Sparda: End Of Days

The last story of Sparda. Once it's all finished and down here, I'll put it in my profile. Bear with me....I'm not the best writer. Here goes nothing:

Part One

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*The sun was shining. A lone boy walked up a street, a sloping hill. His feet thumped on the pavewalk. He suddenly turned, and walked up the stone walkway to a house. Simply turning the knob, he walked through the doorway. Inside, he stepped into a narrow hallway, and turned through a arch in the wall. Walking straight through the kitchen, he entered the living room. His father was there, sitting at a table, working on something. Seeing the boy there, he turned out of the chair and stood.

"Hey there! How was your day?", he asked with a smile. He walked up to the boy, and held his hand down. With more enthusiam than the boy had ever shown, he did a high-five to his father. It was something they had, every day he came home from school. Suddenly, the room shaked. Overhead lights sparked, and plunged the room into darkness. The boy couldn't see anything. Then, a light flared up from where his father had been standing. A skull, covered in flame, turned towards the boy.

"I see you....."*

Sparda woke from his dream with a start. Regaining his breath, he wiped his brow and looked at the digital clock beside his bed. It read 7:26 AM. He slipped out of bed, and walked to his closet. Opening the creaking sliding door, he reached inside and retrieved his trenchcoat. He changed into his usual wear, gray jeans and the coat. Sparda walked out of his bedroom, and entered the main chamber of his house. A front desk was in directly ahead of the doorway, and across the room directly ahead of that was the main entrance. To the right of the door stood a jukebox against the wall, and to the left a gym area was set up, complete with punching bags and a treadmill. Against the wall was a drum set, and across the room from that was a pool table. Sparda's shop, in the whole. He turned to his right, and retrieved Force-Edge from it's shrine. It was in it's normal, passive form. He sheathed it on his back, and then reached into a drawer and retrieved his pistols, Thorn and Misery. He sat in the chair with a thud. And waited for customers.

About 3 hours later, the phone rang. Sparda reached onto his desk, and put the receiver by his ear.

"Yeah?", he said into the phone.

"Hey, Spard, it's me, Bill", the familiar voice said on the other side of the line. Sparda rolled his eyes. Nigh ever day he got a call from the man.

"Ok....what is it?", he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"Come over to my place man. I got somethin' real nice for you", Bill said. Sparda was sure he was grinning.

"Yeah....be right there", Sparda replied, and hung up. He reached onto the desk, and grabbed the locket he carried. He flipped it open. Alexandra, it read, engraved, and beneath that was a picture of his wife. He snapped it closed. He stood out of his chair, and slowly walked to the front entrance and out of it. Walking down the steps, he stepped to the curb in front of his shop, and found his motorcycle parked where he left it. He boarded it, revved the engine, and drove off into the enpty street. His bike was mostly black, with a lining of red. A old Harley. He picked up a bit of speed. He was about 50 feet from his shop, when it exploded.

KABOOM!!!

The size of the explosion knocked Sparda off his bike, it skidding and him rolling. Quickly rolling to his feet, he looked back to his shop. It was engulfed in flames, and little pieces of shingles and wood were still falling to the ground. He clenched his teeth. Slowly his hands formed fists. Then, there was a great rumbling sound within the Earth. Sparda knew it could be only one person behind this. He turned around.

And suddenly, a massive tower broke free from the ground. Bursting through buildings and skyscrapers, sending them collapsing or shattering to the ground, it ascending quickly. Eventually, it stopped, and when it did, it could be no less that 2000 Feet tall. Sparda's eyes picked up some movement. Standing atop the massive, twisted tower of stone, stood the Demon Lord Maxim. He was laughing.

