The Rundown(Prequel?)

  Spluttering and choking against the sea brine, all that could see was what he guessed were the stars of oxygen loss, only managing a shuddering breath or two as his fingertips grazed upwards and out of the water. He kicked desperately against the stormy waters, hoping and praying for success in his escape. He failed. One last cry left his lips before the Kraken's tentacles shot up from the black abyss of the ocean and drug him downwards.

Muffled cracks of thunder sounded from above, only accentuating the sinister ambiance. He gave one last desperate kick, temporarily pushing back upwards in the water. Fingertips grazed the surface for a few seconds before tendrils shot up from the inky depths, wrapped around his torso, and pulled him down into the unforgiving darkness of the sea.

His last moments were spent in the deathly quiet of the ocean, thrashing relentlessly against his unfortunate fate. Everything went black as he breathed in a lung full of water, losing consciousness only after every atom of his being was set ablaze by oxygen deprivation.

Axel suddenly awoke to the sound of his high-pitched alarm clock, his body trembling. He hated that nightmare; it always felt so real. So tragic. He shook his head to shake off the feeling of mortal peril itself. He groaned heavily and pushed himself off his bed, shuffling towards the pile of clean clothes in his laundry basket to get dressed for school.

After picking out his clothes for the day, he approached his dresser, grabbing a cigarette. Using his lucky black lighter, he lit it up with a heavy sigh of relief. Taking a very long drag, he sat down at his desk and looked at his reflection in the mirror that hung in front of it.

Seeing shadowy bags underneath his unusually fluorescent green eyes(dotted with brown at the bottom, pupils surrounded by a golden ring), he shook his ashy-gray hair back in annoyance at how apparent the lack of sleep was on his face. Running his tongue along his extraordinarily sharp teeth, he thought of the excuses he'd make for skipping class again. What mattered to him was turning in his work and getting good grades(which he did).

After taking the last drag of his cigarette, he began pulling on his clothes. In response to the migraine he always woke up with, he shut his eyes tight and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, breathing in deeply. The main instigator of the migraine was his upcoming birthday. Any average teenager would be excited, but not Axel. Weird things seemed to happen on every third birthday, scientifically and logically inexplicable.

The very first memory of his was by far the most violent.

'It's funny(not really) how extraordinary people seem to start with such a rough send-off,'...He'd think to himself, with a sorrowful frown on his lips.

The flashback began, per usual, in total darkness, screaming with silence. A pale porcelain doll would walk up to him, her glass skin so pale that it was almost like the moonlight. Her heart-shaped face was framed with big blonde curls and blue eyes, almost peering into his fresh soul. Being only three years old, the little toddler was horrified. He squeezed his tiny eyes shut, and as if it were a punishment for doing so, he heard a thunderous boom and a dropping sound. At this point, poor little Axel would start to wail in despair, confused. Everything faded out and immediately transitioned into a scenario three years later.

The second he could remember was when he was only six. At the time, he loved fire. He had just discovered it and was burning things in used-up candle holders. One day, he took a lighter to a tissue, not realizing how flammable they were. Frightened at its sudden spread of flames, he dropped it. Once the flames met the carpet, they made a watermelon-sized fire ring in the rug. His eyes grew thrice the original size, and his heart dropped below his naval. As he stared down at the fire, a cold sensation grew in his fingertips, compelling him to wave them over the fire. Raising his hands to the fire, he squeezed his eyes shut at the expectation of flames licking his skin. After taking a few trembling breaths, he'd open his eyes slowly in confusion. They were gone.

His third abnormality was slightly more devastating than the first. He constantly got bullied so badly at school. Naturally, this made his emotions a kaleidoscope of sadness, anger, and hate, and it was so overwhelmingly much for a nine-year-old to process.

While jumping down off the final step of the bus, his eyes held a dark flame in both pupils. He flung his backpack down in a hurry, plopping down onto the swing he had as a child, and began spinning to and fro furiously, closing his eyes. He imagined the overwhelming emotion of a black, icy-hot energy eating its way through his chakras.

He sent this energy down into all while spinning as fast as possible, uttering untranslatable nonsense. Immediately, the young boy shot straight up and ran inside. The door practically pushed him inside, ushered inside by the wind herself. A deadly storm started.

Before the rest of the scene could play out, he was shaken out of his trance, waking up underneath his covers. He wakes to his mother's angry face, shouting at him to get up; he's late.

Sighing deeply, Axel tried to drown out his mother's lecture about oversleeping. To do so, he began thinking about the two flashbacks his mom thankfully interrupted him from seeing. 'Twelve and fifteen...' He thought to himself, fighting back the memories of them. They were banging to get out. As usual, he gave in and sank into his flashbacks' blackness.

He was twelve and all alone. He had been left to his own devices most of the time, responsible for his entertainment. Due to boredom and loneliness, the internet became his friend.

Axel was always intrigued by strange things, heavily drawn to the dark and mysterious. Having discovered what magic was and always having been drawn towards the darker side of things, he looked for a way to numb his pain. His flashback shook him from his narrative line of thought, watching himself bending over a candle, a razor in his hand. Within seconds, he was sucked into the recollection immediately, as if he were living it all over again.

