Chaos

         Davis walked into the bar and took a quick look around; it didn’t look like anybody here would start something for no reason. Good, the last thing he needed now was fight. He walked up to the counter and the bartender spoke to him.
“What’ll it be pal?”
“Nothing special, just a beer,” he responded.
“Which brand?” he asked.
“Any will do.”
The man nodded and grabbed a glass from beneath the counter, and then proceeded to use the dispenser behind him.
“Will that be all?” he asked.
“Yeah,” he responded just before taking a big swing of the mug.
         Just then the entrance door swung open and a heavy set guy with dark hair and a mustache came in. He swayed a little from side to side, clearly this wasn’t his first bar tonight. He walked to the counter and spoke to the bartender.
“Give me whatever you have that has the most alcohol.” He barely managed to say.
“It looks like you’ve had enough, Travis.”
“Oh yeah?” he reached across the counter and grabbed the man by his collar, “I say I haven’t had drink to enough.”
“Hey, easy there big guy. Let’s not start fighting with the bartender,” said Davis, “have you considered maybe you have had a little too much?”
“You wanna go pal?” Travis threatened.
“No! I’m just suggesting that you may have had too much to drink tonight,” Davis said, waving his hands in front of him trying to avoid a fight.
“Alright, that’s it!” Travis yelled, as he let go of the bartender and grabbed Davis by the neck, lifted him up, and threw him against the wall.
“Please… cough ….. I don’t want to fight,” Davis pleaded as he was choking.
“Yeah? Well too bad, you asked for this!” he yelled.
         Davis could feel it rising inside of him, ready to be released, whether he wanted it to be or not.
“Damn it! Everyone, run away quickly!” he managed to let out.
“What? You afraid someone is going to get hurt?” Travis snickered, “Don’t worry about them; I’m only going to hurt you.”
“It’s not that I’m worried about, it’s…” he suddenly stopped and hung his head low.
“Hey? What smatter? Did you pass out already?” Travis barked.
“No, just waking up as a matter of fact.” Davis said in a strange voice.
         Suddenly Travis was thrown off of him by some force; the air around him seemed to burn as he slowly walked towards Travis who was lying on a broken table. As he walked, his long brown hair lightened till it was plain white, it almost seemed like it glowed.
“He tried to warn you,” he said in that strange voice, “but nobody listened.”
         He was standing above Travis who had managed to sit up. He looked up at Davis and shock ripped across his face, for not only had his hair changed, but his eyes were now a deep, glowing crimson, and had slit pupils. A smile formed on Davis’ face revealing unnaturally sharp teeth.
“Perfect,” he said as he extended his right hand straight out, suddenly, a scythe appeared in it, with what resembled a spear head at the bottom.

         Davis woke up in the middle of the bar with a headache; he looked outside at the just risen sun. Then he noticed; His clothes were covered in a red substance. He closed his eyes, hoping what he knew was there would in fact not be. When he opened them his fears were confirmed; just over a dozen corpses, including Travis and the bartender, were scattered about the floor. All of them with notable holes and sometimes missing limbs.
“Damn it! Not again,” he said under his breath.
         He walked out of the bar and started down the road. He had no particular destination, just away from that town. As he walked he remembered the events that turned his life around 10 years ago.

         Davis was walking back from the nearby town with the supplies for the next week in the cart he was dragging, for it was his turn… again. The 13 year old was having a hard time dragging the heavy metal cart on the dirt road, he was tired and he still had a mile to go.
“Stupid Bart, always being ‘sick’ on his turns,” he grunted.
         As he was walking two men came running from the direction he was going, they seemed to be arguing.
“Idiot, why did you go and do that!!??”
“It’s not like they gave me a choice! They threatened to tell the guards!”
“You should have at least unlocked the door before you set the place on fire!”
         Davis heard them yell as they passed. As he dragged the cart he saw smoke in the distance. Rising fumes from a great fire.
“Hmmm, The way that smokes rising its just like its coming,” he froze. He then dropped the rope attached to the cart and started to run, “…from the orphanage!”
