Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield #21 and am making no money from this.
Author's Note: I HAVE THE BOOKS! Hopefully these renovations make this story better for all readers. (You gotta love Hiruma. He is the funniest little shit in the world.)
I don't know if this is true so Deimon now has a basement they call the dungeon like my school does.
Luck of the Devil
Monday Morning 10:00am
At all high schools there is are certain rules on what types of chemicals that the school is allowed to have. Anything that could possibly blow up is not allowed, and anything acidic is severely watered down. The young man in the older part of Deimon High knew this. He just didn't care. He was sitting at a table in the East wing of the school in one of the basement, or 'Dungeon' classrooms that was currently being renovated. Normally the class and corridor would be full of students at this time of day, but the renovation was an extensive one and classes could not be held in this part of the building. Because of the close proximity of the renovation building to the rest of the school and the nature of the work being done, construction could not be held during school hours, leaving the building deserted until the students went home. On the table in front of the student an assortment of things were laid out, most of which had no business being in a High school.
Various mixtures sat in glass beakers, some boiling over burners and some just sitting there. In pieces directly in front of him, was the body of a grenade, an MK3 A2 concussion offensive hand grenade to be exact. The fiber shell was opened up and waiting to have something placed inside it. The 8 ounces of explosive TNT filler had been removed carefully and placed with the other 192 ounces on an adjacent table against the far wall of the room under the windows.
The student, a second year named Mugaku Shinjirarenai, lifted a box from the floor and took out the brown clay like substance that was inside it, dropping the empty box back to the floor beside his chair. Breaking small pieces from the main block, he used the moldable material to pad the inside of the bottom of the grenade shell. He used his thumb to press down into the clay and make a hole in the clay filler to put the tube. Standing he reached for a small glass vial that sat alone in one of the racks on the table. Lifting it slowly, he placed it vertically inside the grenade on the clay and pressed it down gently. The inside of the tube had been seperated into two halves by a thin, hard wax plug, a viscous blue liquid filled the bottom half of the tube, while a clear, watery liquid filled the top. The top of the grenade had been altered with a powerful spring and a wedge to slam down on the vial a few seconds after removing the pin and releasing the grip. Breathing a sigh of relief as he placed the other half on top and sealed them back up, he lifted it and turned around, intending to place it with the other grenades already finished.
It had been an ingenious idea to lift the grenades from the American Football Team's clubhouse's basement. (All his idea of course.) He had gotten one of the school's first year punks to pick the lock on the door to the basement in exchange for one of the chemical grenades that he was going to make. The lights had come up automatically when he and the punk had walked down the stairs into the basement, and he and the other youth were shocked at the arsenal that was there. Arsenal being the only word for the sheer amout of offensive weaponry lining the walls to the high ceiling. Hiruma Youichi had enough weapons to stage a takeover of the city of Deimon in this basement alone. Shinjirarenai didn't want to see what his house looked like. The punk had sidled over to the wall of semi-automatic weapons and tried to lift one of the many well cared for guns that rested on special gun racks but Shinjirarenai had stopped him. The punk fought with him but had quieted when Shinjirarenai had explained a little about the owner. The other was skeptical at first until he pointed out the fact that Hiruma had an private arsenal on school property. Amused by the other's disbelief he had thought: 'Guess he hasn't actually met Hiruma face to face yet.'
The owner of the private arsenal didn't use grenades too often and might not notice the few missing that they planned to take, but Shinjirarenai could see that all of these particular guns were well cared for, the black and silver metal shining with oil in the flourescent light. Many of the guns showed signs of wear under the oil, grips and stocks worn smooth from frequent handling. The AK-47's and rocket launchers especially, indicating that Hiruma used them fairly often. Indeed, one of each of the afore mentioned weapons had been missing as well as a few hand guns from the back wall. Shinjirarenai had seen most of these weapons make an appearance at one point or another, although he was unable to tell guns of the same type apart, and knew that the gun obsessed Demon that owned them would notice their absence immediately. If that happened, they wouldn't have a snowflake's chance in hell of escaping that particular blonde Demon's wrath. He had ignored the other's further gaping and had started going through the large amount of boxes on the floor and shelves that were emblazoned with a head-on silhouette of Hiruma's evilly grinning face. Upon finding the right box he had grabbed the still staring punk and pushed him up the stairs before him, the lights going out as they reached the top and relocked the door.
