The Black Beast

Everything was rather quiet right now. It was ironically peaceful. Demons were around the three, grunting and growling, their claws scratching against the ground, their teeth clanking and gritting. Amon's eye twitched, as a gnawing sound persisted in his head, in a crunching noise similar to bones being brittled through dull yet sturdy teeth. One loud CRUNCH was enough to set him off, a wide smile suddenly forcing its way on his face, his back bending as he stared at the ground, his hands clenching into fists, a vein popping on his forehead from growing frustration.

He gagged and grunted, his arms extended to the sides, a loud noise of bones cracking in every limb movement, from his shoulders, to his elbows, to his fingers. The intense pain and the growing strain on his mind made his feet sink into the ground, cracking under the pressure. Something was indeed growing. Something was hitting. Amon's smile faded to a horrible, worried and twisted expression, because he knew what was happening. The voices got louder, returning, and a wave of black mass flooded his body.

A black mass with a strange aura forced it way through Amon's throat and out his mouth, oozing as a puddle on the ground. He fell on his knees, gasping for air, as the puddle stretched and grew, growing into a vaguely humane shape, like a body confined in a coffin. All signs of the puddle was absorbed into the now standing figure. Eyes openned all around it, black out-lined white pupils, with red sclera, frantically looking around, trying to get a grip on its location. Suddenly, eyes were fixated on three individuals; Amon, Erza and Gustav.

The eyes closed, vanishing into the body. A head formed, followed by nigh-flaming hair, extending down to the middle of the "back", yet it exerted no heat or glow, and had an unkempt and messy style. Two eyes openned, a face forming, a nose, and mouth, rows of sharp, pitch-black fangs, white lines forming like markings around the eyes, down through his mouth from both sides, extending back to his ears. His eyes were a red sclera, accompanied by a lighter shade of grey as the pupils. Two arms forced their way out of the body. Long, unnatural arms with clawed fingers, also long. No joints until a loud crack was heard, the arm creating an elbow, the fingers forming their knuckles and allowing them to bend. The body became more human, became more familiar.

A black creature, human in form, muscular in physique, but with unnatural features such as pitch black flesh, fangs and claws. A deep breath left its mouth, like a sigh of relief, and the first sound it made became clear. Growls followed, and this thing spoke its first word.

"Worthless.".

"A revolting, grotesque creature more likely." Gustav said, unfazed by the horrific sequence that just took place "Whatever you are, it makes no diff-..." Gustav's speech was cut short by black demon's well-placed fist to his head, opening its fist to get a solid grip on Gustav's skull, smashing him into the ground, the impact sending tremors that was felt by all the demons in the area. Gustav failed to resist against the superior strength of this particular demon, as its eyes wandered nonchalantly to the demons, Amon and Erza, breathing out once more, after holding its breathe until now, forgetting it's an essential part of having a physical body.

"Moloch..." Amon said, painfully clutching his head, feeling his skull thumping loudly, while his throat was coarse like sand paper. He slowly stood up, his body wobbling and lacking proper balance "Why...why are you...?".

"Amon!" A familiar voice echoed in his head, getting his attention. Gram's voice sounded exhausted, coarse, and aggravated all at once "Finally I've got a grip on you! Get away from Moloch!".

Lucadra appeared right infront of Amon, her expression being that of exhaustion with a sign of relief "Get out of here, before he notices you.".

"W-...What the...what the hell...?" Amon was caught off gaurd, incapable of processing all this information.

"Mongrel...!" Gustav was silenced by a black blade sprouting from the very palm of Moloch's, to the back of his hand, stabbing without issue through his skull and into the ground, getting him stuck and reducing the demon's mannerism to a vegetable with literal brain damage, upfront.

Moloch stood, the blade slipping clean from his hand as if it phased through air. Before he finished his first step, Zato lunged at him from the side, slashing his blade across the Black Beast's throat, causing a fountain of pitch-black blood to gush out. But, just as quick as the wound opened, it soon closed, recovering back to a hundred percent in seconds. Moloch's open hand firmly struck Zato in the head, causing the undead samurai demon to hit the ground with enough force to leave a dent in it.

