His Faults

The rebuilding of a man's soul.

Skip down to story, this is just me rambling here. 

First off, I'd like to stay this will be continued, when is unknown. I wanted to post a story a week but that disappeared when I started seriously working on my book and getting friends. Yay. Anyway, hopefully between writer's blocks on the book, unless none happen fingers crossed, there should be more stories. This will be finished, title is unknown, I'm thinking His Traits, but not sure. Enjoy the story, and criticism is welcome unless you're just bashing me for something that doesn't involve my story telling. One last thing, the quality of the story wanes and waxes depending on if the characters are being focused on or the narrator is generally narrating, as it should be.

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A man looks out a window in his room. He's holding a cigarette. He's wanted to look out his window like this for awhile but couldn't. It was too cold and plastic covered it. He's doing this for effect. To look dramatic. To distract him from his own sick memories. It's interesting to see what a man will do to distract himself.

He wants to drink but he's too young to buy alcohol. He feels the demons at his soul's doorstep. They wait their turn politely.

He lays down on his bed, his soul's weapons, a blade with just a handle and a long black blade, meant to be held by one hand, and a small pistol.

It's strange when you think about it. Why would a man need weapons when he is the master of his own mind? What if he isn't? What if no one is?

He falls asleep and in this dream, he falls apart. Each part of him disappears into the world of dreams. His misery, his fury, his small bit of courage, his imagination, his humor, his secret desire to die in a blaze of glory, and the only piece that is truly his, his fear.

They run, they play, they never stop, not really. He's never collected them all. And will he ever? Does he even know about this? Or is this just a story to him? Something he can ignore? 

Don't we all wish we can ignore our own faults?

The hard truth is we can't.

The man's name is John Williams. He's 18, long brown, unkempt hair, smokes, not a chain smoker, maybe four to six a day. His outfit at the moment isn't necessary, it's what his soul looks like that matters. He looks the same but his outfit is black with blood stained sleeves. He wears simple clothes, shoes, shirt, and jacket. He has his soul blade strapped to his back and his soul pistol to his hip. 

Why is he in all black? To signify his loneliness. 

Why are his sleeves stained red? He's so miserable his heart bleeds.

It's terrible. It truly is.

He doesn't want to sleep but he doesn't know why. His soul screams to be able to rest longer. It doesn't want to search again.

But the body always wins. John finishes his cigarette and goes to sleep.

The soul dives into the old world. The world of dreams, ever changing, never staying still. 

Earlier, I told you about his shattered soul. I told you his fear was his only true piece of himself. But that's not the piece that stayed.

The piece that stayed was his secret desire to die in a blaze of glory. It is what suffers so much so when it dies, it feels even better.

His name is simply Nooj. He is the soul I described. He is a death seeker.

He walks the dream world, a feared warrior. Why is he feared? He wishes to die fighting. You should fear that man.

Courage often taunts him, he has chased her for years. It could be love to most. It probably is.

Courage is a pale girl with black hair wearing high heeled boots, black tights, and a black tank top. She is extremely arrogant, but not on purpose. She is athletic to the point of supernatural, and why not?

This is the world of dreams.

He's chased her for years but she always gets away. She's too fast.

Her name is Fortuna.

"Come on Nooj, ready for a run?" She taunts, getting in a running pose.

"I hate you." Nooj grumbles.

"Ready..."

"Come on, this is just ridiculous."

"Set..."

Nooj runs at Fortuna, which makes her start running away.

They run down alleys, onto the rooftops by ladders, through fields and forests, mountains, and through a volcano.

How? Its a world of dreams. It's a very interesting place. But this time is different.

This time there's a brick wall that blocks the way.

"Give it up, you can't escape!" Nooj yells.

"Where there's a will, there's a way," she replies.

"What way?"

"This."

Fortuna turns around, pulling on a pair of metal studded gloves.

"John likes Zell from final fantasy 8 too much,"

"Tifa from final fantasy 7, you mean,"

"8, Zell's a lot tougher."

Nooj pulls out his sword and places the blunt side of the blade on his right shoulder.

"Ready to die?"

"You wish,"

Fortuna charges forward, a haymaker already flying towards Nooj.

He spins to the side and cuts her left strap. Then he kicks her in the side. She takes the blow, catching his leg, and throws him into the brick wall. 

He flips in the air, his feet landing on the wall, and rebounds off of it, launching himself at her, blade held high.

Fortuna moves her right foot back, readying herself for a knockout kick.

Nooj sees his moments and swings, cutting the other strap off. 

Fortuna sees her moment and roundhouse kicks him in the jaw as hard as she can. 

He hits the ground hard.

Fortuna's tank top falls to the ground.

He stands up shakily and says "Should've worn a bra, b***h."

She looks down and gasps, but that's her mistake.

Nooj gets up fast as a snake and holds the blade to her throat.

"They're nice, I'll give them that."

"Pervert."

"Now give up. I've won,"

"Why should I? Why should I even care about his soul's unity?"