Shinjirarenai looked down at the finished grenade in his hand. It had taken almost a week to finish them all but he had been right. The Demon Hiruma hadn't noticed the lack of a box full of grenades and the young man and his punk partner were feeling pretty good. They were the first ones ever to pull one over on Hiruma. Now the thoughts of what the grenades could be used for rushed madly through his head. Like the thought of being able to use these new grenades to steal Hiruma's crown as the most dangerous and influential student at Deimon High. It was intoxicating.
He was still floating high on his fantasys about what he could do with the grenades as he stood, and was walking towards the table against the inner wall with the finished chemical grenades on it when he caught his foot on the box he had left on the floor and tripped. His arms flew forwards, hands opening in a too late attempt to save himself from falling flat on his face. The impact did little damage to his young body and he managed to bounce to his feet almost immediately using both hands. His eyes widened as realization hit home. He looked up just in time to see the grenade, that he had thrown accidentally as a natural reaction to his over-balanced state, land with a dull thud and the muffled 'crsh' of breaking glass, on top of the pile of others and bounce. His blue eyes widened at his next realization. There was no pin in the top. He raced forwards, arms reaching out, at a speed that would make Seijuro Shin green with envy. He never made it.
It had taken a few seconds for the liquid in the hollow for the now broken glass tube to mix, the watery fluid reacting with the viscous. The molecules inside moving faster as the reaction moved further along, the liquid boiling, building pressure. The explosion when it came, was still above the table, and awe inspiring in it's fury. Greenish white, and almost invisible flames spread outwards, propelled by the compressed gasses greated inside the grenade's black, fiber body and setting fire to the walls and Shinjirarenai's hair, clothing and skin. The concussion pushing down on the table shattered the table legs and tipped it over backwards, throwing the other grenades into the wall. The clay inside managed to keep most of the glass tubes together but the few that broke sealed the fate of the others. The second explosion came only seconds after the first and near the floor, destroying the wall and gutting the building behind it.
The substance inside the grenades, being of a highly volatile nature and designed to do as much damage as possible, shattered the fiberglass sleeve over the top of the grenade and propelled the pieces outwards. The almost powdered fiberglass, being at waist height and propelled at high speeds by the 25 exploding grenades, sliced messily into Shinjirarenai's body, mincing his chest and face to the point that it looked like raw hamburger. The concussion put out the flames on his front and threw him backwards across the room into the table of TNT from the original grenades. The invisible white flames still burning on his back lit the TNT on fire too. The exploding TNT completely obliterated Shinjirarenai's body above the waist sending blood and pieces of intestines spraying across the room. The youth felt only brief moments of pain and terror as he hit the table of TNT, the fire having destroyed most of the skin and nerves, before his thoughts and dreams were silenced forever.
The type of grenade that Shinjirarenai had stolen was primarily used for close combat, designed to produce casulties but limit damage to friendly personel, but were also used for demolition in enclosed areas like a building. The chemical explosions created a large concussion, clearing out the basement, collapsing walls and weakening the building supports but not doing much damage over all. The TNT explosives taken from the 25 grenades obliterated nearly the entire wing of the school in just a few seconds tearing a massive, gaping hole out of the four floors even though almost half of the power went into destroying the courtyard between the two protrusions from the East Wing. Metal fragments of support beams and chunks of wood and cinder blocks were thrown as far away as the street on the opposite side of the football field, shattering windows in the classrooms in the west and the remainder of the east wing. Dust and smoke chased by flames belched up from the hole in the building, debris flying high into the sky like a beacon
Students in the field screamed and dropped flat or ran for cover, protecting their heads from the debris which was falling like rain. Their screams of terror completely drowned out by the echoing sound of the explosion and the roar of falling concrete.
