• Its not my fault! Its never my fault! Its stupid Ike! He ruins everything!, Akako screams scream in her mind as she slams her feet down in motion to her room. evil Stupid Ike. Ruining her moment. Is it her fault hes blind? No! It isnt! Ike was being stubborn! Being a jerk! AGAIN! The long black staircase of the Devil Tower reminded Akako of some scary movies that normal people watch. When cheesy superheros climb up creaky old staircases to fight off the villan. No time to think of that! She had to think of a way to impress her father, without stupid Ike getting in the way. She finally reached the top and ran into her room. Her maroon colored wallpaper blended in with the dark shadowy sky outside her window. It was 7 in the morning, but in the Underworld it's always dark and gloomy. She didn't know why; she's not the flippin weather lady. Her dresser was huge and each peice of clothing in it was pure black and red. Right now she wore a pure training outfit; perfect for fighting. A red T-shirt that folded around her waist, a black mini-vest with dark purple buttons to keep it closed over T-shirt, under the top was a black mini skirt with red and black striped leggings, and black combat boots that buckled at the side. A typical outfit she wears when shes training for 14 hours a everyday. She put her long black hair and tied it swiftly into a french braid that flowed down to her waist. She put the loose bangs over her sharp right eye witch was as black as a black viper, and they looked like a black viper's eye. Her spine trembled, but she was trained to istantly stop fear in the body, so she stopped it. She leaned by her maroon hard-wood door and heard faint sounds of her father yelling at Ike. When your 14, and normal, you can get yelled at alot by your parents. When your father's the flippin Devil then you get tortured for punishment. She could remember the cruelist punishiment ever, and of course it was on Ike. They were only 8, and Ike was fed up with being beaten and bullied by father just cuz he was blind and stood up to dad. Big. Mistake. Turns out Ike had half, thats right half of his life sucked out by his own father. Getting your life sucked out was not very fun. After that day, Ike has never stood up for anyone, or anything, even himself. Since he went to human school, Ike was treated like crud and always got beat up and teased. If you pour a smoothie on Ikes head; he wont move. If you drop Ice down his shirt; he wont say anything. Just keep it bottled up... Like an idiot, Akako thought to herself. She slipped out the door and slided catiously to the top of the staircase to make out what Ike was getting yelled at for this time.
    "WHATS WRONG WITH YOU! YOU STUPID BOY! Y CANT U SIMPLY COMPLETE THIS EXERSICE! ITS FOR NINE YEAR OLDS! FINISH IT! OR YOU WONT GET ANYTHING TO EAT TODAY... AGAIN!"
    Akako heard a shuddering slam of the door, indecating that her father had left and snuck enough down to see the family gym. Ike was looking down letting tears of defeat and utter humiliation drop down his face. All he had to do was punch a simple hole through a wall that their dad had marked. That'd been at it since they were three. Akako finished it the second try. Ike, however, did not. He was still on it. Both Akako and her dad knew why; because Ike was blind, and couldn't see the wall mark. Ikes hand were balled into fists that were scraped and bleeding badly. Akako wanted to go down there badly and maybe even tell him it's ok. But she couldnt for 3 reasons. (1) If she was caught by her dad she would be dead. (2) Ike is tough, and doesnt like to be treated like he was weak and retarted. (3) There is no way on this Earth Ike could smile, or be comforted.
    Akako managed to sneak back into the room without Ike 'Bat Ears' or 'Strange senses' to detect her spying. How the heck can Ike sense things, anyway? I mean Ike is tough, yea, but hes weak too. Hes only got ONE power. Thats it. Just telecani-... telicane-... Ohh i cant spell it! Lets just spell it telechanises. Sorry for that poor spelling, but you know what i mean! Moving stuff with your brain, BORING!
    I can do way better than that, Akako boasted in her mind with a devilish smile, Reading minds, telling futures at times, controlling fire, super strength. Im Godzilla compared to Ike.
    She smiled again and jumped on her silky blankets that layered on top of her bed. Ike is stupid. He's just some dumbhead that can't see, or think strait.
    Besides, Ike, Akako pretended she was talking right at him, I'm better than you and Arik, wherever Arik is right now. I'M number one. I'M the best there is. I'M gonna crush you two. I'M gonna win the Devil Battle.
    And with that, Akako stood up proud and determined. She WAS the best.

    Ike pounded the wall over and over again. He'd lost the feelings in both his fists hours ago, but he still felt a painful jolt in his arm whenever he punched the brick wall that supposidly held a mark he was supossed to punch.
    Suck it up you moron! Ike screamed at himself in his brain, you need to get that mark! Or you don't eat!
    Ike felt the brick wall layered with chips and liquid stuff, maybe blood. He toke a little waft at the wall. Yep, it's blood. He rubs his hands together. It was too numb; he couldn't feel anything. Sighing, Ike stumbled to the wall and felt around it and found the clock. Skimming his hands along the bold digits he could see it was 8:47am. He'd been punching for 6 hours strait.
    No breaks, Ike suffered the thoughts through his mind, No breaks, no water, nothing until you get that mark!
    He stoumach growled and tightened in protest. He hadn't eaten in four days, and probably today. Ike couldn't help it. He fell to his knees and clutched his stomach letting more tears of pain slide through his non-seeing eyes.
    I'm lost. Im just lost. I can't do it. I give up. Ike whiped his eyes roughly, I won't eat today... I. just. need. to...
    Ike fell on his side on the concrete floor, not caring about the pain echoing through his nerves and his stoumach topping all of it with its screams of hunger. Ike managed the last bit of his thought before dropping his head, rest.