Feeling the blade slide across his fingertip, he jumped, watching with wide eyes as his blood dripped into the flame of the black candle with a sinister sizzle.

In a rough, husky-toned voice, he heard his voice uttering wishes of power in hopes of numbing all the pain, wishing for the ability to escape it all and never look back. Inside his conscious mind, Axel wept, for he knew this part so well. You'd think the feeling of ecstasy that came right after would be a good thing, but it was ultimately a trick.

The Divine answered his request for abilities with a much-strengthened sense of empathy alongside the curse of energetic vampirism. With magic, you have to give a little to get a little. There will always be a downside; his downside was the need to feed on people's energy constantly, and he will likely need to do so indefinitely. In a way, this instance transitioned him into the final scene of his heavy trauma recount.

He was fifteen, inside a hotel elevator, when he ripped off his silver necklaces in disgust at the sudden stench. He grew angry with those he loved for no reason and began to find their hurt and anger delicious to feed on. With that upside in mind, he, unfortunately, found that periods had gone missing from his mind.

Ironically enough, Axel stayed at his hotel with his family due to a severe storm knocking out their area's power. That storm had him feeling a bit out of sorts, and he had a nasty attitude with his family, finding himself utterly consumed. Refusing to hug any of his Christian family members or meet their eyes, they naturally grew suspicious of his mental status.

He fought against this unknown entity with most of his strength and found his way to a rescue. While he was downstairs, a friendly(and drunk) woman came down and began to smoke a cigarette while they conversed. They discussed their viewpoints on many different topics, magic being one. Ironically, they talked about demons, and she offered him a book on demonology. After thanking her profusely, he dove into it and began to put two and two together.

"Satan acts through the vessel without its knowledge nor consent. Thus, the vessel is morally blameless. Satan does not act alone when he possesses an individual. He works side-by-side with many evil spirits, such as spirits of lust, hate, destruction, suicide, revenge, anger, anxiety, desperation, death, torment, and all other emotions which weaken the vessel. He is relentless and unforgiving." - Unknown Source.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes raking up and down the page. His eyes seemed to latch onto first. This particular bit of text caused his blood to run instantly cold, and almost even faster than it hit him, the icy blow was interrupted by a merciless fire in the center of his forehead.

Unbeknownst to him, Axel's captors were deeply unhappy about his nosing around into the light of a unique enlightenment. Eyes closed, he would take short breaths to battle the sudden migraine(if that's what you could call it). He shut his eyes tightly and began to see a radiantly glowing red light before everything gradually grew black.

"...sir." A man would look into the eyes of Axel's body, fear written on every detail his body could portray to show himself as such. He heard himself smirk and watched as whoever was inside his head looked down at a knife.

The knife was clutched tightly in Axel's hand, which was bruised and busted at the knuckles. Due to his level of panic, he felt blackness draw close again. Rather than fading back away peacefully, he had to hear his own distorted and deepened voice speak, "Today is not your day, mortal."

Blackness.

He wakes up strapped into a jet-black room that seems to glow behind its intricately shaped tiles. The walls were curved and made of sleek material that reflected the room lightly. It reeked of recording technology, and Axel didn't like it.

Amid his mental calculations and complaints, a man with a clipped expression and crisp suit walked in. The man had an overly polite yet blank facial expression, lips pressing against the other in silly attempts at a small smile.

Dr.Weirdo picked up a pharmacist's coat off the rack to the right of a built-in office carved into the black glass. He took a few more steps, hands meeting in the middle of his upper stomach in a stand-offish gesture. Axel immediately began examining his surroundings, taking note of the overly sterilized scent in the air and that it was cold, like an operating room.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion once he came to functional consciousness. He couldn't remember his name or how he wound up strapped to the chair he was in. He felt weird all over, and his skin almost felt like it was vibrating with the essence of deep space. Ancient. Cold. What was going on? He shook his head as if to clear it, taking a deep breath before lifting his gaze. The walls were black, which he felt looked wrong somehow. Devoid of all natural light.

He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but it was almost as if the walls were a color that was darker than black. Despite the fluorescent lights above his head, the room was dark. It was as if the walls sucked up all light and forbade it from being anything other than dim and dull.

There was a door and a clock above it that lacked standard numbers and instead had alchemical symbols where the numbers would be. Clockwork gears whirred quietly inside it, three delicate golden arrows pinning lazily around, with no apparent rhyme or reason for their movements. There seemed to be a one-way mirror to the right of him, one that, on his side, looked like nothing but blacked-out glass. He was the test subject.

Many emotions fought for dominance in his mind. He was scared. He wanted to know what was going on. He was angry he was being held captive against his will, seemingly being observed by who knows who. Or what. He hated feeling bored, and he hated being confused even more.

His anger flared above the rest of the emotions, and a growl sounded from him, growing louder into a scream of anguish. His eyes rolled to the ceiling, noticing the sleek metal tiles with strange symbols. Weird circles with lines through them, some with horns, and some weren't circles at all. As he screamed, they glowed an otherworldly bright blue.

Suddenly, he felt himself being plunged mercilessly into icy cold water and his body sinking. 

Fast.