Moments after the original explosion, there was a second one, not as loud but just as powerful, as the wing closed off and seperated from the rest of the school for renovations started to sway. Students raced from classrooms near the building as it tipped and slammed into the East Wing corridor destroying the third and fourth floor classrooms, dropping concrete, cinderblocks, and steel down into the growing hole under the building. The overstressed second floor collapsed with another loud explosion like the amplified crack of a whip, the concrete ceiling meeting the floor and smashing through it. The falling building started to slide, screeching down the side of the East Wing corridor, ripping a gash down the side that you could see clearthrough. When it finally hit ground the wave of fast moving dust, debris, and air flattened the trees and shelter by the bus stop, and completely covered the road in a thick haze of dust.
The football team, led by Sena, had come outside at the first explosion but were driven back inside by the rain of debris, where they watched in horror as the building collapsed. There was only one thought running through their heads as they stood there. Had Hiruma done this?
Hiruma Youichi, Quarterback of the American football High School Team, The Deimon Devil Bats, snarled in anger as he kicked the box of grenades back against the wall. Just as he had thought. He was short one box. He knew that he hadn't used them so therefore, someone must have taken them. His brilliant green eyes narrowed. There was only one student in the school that could open the lock that he had put on the door to the clubhouse's basement, but he was too stupid to know that there was anything of value down there. Add to that, the door to the basement was inside the clubhouse. He whirled and started up the staircase. There was a surveillance camera inside the clubhouse that only watched the basement door. It had been disguised so that one wouldn't know it if they were looking right at it, specifically for a time like this. There had always been the chance that someone would tryto steal from him, but Hiruma had done everything he could to prevent that. He knew that while he swung a gun around like it was a toy, he was trained to use one, and had years of experience as well as a sterling record for aiming, most people, while they might have an idea from T.V. did not have the first clue how to use semi-automatic, or automatic weapons, and would probably kill themselves or someone else.
Quieted by the thought, he silently made his way up the stairs and to his computer. The camera sent an encoded wireless signal directly to his phone that he could watch if he plugged it into his laptop. Since the last time he had been down there and had done inventory was a week ago, and he knew for a fact that the grenades had been there, they had to have been taken around the same time. Sitting down in a chair, he took his red cellphone and the cord out of his pocket and plugged it into the jack on the side of his laptop. It took almost an hour before he found the footage that he was looking for. He bared his teeth in a snarl and a low growl rumbled in his chest, silencing the conversation of his team members around him. The team recoiled when they saw him. The snarls previous to this one had been scary enough, but the inhuman rumbling from his chest brought out prey instincts that made them all shrink back against the wall farthest from the source of their fear. Their frightened eyes focused on the gleaming white canines that seemed to be a lot bigger and more dangerous that originally thought. Hiruma never even looked in their direction as he stood, leaving the computer playing the security tape of the students taking the grenades and stalked to the door slamming it open, and walking in a straight line towards the rear gate and west entrance to the school.
Hiruma had absently noticed the reactions from his team mates but didn't pay them any attention. He knew where to look for the person who had stolen his grenades, there was only one place that he could go now to be alone. Mugaku Shinjirarenai was a second year student in his class that he knew hated him imensly. He didn't really know why though. He had never spoken to the other youth, and sat on the other side of the room. He had always felt hostile eyes boring into him and more often than not it was Mugaku Shinjirarenai that was doing it.
He swung open the heavy door and was walking through the foyer usually full of shoe closets, now full of building materials, towards the stairs to the basement when he heard the first explosion. It sounded like a loud dull thump and made the building shake underfoot, dust cascading down onto him from the gutted ceiling. His ears barely had time to twitch at the recognizable sound when the second explosion blew apart the wall and floor next to and below him.
Letting out a surprised yell, Hiruma scrabbled for something to grab onto as the floor disappeared from below him. He hit the concrete basement floor landing with a dull thump and a quiet splash. Time seemed to slow down as he looked to the side. He screamed and recoiled deeper into the building. The sight of the body severed at the waist, blood and organs pooling around it was burned into his mind. He belatedly registered the trail of blood leading away from the body and looked down. His pants and hands were covered in blood, leaving a trail behind him as he tried to escape the sight. He cursed and tried to wipe the blood off on his pants but only ended up smearing it worse. A scream of tortured metal against concrete made him look up. A mass of steel and concrete was coming falling towards him. He scrambled to his feet and started to run heading deeper into the school.
Mugaku Shinjirarenai - means 'incredible ignorance'I think
What do you think of the new chapter? Is it better than the old one?
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