Landing ass up...

         Marcel did indeed and most truly land ass up on this planet called ''Hellifyno'' Though much to his dismay, it happened that he landed against the hard and..unclean streets of the Red Light District. The same streets that are crawling with this planets...shall we say multi-talented?  Never the less, Marcel Falconi was there. One would stop to the wonder how such a man would find himself in a very unpleasant state such as this. How, a man that was noted with high regards landed smack dab on a planet in chaos from war, murder and the fighting for freedom? It took Marcel a few moments, but soon the events that lead to this began to flood his head like an ocean of memories.

The Journey Across Hellifyno

Part One

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      The two horse carriage bumped and shook it's way along the back roads in the vast country side. The beautiful designs that were featured on the carriage small prints of a jay bird blue, and the fine lines of gold were becoming battered from the rocks and other objects that had been launched up as the carriage continued on the journey. Though it has been traveling for quite some time now, the horses who braved to go along on this trip continued to carry on. The light summer air of July breezing past to brush up their light brown and blonde manes here and then.

      It seemed to be the best day for a trip such as this. Not a feather light cloud was to be painted across the ocean blue skies. Despite the travels being across the back country side, the scene was nothing less then beautiful. Light wisps of the white buds from dandelions seems to speckle across the evergreen fields, dancing along as they were carried about in the playful breeze. If one were to draw in a deep breath, they could smell the clean, pure outdoors, fresh grass and the patches of violet and yellow wild flowers that sprouted about along the road. Happy little birds chirped away as they joined with each other, some a sunshine yellow, a few others taking on a rose red color to chirp and call out to their fellow friends in flight. Once or twice, you may even have the chance to spot a deer and her fawn searching for something rather good to eat, or to simply run along in the open fields for a bit of play time.

    Despite how wonderful the scene was around him, Marcel payed little to no attention to it. The man's mind had been preoccupied with many thoughts, that some in his time would consider quite strange, or could even dare to ruin his social reputation. However, despite the actions and his numerous thoughts, Marcel could not stop the spread of a smile across his face. This smile as always lit up the mans handsome features, his cherished smile seeming to light up his emerald green eyes in delight. Marcel Falconi is a man in his thirties, well fit and extremely polite and charming. This of course stems back to his training in social etiquette as a young man on up. He had a wonderful job, a writer for one of London's most popular news magazines known as ''The Graphic''. Quite simply Marcel wrote about sports.

    Now to say that Marcel did not enjoy sports was a lie, he found it to be quite a lovely past time. However his true passion lies within what Marcel calls ''other worldly''. This meaning anything supernatural, such as myths and tales, legends and stories. One could find him in the library of his estate, tucked away in a corner with a cup of tea and an odd assortment of books. When he decided to start writing about this subject manner, along with sports, the news magazine doubled in sales! Sadly though, the higher ups of his simply slapped a press ban against it. This only added worse to his fate. For only a few short years ago, the woman he was betrothed to, and vowed to marry, was killed in a house fire.

    True passion is what brought Marcel to leave his job, as well as his estate to his sister in the hopes of her enjoying it with a man who had just asked for her hand in marriage. It took quite allot of thinking on his part. What was he to do when he left? How could he live, survive? Deep down, Marcel since childhood had dreamed of adventures, exploring the world. In fact, it has always been his plan to become a worldly man. (Not to mention the fact that the woman seemed to enjoy a worldly and classy gentleman) For a sold month straight, Marcel had made his plans. He spent hours hunched over in the drawing room, his only company being a few lit candles to guide his eyes in search of myths and stories. Marcel was like a small child during the holidays, excited for the unknown and hopefully the rewards of his good actions and hard work.

   Marcel took the hardest hit when telling his family, and loved ones goodbye. When those in his social circle asked him as to why he was leaving, Marcel simply stated that there was another news magazine who had offered him more for his stories. What a risk he had taken, they may at some point find out about his little lie, thus becoming the laughing joke between his friends. He knew that by doing this, he would be giving up his status as an elite member of the London society, and everything in his life he had worked for. It would all at the end of a hot summer day, be for nothing.

   When the moon was at her fullest, smiling down as if blessing Marcel from the clear summer night, Marcel has ever so quietly packed his things inside the guest carrier of the carriage. With a final good bye, Marcel bowed his head to his home, showing a form of respect for how good she had been to him, to keep him safe and most importantly...keeping his secrets safe and sound from prying ears.

   These memories seem to have faded from his mins when his emerald eyes spotted someone ahead walking along the off beaten path he had been taking. Upon closer inspection, he caught sight that it had been an older woman, dressed in ragged clothing from head to toe. He cringed a bit inside, recalling how to speak with such a low looking person would have surely put his status at risk. Marcel shook his head as he knew that was already out of the picture. As he reached behind her, the carriage slowed it's pace to a crawl, both horses glad for the slight break.

   The aging woman glanced up to Marcel. Her white hair had been spotted with dirt and mud it seemed, though that was not the worst of it! She appeared to be blind, both eyes slicked over with a glistening white fluid. The dark iris just able to be seen. Marcel had struck up a short conversation with the hag as the carriage came to a restful stop. The horses huffed out, stomping their hoofs to ground as if in thanks. Marcel had explained to her what he was looking for, sharing with her ideas on the myths and legends of monsters he had heard to exist in the area. oddly enough, the hag seemed to snicker in delight, telling Marcel she knew of such a place to find what his heart desired. Stepping away, the hag simply waved a hand for Marcel to follow her along the sot green grass and of his carriages road. She explained there was a clearing just ahead and that is where Marcel would find what he is looking for.

   Marcel followed this stranger eagerly, desperate to get a glance and see these beings for himself. What were they he wondered? Witches? Vampires? Either way..he followed. His polished black dress shoes seemed to loose their luster as the grass and raw earth rubbed against them. In what seemed a short amount of time, he did follow the hag into the wide clearing. She simply waved her hand for him to step closer, her frail and boney fingers pointing to a hole that was carved out into the earth. Curiously, Marcel did in fact do as she instructed. Leaning over slightly, a dark brow quirked in confusion. He had seen nothing.

   When the old hag felt it was the perfect time, the first move she made was to steal the bag of coins he seemed to have carried at his belt. Despite how old she appeared, she seemed to move as fast as a child could. In the blink of an eye, and in the confused blinks of Marcel's own eyes, the had snapped out a hand to snatch the coins from him. By the time Marcel processed what happened, a heavy kick from a heeled boot was sent into his back, his feet losing balance as he tipped forward with a gasp of horror and fell head first into the pit.

   Honestly, Marcel was simply waiting for him to hit the bottom by now. Instead he was greeted with nothing but rushing darkness past his eyes. The smell of blood, metal, sweat and death trailed to him. Faster and faster Marcel had fallen through the pit. When he glanced up, the opening that he fell through was no longer there.

   Much to his dismay, Marcel landed on the back of wooden cart filled with old clothing items and stained bedding. He some how found time to thank God for his miracle of a landing. As soon as the shock wore off from his body. Marcel's jaw had dropped to the sights around him..they were nothing as he had ever seen before....