Sparda walked to his downed bike, and stood it up. Despite a small amount of scrapes, it was fine. He climbed atop it again. He needed to get to Bill's place, make sure the old man was safe. Before gunning it, Sparda reached into his pocket. He pulled out one bullet. Engraved on the silver piece of ammunition was a cross at it's tip. It had every enchantment known to man on it. Also engraved in it was one lone word. Maxim. He put it into one of his pistols, slid the chamber back with a chack, and loaded it. Then he holstered the weapon, and sped off towards Bill's house.

cough

Bump....

Dude i like this man im trying to figure out my next post in Through the Scope

noone read my fanfic sob

it died after chapter 11...

hides in corner and cries

M

Darkchild says:

"Dude i like this man im trying to figure out my next post in Through the Scope"

Sweet! It's kinda hard to figure out the middle, ain't it? I can always think of the beginning, and the end, but the middle is pretty hard, lol. I like your story, it's good stuff.

Sparda says:

"Darkchild says:

"Dude i like this man im trying to figure out my next post in Through the Scope"

Sweet! It's kinda hard to figure out the middle, ain't it? I can always think of the beginning, and the end, but the middle is pretty hard, lol. I like your story, it's good stuff."

thank u and i know the middle is a pain even when its a miniseries

Methos says:

"noone read my fanfic ***sob*** it died after chapter 11... *hides in corner and cries* M"

Chapter ELEVEN!!??

Dies

i had a lot more to post as well...

i'm at chapter 314 on my main fanfic site lol

M

DAMN

hey can i check out that site

sure... most of my stuff is posted at http://www.tthfanfic.com i also post over at http://www.fanfiction.net

M
Post Edited:2007-09-25 21:16:00

What was it called again

Darkchild says:

"What was it called again"

i'll start reposting it again...

my main one is "The Power of Xion"... thats growing massivly...

then there's "Tales from the Barman", "Looking for Acceptance" and a few others

all over on TTH

M

Methos says:

"Darkchild says:

"What was it called again"

i'll start reposting it again...

my main one is "The Power of Xion"... thats growing massivly...

then there's "Tales from the Barman", "Looking for Acceptance" and a few others

all over on TTH

M"

cool

Methos says:

"Darkchild says:

"What was it called again"

i'll start reposting it again... my main one is "The Power of Xion"... thats growing massivly... then there's "Tales from the Barman", "Looking for Acceptance" and a few others all over on TTH M"

Dang dude, how do you find the time to do all this?

he has all the time in the world...hes Methos get over it

and hes been around for hundreds of years

Darkchild says:

"he has all the time in the world...hes Methos get over it and hes been around for hundreds of years"

Lol, this is true....

Part Two

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The city of New York was in chaos. Since the tower burst forth from the ground, police crews had been scrambling to get together. A perpetual whee-o went into the early morning sky. Sparda zoomed past a crashed family car, going 120 Miles per hour. He had to make sure Bill was safe before he acted out his plan. Well, not really a plan. He never had a plan, he just winged it. Turning sharply onto the street where Bill lived, a suburbial area in the city, Sparda slowed the bike, and eventually parked. He looked at Bill's house. It was a simple 2 story house, blue walls on the outside-Sparda couldn't believe that a man who killed things for a living would actually paint his house blue-with red shutters over the windows. It looked like one of those kind of house's where it would be perfect to raise a family. The purpose went both ways, because no one suspected that the old man living in the house had dozens of weapons in his basement. But the one thing that struck Sparda, almost like a punch to the gut, was that the door had been ripped off it's hinges. A bizarre mixture of anxiety and rage coursed through him. He threw out the usual cautiousness that he had. He drew Force-Edge, and ran up the stone steps into the house.

"Bill!", he yelled into the seemingly vacant building. Entering, he immediately noticed the smell of Sulpher.

Demons.