Moloch kept walking without paying mind to Zato, stepping over him and towards Amon and Erza.

Erza quickly held her sword up, the lack of proper support quickly taking its toll on her again, a throbbing pain on her back returning in full force "I don't assume we can escape...?".

Amon snapped out of his trance, getting back to reality, clutching his head "Moloch...!" He directed his gaze to Erza, taking one step forward, before demons began drawing closer to them, with Gustav rising from the ground.

The Demon General tried to pull the black blade out of his skull, yet its blade was so sharp and well-refined that it sliced his fingers and entire hands, no matter how hard he tried. There was no hilt or grip, just a blade, so he had no way around it. "Monster...Demon!" Gustav angrily uttered, roaring as he directed his attack towards Moloch, commanding the demons to attack him.

Demons lunged forth, rushing at such a pace that a distance was being closed in seconds. Erza and Amon reacted appropriately, with shock and horror "Amon!" Erza shouted at him. He extended his arm towards her, as did she, while Moloch merely turned his head around, seeing the demons about to close in on th-...

And then, everything stopped. Breathing stopped, because everything was stuck in a world of no time, at which no movement or thought existed. Everything from the earth, stopping to turn around itself and around the sun, to the air that surrounded every inch of the surface, was still, and every creature, to even the flies that annoyingly flew about and buzzed to no end in your ear stopped in the timeless world. The latter were going to die at sunset anyhow.

But, why did Amon know that? He couldn't feel his body, he could not see, he could not hear. Nothing. And yet, he was "aware". What was happening? Everything was black. Void.

"Before there was the universe, there was darkness." And then, a voice, echoing like a thousand other voices throughout an infinite nothingness, yet enclosed in a concentrated space "Before there was darkness, there was time." Itself, it did not sound malicious. Relatively speaking, it was like every average joe, a deep guttural tone. But, it wasn't friendly or inviting either "And before there was time, before there was even nothing, "space", there was a brewing storm of infinite souls, screaming and wailing through every atom, shaking every molecule, bringing about the matter which formed what we call existence." Amon's eyes "opened", and before him stood Moloch, with his fingers around Amon's neck, quickly clutching into a solid grip, lifting him up.

The air brushed against him like water, yet was thick like piles of snow, not moving anywhere else until he directly interacted with it. In what seemed like no time at all, Amon found himself crashing into a building, hitting the wall, dust and debris breaking off the building, but halting and going nowhere else. Amon himself felt no pain, or that anything was physically interacting with him. Soon, he found himself at the ground, another pillar of debris and dust forming after him, before finding himself once more, standing before Erza, in the same position.

This wasn't stopped time. It was not the manipulation of time. Amon knew in his mind what is happening, somehow it felt like common knowledge to him. Time had not been stopped, it wasn't touched even.

"Time is no more." Moloch spoke, his voice unavoidable in this chronoless silence "By which I move, by which I breathe, and by which I feel, I am the only time which remains." Moloch stood before Gustav. Every movement he made was something unusual. At one moment, Amon could see Moloch's fingers bending and moving, in another, he saw the entire body in a different position, but he didn't notice a discrepancy in how it moved, because there was no time to percieve anymore. For how can you see the thing that moves with time, when you yourself possess no time?

A bloody mess remained of Gustav, the body torn to shreds. Guts, blood, limbs and his head remained static in mid-air. There was a single black blade placed intricately near vital organs of every demon, all 183 demons, even those that weren't in the line of sight, had a blade ready to stab and kill them, either by a lethal stab wound, or bleeding out.

"To deter he who moves through space, I must remove that which he cannot grasp." Moloch said, his fingers around Erza's chin, raising it up and directing her head to look at him, despite being unaware like the others.

Do not lay a hand on her.