         He ran as fast as he could to the orphanage, making it there quickly. He burst through the door, thinking of only the ones he loved, he failed to realize the building would collapse soon. He somehow managed to make it to the second floor bedroom, where he assumed everyone was in, and broke the damaged lock. He was too late. Everyone was on the ground, unmoving. Some were even on fire. Thinking rationally for the first time since entering the building, he realized the building was falling. The path leading back outside was already blocked by flames, thinking quickly, he headed for the window and smashed through it. He landed and absorbed the impact by rolling, he looked up for the last time at the orphanage before it finally crumbled and ended up a burning pile of wreckage. Rain began to fall and it eventually put out the flame. Davis was drenched and devastated; all he could think about is the men who did this, wishing for their deaths. Suddenly a voice spoke to him.
“I can help you,” the voice said.
“With what!?” Davis replied startled.
“Don’t you want to get back at the men who did this?” the voice asked.
“How can you help?” Davis asked it.
“I can give you power, power which can get you what you desire.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Just do as I say…”
         A little while later Davis is in the middle of what’s left of the orphanage, a large pentagram made of debris and with small fires at each of the five points surrounds him. His shirt is off and all over his body are strange symbols and writing.
“You sure about this?” Davis asked the voice.
“Yes, this will grant you the power you need. Now all you need to do is call out for it,” it responded.
         Davis sat down in the middle of the arrangement and put his hands together to make an odd gesture.
“Ego dico sicco vobis!  Usus meus somes quod rapio meus animus! Tribuo mihi vestri vox! Eversor!” he screamed.
         Suddenly the entire pentagram burst into flames and consumed Davis. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared into Davis’ body. His Hair grew white, his eyes red, and a scythe was in his right hand. He examined it then quickly swung it horizontally, the blade shot out on a long chain and he whipped it about a bit. He had perfect control over where it went and could pull it back into the staff, which somehow had enough space. It held an infinitely long chain that could be shot out with no pushing force. The spearhead like blade at the hilt could also do this. After testing it some more, he retracted the blade and speed off in the direction of the town the two men were heading to with a smile.
“Tonight will be a night to remember!” he screamed to himself.
         Night had fallen on the small town of Cherry Hill. Most lights were off and the streets were empty. He came slowly walking down the road, the scythe still in his hand. A man was outside smoking; his head hit the ground before he noticed the chained blade in the air. He then proceeded to smash into the buildings around him, most of which were empty stores and taverns. He then noticed a hotel with a room lamp still on, he jumped up to just outside the window and hung peering in. Inside were the two people he was looking for.
“Frank, what we did was wrong,” one of the men said.
“Hey, don’t worry, no one saw us,” Frank responded.
“That’s not what I’m upset about,” he barked.
         Just then Davis smashed in through the window. Frank looked up just before the spear end of the scythe launched into him. It went all the way through and just stuck out his back; it then opened and latched onto him. Davis retracted the thing, pulling Frank with it, and used his foot to stop him and the thing ripped right through him. Davis then cut off one of his legs just for the hell of it, and he fell bleeding and convulsing. Davis smiled and looked at the other man, a look of horror on his face. He turned and started to run for the door, but stopped when he felt severe pain in the middle of his back all the way to his chest. He looked down as his vision faded in and out of focus; the scythe’s blade had impaled him and was sticking out of his chest. He jerked as it was pulled out and collapsed on the floor. Davis walked up to him and jammed the spear end into his back, he cried out in pain as the head opened inside of him. Davis then started slowly turning the scythe, the poor man was convulsing in pain in till finally he ceased moving. Davis seemed disappointed and looked at the other man, he too was dead. A couple of the other guests heard the commotion and were knocking at the door, asking what was wrong. Davis smiled as he sent the blade through the door and silenced everybody outside it. He then knocked it out of the way and proceeded to slaughter everyone inside the hotel. He moved outside and killed everyone unfortunate enough to come across him. Meanwhile inside the hotel, which was entirely made of wood like its surrounding buildings, a couple candles that just happened to be lit in one of the guests rooms had fallen to the floor onto a rug igniting it. Soon the entire place lit up, and the fire jumped to neighboring buildings. Eventually the whole town was burning to the ground, with Davis smiling as he walked away from the carnage.