"Because if you don't, then no one will. You're the one that needs to go first so the rest will follow,"

"What about that permanent period b***h, Justice?"

"She's what broke us up in the first place, remember?"

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John was falling in his dreams. He knew he'd be fine. But then something jumped from within him.

A tan blonde girl with very large breasts and a small but large black sword. She wore all red, from her eyes to her sneakers. Her jacket, her pants, all so red it's as if it was dipped in blood.

Her name is Justice. She is John's wrath.

She dives at John, blade held high. And cuts him in half, diving through his severed body.

He splits into six. His seven faults. Wrath brought her brothersand sisters with her when she escaped.

They land in the city of dreams. 

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"How'd you get her sword?" Fortuna asks, now realizing its true origin.

"I beat her."

"How? I never beat her, how could you?"

"I found the soul blaster."

He makes a show of pulling out the small pistol and spinning it on his left finger, then catching it by the handle and pointing it at Fortuna, cocking it at the same time.

"That still wouldn't be enough."

"Ahhh, that is true. I had a little help from Jacob."

"Imagination?"

"He's a badass here."

"He creates and destroys with magic. He helped me fine this pistol. He helped me beat Justice."

He is the brightest of them all. His skin is pale, but it suits him. He wears a long brown trenchcoat, sky blue jeans, black combat boots, a white T-shirt with a middle finger on the front, and his green hair straight up, and spiked.

"It was a long battle. Her wrath making her even with me and Jacob, even with the soul blaster and his magic.

It was long, and painful. Very painful. For everyone. This pistol shoots out beams of energy, you know. Hurts like a b***h. But she shook them off. Punches, kicks, fire and lightning, took it all and dished out her own punches and even some magic. Not as fancy as Jacob's, but a wave of energy is a wave of energy. Painful, but easily dodged at times.

"We went our separate ways after that. Haven't seen him for 2 years."

Fortuna is silent. Nooj has put his weapons away already. He's leaning on the wall now.

"Will you help me?" He asks.

"I'm sick of being alone, always fighting these monsters."

"The nightmares,"

"The nightmares."

Nooj didn't want to admit it, but he had forgotten she fought the nightmares as well.

He held out his hand to shake. She took his hand with a smile.

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They had combined their knowledge of the other soul pieces and would be going after the easiest to find.

"So our personality, aka Deimos, would be around the game area?" Nooj asks.

"Indeed. Gamings such a big part of John's life, it's obvious really,"

"I don't know where that's at."

"Figures. Follow the leader, Nooj."

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The Game Area. It's literally a small room filled with game systems and games. From Gameboy Advance to internet flash games. 

In here sat someone rarely seen.

Deimos. Little's known about him due to his intense gaming. 

But one thing's clear. The nightmares avoid the game area. Why is unknown.

Nooj knocks on the door.

1....2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9......10.

"He's not answering." Nooj clarifies.

Fortuna turns the doorknob.

"It's unlocked. Who leaves their door unlocked?" Fortuna asks, shocked.

"No idea." Nooj replies, equally shocked.

They walk inside to find a young man laying on a couch, typing into his phone.

This is Deimos. He has long brown hair, combed. He speaks intelligently. He is a writer. He pisses people off a lot. He's fun. He smokes. Cigarettes, preferably Marlboro reds or his own menthol bag of tobacco. With his own rolls.

He has pale skin. He wears a black long sleeved shirt with Squall from final fantasy 8 on it, black jeans, a necklace with a lion head on it, and black sneakers, rarely worn due to his intense gaming and occasional writing.

There's various weapons that seem to be born from the videogames themselves all around the room.

"Evening lady and gentlemen." Deimos says, standing up.

He looks at Fortuna for a second then asks "Who cut your tank top straps and why are they tied in so many knots?"

Nooj can't help but laugh, and receives a hit to the groin for his laughter.

"I see. What brings you guys here anyway?"

"We're collecting our brothers and sisters," Fortuna answers brightly, pleased with Nooj's pain.

"Really? Why?"

"To restore John." Nooj answers.

"Hmmm. Can't lie when I say I like that idea but I'm worried about Justice and Misery. I never even seen Misery." Deimos says, troubled.

"...you don't know Misery's name, Deimos?" Fortuna asks.

"No. I don't think anyone does."

"Probably. She was always pushed aside," Nooj puts in.

"Well, where is the most miserable place in this hellhole?" Deimos asks.

"Probably the..." Fortuna leaves off.

"Dreams?"

"No, too fun. Maybe the area you're always chasing me through,"

"Or the-"

"How about that part of town that has no lights?" Deimos interrupts.

"Gotta point there. We'll search there first." Nooj says, walking out the door.

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Personality, Courage, and the Deathseeker are together. They go in search of Misery. But where is she? They go to the city of night, that was once known as Elysia. It's now called suicide.

It's where the nightmares live.

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Deimos was wondering where the Soul Blaster came from. Is it possible that it really is a legendary weapon of the spirit world?  Or did John's own subconscious create it just for us?

"What could this have to do with us? Or is he more important than we know?" He thought.