Amon wanted to say that, he wanted to scream and destroy Moloch where he stood. But, nothing came out. Only rage and fear growing inside of his heart, overwhelming the feeling of hopelessness that was etching its way through as well.

"That is not enough." Moloch said, rubbing his chin, intently staring at Erza "I need more. For the sake of growth and progress, I need more to learn. Don't be mistaken, this is not a gesture of kindness." His claws dug their way through Amon's chest, stopping inches away from his heart "Everything. Everything from your friends to your enemies, from what you hate, to who you love, is here." One of his claws dug their way into Moloch's own head, giving a ghastly gesture to his words.

...-em, followed by a gushing fountain of demonic blood, spraying the streets, the buildings, and even taking out fires. Gustav himself became a pile of minced meat, torn, crushed and stabbed, leaving behind the great Demon General to die a pathetic death, as piles of demon corpses littered the streets. In a minimum of five seconds, all that was left were some demons writhing in pain, but slowly bleeding out and dying along with the others. Buildings, streets, everything became drenched in the blood of demons.

A rushing of pain forced Amon to crumple up into a writhing mess. Moloch was gone, but his effects were still here. The stench of fresh demon blood overwhelmed him and Erza, causing them to feel nauseaous, churning their stomach. "We must evacuate..." Zato said, placing his each arm individually on Amon and Erza "Whatever did this, it may still be out there.".

"I..." Without continuing, Amon teleported away Erza and Zato, taking them as close to Barka's clinic as possible. Amon felt a clump building up in his throat, before expelling it, puking on the ground, the excess stench of viscera and gore. The blood especially. He stood up, limping his way through the corpses of demons, the crunching bones, the squishy organs and slippery blood.

"You're afraid of him." Lucadra said, floating in the air, with her arms casually behind her head, as if resting on a bed of air "He managed to block us from communing with you, and now that he's active, and we know it, we're an even greater danger to everyone.".

"Ugh..." Amon clutched his chest, his fingers pulling so hard it began to tear the raincoat on him "Don't look up. Don't look up. Don't look up." Amon repeated, avoiding the Eye of Calypso, feeling its piercing glare from the skies. It was staring right at him, he knew it. He felt it on his back, as if the giant black cloud was only inches away from him. He sweat in fear, keeping on walking forward, and in his eyes Amon saw traces of Moloch still so vibrant and clear.

"I know you're afraid. I know you're scared of what will happen to everyone know, but don't...run away." Gram said to Amon "If you want...I can understand if you're going to stay far away from everyone, until you solve this problem.".

The blood dripped, down his arm, to the tips of his fingers and falling on the ground. Each tap rang loudly, because everything was quiet. The only sound louder than the consistent blood dripping like a loose faucet were his footsteps, and his thoughts. Growling demons seemed to be keeping an eye on him, though Amon couldn't really see where they were hiding, behind walls, inside buildings. He wouldn't know if it was above him, since that is where Calypso was.

He could feel its piercing glare focused on him. His back was almost on fire from the anxiety of whether or not he was overreacting, whether Calypso really was bothering to focus its gaze on him and him alone. Amon kept walking, sweating nervously as he placed his hands on the building walls, for support, continuing on, going through the streets.

Amon didn't even know where he was going. He just wanted to get away from everyone.

In his attempt to save them, or just help, to do "good", he made things worse. Even before, how can he go home when his touch poisons everyone? Bosco is no better or worse after he went there, right? The only things that changed were...

Songbird died, Hawk died, he doesn't even know what Black is trying to pull anymore, and Takeko is...

Actually, come to think of it, the only reason things went the way they did is because Amon came to Bosco and didn't leave when he had the chance. Because of some petty vengeance, he refused to leave, to listen to reason, because of her. Her.

Did he win? He saved Bosco, that should be considered victory, but again, that only happened because he stayed there. Why was he so essential for their plans? Why him? Of all the people in Bosco, bordering on ten millon, why was he the one who got dragged into it? Why is it always him? Always at the center of these shows where he's essentially the one who gets the brunt force of it all.

