Heaven & Hell
A Decade and a Half Later
Malock Wimpher ruffled his long black hair as sun beams stabbed at him like hot blades, it seemed hotter than ever. A blue jacket slung over his broad shoulders, swaying as he strolled along, he wiped his brow as the blazing heat seemed to melt the clouds away. He wore a tight tank top tucked into the waist of his black sweat pants; that seemed to fall over his runners. He had unusual eyes, they were silver, but glowed white whenever he was faced with the sun, which right now made him look like he had nothing but a small black pupil. He was walking alone and rather pleased in the soul, on the gravel roads that never ceased to stop twisting and dividing into separate paths along the country lands of the continent Simple; the countryside made up half, while city and pollution made up the other.
His calm walk soon startled him, as an explosion sent a vibration through the ground that almost knocked Malock off his feet. He spun around, looking at the sky as a mushroom of smoke spread across it. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed a small silhouette emerging from the smoke chambers, flames licking at their feet as they stumbled from the smoke prison. They seemed covered in ash, scorch marks engraved in their clothes. They fumbled around with something that was long, silver, and gave Malock the reminder of steel before they shook their head and made their way straight for him. His breathing suddenly trembled.
The gray smoke seemed to be fogging his vision even from where he stood. He rubbed his eyes which were watering and tried hard to focus on the mysterious figure as they grew larger, coming closer. There was a curtain of black hair flapping behind them, quite identical to Malock’s, expect only shorter and more famine. Now that the figure was coming closer, he realized that a lot of things were famine. He could clearly see that this figure ran in graceful strides, her slender body moving poise in the wind. Her face was thin, and even through the ash stains, he noticed that her skin was a pallid complexion, very pale, giving the color of a person who drowned. Their eyes also had shown a bright white as they approached. Malock stepped back alarmed, as the figure started flailing their arms frantically, as if to get his attention.
“Maloe!?” a startled Malock gawked.
Maloe, his sister was approaching him quite quickly, her red and yellow outfit now three different shades of black and gray, she grinned at him as she finally came into talking distance, “Hey, Malock!”
Malock looked from the smoke curling into the air, turning into a haze and then disappearing, and then back again at his sister, his mouth was partially open in disbelief, “You blew up another one of Mr. Chew’s gasoline tanks, didn’t you?”
“Uhh... kindaish...” Maloe grinned, her guilty innocents shining through the mask of smoke covering her face, her teeth were pearly white, and stuck out awkwardly.
“That’s the fourth one this mouth!” Malock scowled.
“Yeah… well…” Maloe said, fingering a burned hole in her sleeve, “You know…”
“Well – what – how – is he coming?” Malock asked as if he spit the question out.
“No. But I can hear him screaming though.” Maloe chuckled.
“Maloe, you don’t have any shame?” Malock asked his eyes wide “Do you?”
“Well, he doesn’t need to get his panties in a bunch all the time.” Maloe sighed, rolling her eyes, as Malock took a head start down the road, opposite the smoke, which was mostly gone now.
Malock turned to face his sister, “He’s at least 70 years old now… probably went through more cardiac arrests then you’re insignificant mind can count up too. I'm sure he has his reasons.”
“Well, I just like to train in his meadow.” Maloe explained, clearly not taking Malock’s last statement as an insult, “its huge… incase you haven’t noticed.”
“And filled with gasoline tanks.” Malock added.
“So what! He should move them.”
“If he was physically able too, I’m sure he would.” Malock sighed, “Why do you keep training for anyways?”
“Well,” Maloe took a deep breath as if she was about to give a long stretched out conversation, “I want powers like yours.”
“Like mine?” Malock questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you know. That one time, while you were training and then… ice… it somehow found its way out of you.”
“Don’t talk about that, alright?” Malock said, “I hate it. It makes me feel like a freak.”
“Well, if that’s the way you look at it.” Maloe shrugged, “One of these days I could like… shoot fire or something out of my Katana.”
And with that, Maloe pulled out a long blade made of steel and waved it at Malock, he rolled his eyes, feeling a bit annoyed, “What do you suppose you’d do with it?”
Maloe polished her Katana with her sleeve before answering; she put one hand on Malock’s shoulder and looked at him with a generous face, as if she was ready to serve him a speech of loyalty, love, and compassion. Her lips twisted a little bit, “I would barbeque your ass!”
Maloe laughed, as Malock again rolled his eyes. He was getting irritated by his sister’s ignorant attitude; he glared at her, shaking his head disapprovingly at Maloe’s acts of immaturity. Maloe noticed it, and her laugh quickly faded, getting quite irritated herself.
“And why don’t you use your ‘powers’ to your advantage?” Maloe asked, hands on hips.
“Because,” Malock said in exasperated sigh, “I don’t even know what it is. I know absolutely nothing about it. It just so happened to dawn on my one day.”
“You’re such a loser, Malock.” Maloe grinned, “I would be using some ice right now, to cool me off… lord knows I’ll be crispy within the next few hours, and we all know that everyone likes Maloe best when she’s tender.”
“I wouldn’t worry about becoming crispy there, Maloe.” Malock smirked, “We all know that you’re half baked already.”
The dawning expression on Maloe’s face made her seem like she was actually impressed that someone like Malock who was so serious all the time could actually produce something that seemed so… funny.
“Nice one.” Maloe snorted, violently shouldering Malock as she took to a running start down a gravel hill with livid trees running in rows on the sides. She gave Malock a backwards glance, “Last one home gets to eat the ashes from my shoes.”
“Whatever.” Malock sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“I’m not joking!” Maloe shouted back to him, “I’ll force feed it down your throat.”