         Davis woke feeling like crap, he looked around and did not recognize where he was. He tried to remember how he got there. He remembered going to town for supplies for the third time in a row, dragging that heavy cart down that bumpy road.
“I can’t believe Bart got off easy again,” he suddenly remembered the two men on the road. “Who were those two?” As he tried to remember his head hurt and he couldn’t even recall what they were saying.
         Just then a man opened the only door in the room and stepped inside; he looked at Davis and smiled. He had a small tray in his hands with some food and a drink on it.
“Ah, you’re awake. I brought this,” he indicated the tray, “…just in case you were. You must be hungry.”
         As if in response, Davis’ stomach growled rather loudly. Ignoring it he asked, “How did I get here?”
“Found you on the road a few miles outside of Cherry Hill, at least what used to be Cherry Hill.”
“What happened to Cherry Hill?”
“The whole place burnt down overnight, doesn’t look like an accident though. There were a number of corpses that had been cut up on the road leading out of town, looked like a massacre. Found you a little farther out, your shirt was bloodstained so I washed it. It’s drying outside.”
         Davis looked down and realized he wasn’t wearing his own shirt.
“What happened up there in town?” the man asked.
“I can’t remember past yesterday afternoon,” Davis responded.
“Oh well, at least you made it out uninjured.” He set the tray down on a table next to the bed, “I’m Jarrod by the way Jarrod Summers, and you are?”
“Davis,” he responded. “Just Davis.”
“No last name huh? OK.” He heads for the door then stops. “Oh one last thing, what’s that mark on your back for?”
“Mark?” Davis asked, “Where?”
“The one just below your left shoulder, that strange upside-down star in a circle.”
“I don’t know.”
         Jarrod shrugged and left the room leaving Davis by himself. He quickly got up and stood with his back to the mirror in the room and pulled his shirt up. There was indeed a pentagram just below his left shoulder.
“How did that get there?” Davis though out loud.
“Oh I think you know, Davis,” said a voice in his head.
“What!? Who... aghhh ,” Davis clutched his head as it throbbed with pain.
“You can’t block me out that easily; last night was only the beginning.”
         Davis’ eyes were closed from the pain as it increased, suddenly it stopped. He opened his eyes to find, not the room he was in, but a large pile of burned wreckage. He recognized where he was based on the surrounding area, but he could not accept the image being forced on him. As he closed his eyes and shook his head in an effort to get rid of it, more increasingly disturbing images flashed through his head. Davis yelled out during this, causing Jarrod to run into the room. He found Davis huddled up on the floor, he asked him if he was alright. Davis looked at him and Jarrod was startled by the red cat-like eyes staring back at him. He blinked and looked again, normal brown eyes stared back. He wondered if it was just his imagination. He shook his head and asked again.
“Davis, are you alright?”
“I think so, but my heads killing me,” he replied.
“You should lie down, you probably need more rest.”
“I feel more like taking a walk, is my shirt dry yet?”
“Should be, lines just outside the door, you sure you don’t want to lie down?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Ok, but I have to warn you, the activity in Cherry Hill has attracted a cult, it would be best to avoid them.”
         Davis nods and heads out the door then exits the house, he takes his shirt and swaps it out for the one he’s wearing. He takes a look around the town and starts heading down the road. After a while he comes across a building with a piece of paper nailed to the door, on it is a red pentagram. Curiosity outweighs his common sense and he enters the building. Inside a group of people are talking, they seem excited about something. Davis notices they’re all men, middle aged by the looks of it.
“You’ve seen the remains Carl, what’s your take on it?” said one of the men.
“It looks promising, the bodies show signs of the weapon the Great One is depicted to use,” he replied.
“Excellent, then it seems he has returned,” said another man.
“Yes, and with him we can purge this world of the tainted,” the first man added with excitement.
“What’s going on here?” Davis whispered to himself, he was starting to get a headache.
“What was he called in the ancient texts?”  Carl asked.
“Eversor is what they called him,” the first man replied.
“You honestly think I’ll help you?” Davis asked.
“Who’s there!?” Carl yelled in surprise.
         Davis stepped out, his hair was white again, and he had those unnatural eyes.