Before he could go deeper into his self-deprecating thoughts, he realized he was at an open field now. It looked like a deserted park, though the sandbox was still intact somehow, the swings were broken, and every wooden construct was burnt or washed off by...something black. Lucky for him, a seat was still intact. Wooden, old, with metallic supports to keep it afoot.

Amon sat down, resting. In a moment, he breathed out, letting out all his frustration and pent-up anxiety. His eyes were hollowed and void, with bags under his eyes, and obvious signs of stress. He rubbed his eyes, trying to refresh himself as best he could, distract his mind from the plaguing emotions overwhelming him.

And yet she came back, with a stronger presence than before. He could almost feel her touch as if it was real, causing his skin to crawl in repulsive disgust. Without noticing, his breathing went in a faster pace, heavier and almost panicky. He didn't move, staying put as the creaking wooden seat painfully screeching in his ears.

He stood up suddenly, the wooden structure breaking the moment he did.

By his side, sat the Black Beast Moloch, now sporting attire very much like Amon's typical get-up, yet all-black. Black jacket, black undershirt, and black pants. He just sat there on a slab of concrete that was originally some stone statue, one leg up, resting his arm on the knee. Amon quickly averted his gaze, sweating nervously, breathing deeply and exhaling. He calmed himself down, feeling Moloch's piercing gaze still at him.

The feeling persisted, and he kept trying to deny it. If he wasn't involved, Erza would still be some wild child at the woods, alone and growing more and more insane. But she wouldn't get hurt. No! That's the better outcome! Objectively, it's better than being alone! It was just one unfortunate event.

Exhausting. Thinking about it was exhausting. Deny it, it's not real. It's not your fault, he repeated in his mind, it's just coincidence.

It has nothing to do with his hair or eyes. It has nothing to do with some unprecedented, invisible and unearthly force that decides what happens, and just picked him to be the lightning rod to the world's misfortune. It is not fate. It is just coincidence.

But the reality of the situation was, he is oceans apart from his family, his own body is a hazardous, poisonous zone. He is a danger to people whether he likes it or not. He can't help it. Or could he? After all, it was his choice to consume all that poison into him, not taking a second to think about the consequences that would come from it.

It almost felt like the world was conspiring against him.

It felt like no matter how hard he tried, how much he wanted it to, how far he went to do something as simple as sit down with people he loves, avoid conflict, and be happy, everything else had other plans.

Amon knew the answer why, he didn't want to admit it, because it would be essentially saying he lost, it would be accepting defeat, to say those words.

Such is th-...

"No.".

...-e life of a Wh-...

"No!".

...-ite Rose...

"Stop it!".

Because...

"Enough! Enough! Enough!".

Fate di-...

"Don't say it!".

...-ctates so.

"...".

His eyes seemed to lose all color, all emotion, becoming dull and lifeless. It's as if all will to live, or just move, vanished in an instant. Amon's eyes met with Calypso's eyes, submitting to its ungodly glare. Every muscle in his body went limp, but he remained standing straight, stiff like a statue.

"What do you feel?" Moloch asked Amon, a tone so casual they would be mistaken for friends, if not brothers "From an outsider's perspective, you would seem like a standing corpse, waiting for God's embrace to take you away. Swiftly, gently and kindly into the Heavens." He coyly said.

Amon's eyes glanced to the side, meeting with Moloch's deep crimson sclera, contrasting with his silver pupils. His eyes met with Calypso again, raising his arm up, as if trying to grab the black cloud. Black markings made their way on his flesh, to the tips of his fingers.

"Your need to protect is your greatest weakness. It is what makes you weaker than your foe everytime." Moloch continued "Subsequently, it is your reason for getting stronger. But what benefit is that, when you hold back everytime? You fear your own power, yet you feel a need to become more powerful, to protect them. That is quite a conundrum.".

