt, clinging on to his body. Searching for one more gasp of air, Ashley began to push himself off the ground, the muscles within his body tightening at the very movement he began to display. Groaning, Ashley's eyes closed tightly, trying to withstand the searing pain, but eventually he was able to stand on his wobbling legs.
Around him, buildings were in flames, the crackling of wood resembling near closely the sound of thunder, as they were all beginning to collapse from their weakened state. Those who had lingered to witness the fight, were nearly finishing their packing - the look of absolute fear in their eyes. They looked at him as the enemy at first, but after what had happened, they see him now as a monster. Nothing more. Dead bodies laid spewed all over Main Street. The remaining remnants of what was once The Devil's Sons was now gone... and it was all because of Ashley Elizar Santos - The Grim Reaper of New Mexico.
After a few seconds of adjusting his mind from the dream he had, to the reality he was standing in, Ashley's breathing grew ragged as his hazel eyes lowered themselves to the ground, and off to the left, before he felt his legs nearly give out from under him again. Laying in a heap, black hair blowing from the gust of desert wind, what was once his mother... before she was brutally murdered in front of him by one of the members. Blood splayed in a pool under her, a big gape open across her throat, and her eyes looking up lifelessly at the desert sky. Tears began to sting Ashley's eyes, his chest tightening, and his breathing heavy as he limped towards her. Upon reaching her body, he fell to his knees, before finishing out the gape between them, on all fours.
Soft sobs began to make their ways out of his mouth, his throat dry from the sand he had inhaled, and the lack of water he had obtained within the several hours prior to now. Everything around him was spinning, spiraling, as he picked his mother up and pulled her weakly on to his lap - before rocking back and forth and allowing the cries to bellow out like a lone wolf.
"Lo siento, madre."
As he continued to sway, the loud creaking roar of the last building, descended down further to the ground - a wave of heat hitting Ashley's back as it did so. The cry of a desperate family followed after, as they watched what was once their store, become nothing more than a pile of ashes. He could feel the stares, boring down the back of his head, as they soon realized that they will no longer have a home in Compass... as now the city had fallen into the hands of Ashley's fit, rage and hurt.
Pressing his lips to the top of his mother's head, he closed his eyes as a shaky breath escaped his lips. Silence had enveloped them now, besides the soft purring of remaining flames lapping up whatever wood had not fully burned, and Ashley could feel the cool recollection of calmness settle over him as his heart began to beat steadily in his chest. What overcame him next, was the feeling of a soft hand grabbing his shoulder from behind. But, instead of looking to see who it was, Ashley continued to sit there... eyes closed. He didn't have to know who it was, simply because he knew who it was. It was his mother, and it was her spirit who was calming him in such dire hours. He recognized that touch, and the way it held him made him feel that it was alright... she was alright.
"Come home."
Opening his eyes again, he was no longer in Compass. No longer the smell of burning wood filled his senses. He couldn't hear the crackling behind him, nor the cries of people. He listened for a noise, any type of sound, and instead he got complete silence. The familiar hues of browns, blacks, and the burning sky no longer were in his peripheral vision - but instead everything was white. It was bright, causing Ashley to squint lightly as he looked around his surroundings. Nothing. There was nothing around him. Upon realizing all of this, he also noticed that there wasn't the heavy weight of his mother's body in his arms. Instantly, his heart began to pick pace, and he stood himself up to begin searching for her. The burning in his chest was gone, the weakness in his knees was replaced by the normal strength they normally held, and his shirt was no longer blotched with blood. He was wearing new clothes, a whole new outfit as a matter of fact, and it only made Ashley more overwhelmed. Is this what heaven is like?
Reaching down, he took the end of his black trench coat, feeling the firm leather-like texture of it. Taking his palm, he ran it across his chest and over the soft white shirt, that was tucked into black jeans. He wasn't wearing his old cowboy boots anymore, but a brand new pair, with silver spurs that jingled with each step he took. His hair was no longer matted, but neat and combed, slicked back into a ponytail. Taking the leather tie that held it together, he untied it and allowed his hair to cascade against his shoulders. Eyes looking up, around, and anywhere, he began to walk... not knowing where in the hell he was going.
"Ashley," a voice broke the silence, causing the young man to whip around, to see where the source came from. "Thought I'd never see you again."
Ashley's eyebrows furrowed, eyes scanning around, Ashley spoke out, a thick Southern accent coming out in an uneasy tone, “Who are you?” He started off, “And where are you?"
"Right behind you," the voice came as clear as day, whispering into Ashley's ear. Snapping back around, Ashley's fist nearly met the older man's face, but was deflected when he felt the iron grasp take a hold on his hand. Eyes wide, bewildered, Ashley's eyes gazed right into the same colored ones of this stranger, who only looked at Ashley with a subtle grimace. He appeared to be examining him, taking in every inch of the young man in front of him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a barreled chest, and gray hair covering his rugged features. His beard was full, nearly resembling the same color of his hair. It was carefully trimmed along his sharp jawline and cheekbones. He had dark eyebrows, perfectly arched up in surprise, as he hummed to himself. Taking his hands, he held them behind his back, as he began circling Ashley... who in return, glared at him from top to bottom.
"You look awfully a lot like your mother. But you sadly had inherited your father's eyes. Tragic. Your mother had far prettier eyes."
Ashley's heart dropped, and his face contorted into one of hurt. Who is this man? How does he know about his mother?
"Oh, pardon me. I had seemed to forgotten my manners. I'm Hades, King of the Underworld. You're in Mount Olympus, where other Gods like me reside."
"Wher-"
"Gods, you ask a lot of questions. Maybe once we get out of this void," the older gentleman, Hades as he prefers, hissed out. A look of disgruntled irritation was apparent, and he waved his hand above his head, motioning at the nothingness that surrounded them. "Then I can answer your questions. Right now, the others are waiting for us. Gods and Goddesses aren't keen on being patient for very long."
Hades turned on his heel, to leave, before Ashley reached and grabbed his wrist with his gloved hand. Jolting him back, Ashley scared demeanor broke out, as a mixture of emotions were obvious on his face and in his body language. He had just murdered an entire gang, nearly an entire town, and his mother had just died right in front of him. He thought he was in heaven, but instead, a mysterious man who claims to know who his mother is, is telling him that he isn't where he's supposed to be. Swallowing a lump, a mixture of words he wanted to spew out, Ashley shook his head and slowly let go of Hades's wrist.
"Who are you, really?"
Hades stood there, eyeing Ashley. For a split second, there was a look of understanding. His eyes softened, the hard exterior melting away for a brief moment, and the smirk he had diminished into one of gentleness. That was, until he realized what was happening, and he scoffed at himself.
“I’m your father, Ashley.”
[/div]
[div class=minibox]Ashley Santos
[/div]
[/div][div class=credits]credits @RI.a [/div]
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