He ran into a side room, just checking into it. A table/desk was tipped upside down, in two pieces. The TV and the stand it used to be on was shattered, the TV smoking. Cracks were in the walls. But none of that really affected Sparda. What he really did notice, however, was the bodies of three demons scattered. Their black cloaks were drenched in dark, crimson blood, and their statue like skin were punctured by many holes. One was laying on it's back, gouches sinking into it's chest. Another was slumped agaisnt the wall, head blown apart, blood splattered against the white wall like some twisted sunrise. The final one was laying face down, it's mangled body in the remains of a wooden chair. The next thing that Sparda noticed was that a deep red bloodstain lead out of the room, and down the hallway he was standing in. Sparda followed it, half wanting not to, because he knew what he would find. He stepped forward. The stain lead into Bill's living room. And to Bill.

He was laying facedown, trying to crawl to something.

"BILL!", Sparda yelled in disbelief. The borken man stopped. His injuries were obvious. Deep claw marks lead into his back and neck. Blood poured out of them. His left knee was practically destroyed, the bone was showing from how damaged it was. Sparda was silent as he ran towards the man. Bill managed to roll himself over, and he looked at Sparda. Half a smile was on his face, which only looked more demented due to the fact that many of his teeth were broken and his gums were bloodied. Sparda knelt beside him. "You'll be ok, I'm gonna get you some help-", but he was cut off by the broken man grabbing his collar. He whispered something. Sparda lowered his ear to him.

"Take....this....", he rasped out. He handed to Sparda a key. He whispered more. "Downstairs....use it downstairs. You'll find it."

"You're gonna be fine, just wait, I'll get someone-", Sparda started, but Bill cut him off again. He spoke, this time his voice louder. Small amounts of blood came from his mouth, a bubble followed. "G-give.....give em hell", he said.

Then he slumped down. His head lolled to the side. His arm holding Sparda's coller went limp. And his eyes, the intelligence and humour and cunning behind them, died out.

Sparda stood. He didn't feel anything. He walked out of the living room, it's carpet no longer the auburn colour it used to be, instead now a dark red, pooling out of the man on the floor. He stepped into the hallway, and to his right lay to stairs to the basement. He walked down them, into a basement with stone floors, and simple wood walls. He stepped further into that, and found himself facing a large steel door. He lifted the key. Engraved on it read Armory. Sparda put the key into the slot worked into the stone wall, and twisted. With a grinding of gears, the door slid open backwards. Sparda pocketed the key, and walked into the Armory. Instantly, the lights switched on. The room itself wasn't terribly large, no more than 12 feet wide and 15 feet long, but it made up for it. Covering every single possible space laid some sort of weapon. Rifles, pistols, grenades, knives, ornate swords, even a few chakra. And Sparda was sure that ever single weapon was engineered somehow to kill the Supernatural. He shouldered a machine gun, and pocketed two throwing sickles. Then he holstered a Magnum to his shoulder. He looked at the space, and chose out a few more weapons, and took some additional ammunition. Then he saw a lone crate. On it's simple wooden surface were the words painted fragile. Sparda hefted the bolted on lid off. Inside were two racks, stacked on top of eachother, of vials full of what looked like water. Sparda took one out slowly. On it was a tag, and printed onto that was two words.

Holy Incidinary

Sparda was slightly confused about it. He took the vial he was holding, and pocketed it. He then took what looked like a belt holder for the vials out of the crate and put it on. He put several more vials in the holder. He stood, and realized that he hadn't looked at one area of the Armory yet. He turned and looked at a simple vault. It wasn't large. He put one hand on it, and ripped the opening off it's hinges. It was only as big as one of the storage containers at a bank. Sparda looked inside. And his eyes widened slightly. Inside the small vault, was a rifle of sorts. It was only half the length of a shotgun, but was quite wide. It's chamber was large, and Sparda was sure that it didn't fit just bullets. He took the weapon out and examined it. He realized that it was meant to hold the Vials. He slipped on it the chamber and loaded it. Then he noticed the engraving on it. It read

Xargus.

Sparda thought a thought of thanks to Bill. Then he slipped the weapon onto a holster on his back, and exited the Armory.