"Yes. It is." Amon replied, his tone fitting his mood. Neutral, with no real depth or much sound to it. Just average and unfeeling. "I'm a fool who keeps fighting for a life I can't have. Even in my dreams, I'm denied of it. I keep going regardless, clinging onto hope...".

"Hope...is a funny thing." Moloch said in response.

"..." Amon smiled lightly "Ah, I'm rambling. I have some...I have unfinished buisness still, so, before this body of mine breaks down for good, I think I'll do...one good deed at least." Amon clamped his hand into a fist, building up a black aura around it "I made my decision." Opening his hand, the black aura vanished, a ring of air blasting in a shockwave, the black markings vanished, going back to normal. Amon turned, facing Moloch, a smile still on his face "I'm going to take everyone home, and see everyone one more time.".

"Is that a satisfying conclusion to you? A life well-lived?".

The black cloud that covered the sky, the eye that always stared down upon this kingdom, that never allowed the sun to shine, began to scream. A deafening yell, a dying whimper, as it began to tear apart, the "eyeball" opening up from the center, as a piercing light broke through, the first ounce of light this kingdom has seen in over a decade. The hole kept spreading, the more it extended, the more light came in. And soon, the blue sky, the sun, they were visible once more for the demons, the survivors, those who still hide in the darkness in fear, or safety.

"Yeah..." Amon said, looking up to see the sun's light and the sky "For all it's faults, I have good memories that outweigh the bad ones. The thing I'll miss the most is them, and my biggest regret, will be my improper goodbye.".

He breathed out.

"I don't think I should hold back anymore. I can't waste any time.".

He grabbed his shoulder, rubbing it in mild frustration.

"I need to get back Cobra and Angel and Racer, and whoever else was taken by that Skinless guy...".

He stopped.

"...How do I know that?".

"Hey." Ghost called out to Amon, appearing behind him, holding her sniper rifle in her arms, her hood and mask on "I'm sorry I couldn't approach you sooner." She said "I figured you needed some time alone, so I watched your back from the demons.".

"..." Amon turned to face Ghost, meeting her with a smile "Thank you.".

"Are you tired? We can head back to my place for you to rest.".

"Ah. No." Amon replied "I'm going to get back the guys who got kidnapped. You wanna come?".

Ghost sighed, taking off her hood "Have you went on a little spirit quest while I was atop a building? What's with your attitude?".

"...Oh, do I come off differently?" Amon asked.

"You do. It's weird." Ghost said, the growling sound of Amon's stomach ringing louder than the demons "...We need to feed you before you do anything stupid." Ghost said "Follow me." She instructed Amon, beginning to walk away "Whether you want to or not, you're in no condition to get into a fight. I'll give you a bed, some food and some new clothes.".

"...".

"I know you can't, or rather, don't want to face Erza and the others right now, so I'll respect your wishes." Ghost said to Amon "But, just don't be reckless and get yourself killed.".

"Ah." Amon said "N-...No, thanks. I appreciate it...".

"Ah, you're just like...Hm...it almost pisses me off, how much you remind me of myself." She thought to herself.

"Ah, the sun came back." Skinless said, standing atop a building, in a city district that looked like a black ocean. The sun's rays met the dark waters, but there was no reflection, not of light or the sky. Just pure void. He has been spending a good while relaxing, waiting patiently "I forgot...how the sun looked. I forgot what light looks like. I forgot the colors of the day, of the sky. Heh." Skinless scoffed, turning to see the frozen icicles of his hostages, Cobra and Angel and Racer.

"Your friends will come." Skinless placed his hands on the black, see-through ice "It's best they don't. I hate using hostages as leverage. I hate using dirty tricks but..." He scratched his chin, glancing to the side "Hm. Drowned wants vengeance for his brother. Calypso was nice, but...Hm. I'm distracting myself. The point I'm making is, you should just sleep. Sooner or later, you'll wake up in a new body, in a new world, where nothing hurts you anymore, because nothing can hurt you.".