"Damn it!" exclaimed a young man. "This was NOT how it was supposed to go. I was promised a life on easy mode! Women! Cash! Power! All for the low price of being reincarnated as a devil!" The young man was the picture perfect representation of deathly glares all wrapped up in a Japanese high school uniform. He pointed into the woods before him, hand covered in blood and shouted with extreme vitriol. "But you! You just couldn't be a good little mutt and accept death with dignity. You could have died in unknowing peace but nooo, you had to find over and over again. Why can't you just DIE!!"
A long sigh echoed into the night filled with pure exasperation and not a small amount of hate a just a bit of self satisfaction.
"A lot of things have tried but were found wanting. You, a now stray devil with delusions of grandeur, and only enough demonic power to frighten low class devils, uneducated wizard children and no-majs really think you can kill me or afford someone who could? Maybe 25 years ago when I was still a child, and you were still under her protection. How easy you though it must have been to kill a squib and no- maj couple with a newborn. Drunk on your own power sneaking amongst the Death eaters and their ilk feeding your depravity and bloodlust. Unfortunately for you, you do shit work. Say hi to the old Lucifer for me."
Within the depths of the wood a bright light pierced the night as power surged and pulsated. With each pulse power skyrocketed. Low class, mid class, high class. The stray devil felt fear overcome his rage and sought escape. He hoped someone, anyone would feel the power surge that was climbing toward his death. The previous attack had shattered his core and with it any chance of using his little remaining demonic power. The inevitability of death sent chills down his spine and he realized that the only card left to play was to bluff and stall.
However, before he could open his mouth a flash of light, pain and the feeling of burning alive crashed against his body. The only word he heard before ceasing to exist was from the wood.
"HADOKEN!"
As ashes dissipated into the night air, a small chuckle left the woods filled with a heaviness and finality. From the darkness a figure covered in silver fur with light blue highlights stepped out into the moonlight. Tears falling down from deep dark ocean blue eyes.
"Always wanted to say that," he said half to himself and half to the sky above him. "It always your favorite move, right Dad? You always used to be dick when we played then called it a 'man's romance' when I complained or character building in dealing with defeat when I complained to Mom. But I finally got him. Shame I couldn't pull it off when I was at Hogwarts." The young werewolf stretched his large frame before letting out a long mournful howl that would have drawn out the most painful of memories from any that heard it. Soon as if to echo and share the pain grief and release, more howls joined in like a choir of banshees on the North wind. Letting the howl fade he looked to the moon and with a much lighter burden stepped back into the woods, "welp, back home I guess," leaving only those words behind.
30 years ago - Kent, Connecticut USA-
"He's definitely your child. No way he takes after me. I'm way to smart,handsome, kind, dashing, handsome, caring and handsome to raise this abomination," a rough male voice echoed through a multi story Victorian home.
"You said handsome three times Hank," came replied soft and amused voice from the kitchen.
"That's just how handsome I am! Admit it Julie! You'd never have married me if I was only a two tier handsome guy. Sleep with maybe but I'd never get a call back."
"Hank! First your wrong. I'd definitely still marry you. But I'd make you sign that pre-nup first. Second stop complaining and just change Jon's diaper before he gets a rash!" Julie's voiced echoed with amusement and a bit of finality.
"I'm just saying that if we have kids of our own mine will definitely not, Oh sweet unholy!! My nose can taste it! I'm gonna hurl! How can such a small thing produce this much from MILK! It's like guacamole gone so very wrong!"
Laughter echoed from the kitchen and filled the home, "I love you Hank Sterling but you will suffer and change your nephew's diaper if you don't want to sleep on the couch for a month and cook your own dinner!"
Already finished with cleaning up what could only be described as Chernobyl in a diaper and disposing of the evidence, Hank picked up his now clean and giggling nephew and walked into the kitchen with a lost puppy look and crocodile tears,"But luv, I can't survive with food made without your love! It's unconstitutional!" He cried sitting young Jon in a high chair as he seated himself at the table eager for whatever his wife had prepared. Julie sighed and shook her head at her overdramatic husband.
"Don't give me that. Besides don't think I don't know you run all over town showing off pictures of Jon claiming him as your own from one of your so called youthful adventures."
Hank shivered with the sense all husbands develop after marriage. A survival instinct honed through thousands of years and shared fables and beer in the evenings with those of similar situations. At this point Hank knew he had only one right response.
" sigh . . . I can't help it honey. Until we have a child that will be far more cute and beautiful as you I can only do this vicariously through Jon. Your sister left behind the closest benchmark I have to what our kids would look like! And your zip codes prettier than she was!"
"Fine sweet talker. Even if I know if all bull. We were twins. Now hush and eat your supper," Sighed Julie with a small but noticeable pep in her step as she walked away after setting down a platter. Hank let out the breath he was holding in relief. Crisis averted men!
"So what's for dinner tonight honey?" asked Hank as he started lifting lids of the set platters. His eyes fixed on his wife's figure now seemingly dancing in the kitchen bringing the rest of the food over.
"I thought we might try something different tonight. A bit international," she smiled, her eyes shining with a bit of mischief as she placed the last bowl in front of Hank. Hank's smile of relief became horror as looked at the bowl.
"Burritos with extra guacamole."
Hank's eye twitched. How to avoid eating your recently praised wife's cooking? Asking for a friend.