Well, with the good responses I got from the idea, I figured I'd
give it a go. This is just a draft and is by no means final. Besides, I
thought it was time to post something that WASN'T somehow related to the
ongoing canon flamewar. - _ ^

        C&C, thoughts, ideas, etc. are welcome. Flames will be cheerfully
ignored.

        Visit Jed's Fanfic page! http://web.infoave.net/~jedediah

=========================================================

        Night covered the city in a blanket of darkness, bringing with it a
crisp chill to the air. Streetlamps flickered to life grudgingly as the
shadows lengthened relentlessly, casting pools of artificial light on the
cracked siddewalks.
        The Shinto shrine dated back to the early 1800's, when most of the
area was still farmland and fishing villages. The structure had withstood
storms, raiders, and vandals alike, though had been badly damaged in the
second world war. However, it had been rebuilt by those who believed. The
shrine was a symbol of the old ways, a sign of the modern co-existing with
the ancient, a humble structure of stone and wood amidst towers of metal and
glass.
        The old man stood out on the stone steps, a straw broom in his
wrinkled hands. To the casual observer, he appeared to be a man of around
sixty. Long white hair fell down the back of the plain kimono wrapped about
his wiry frame. His face was serene as he slowly, almost methodically, moved
the broom back and forth across the stone surface of the steps.
        Looking up, he saw the outline of a man standing in the glow of the
streetlamps, staring at him. He straightened, his eyes never leaving the
strange figure before him. He could have sworn the street was deserted only
ten seconds ago.
        "Are you lost?" he asked. It may have been someone who needed
directions to a certain locale, or someone out for a stroll.
        "Nah, just lookin'," the figure replied, taking a few steps forward.
"I haven't been to a shrine lately, I figured it was time to pay my repects."
        "Ah, good," the old man said. "Do come in. I'll make us some tea."
He turned and entered the shrine, the young man close behind. In these
modern times of power and avarice, it was good to find a youth still
dedicated to the old ways.

        Once inside the well-lit main chamber, the youth knelt on tatami
mats before the rounded pillar of stone. He clapped twice, bowed his head
and began praying to the spirits while the old man went about preparing the
tea. After a few moments, the youth finished his prayers, rose, and knelt
again at the low table in the small kitchen. The old priest knelt at the
table across from him, pouring the green brew into two small cups.
        He took in the young man across from him, the long brown coat
conclealed his build, but he carried himself in a confident, athletic
manner. Thick black hair hung down his back in a braided tail, blue eyes
taking in the room.
        "C'n I tell you somethin'?" he asked in a quiet voice.
        "Of course," the priest replied.
        "It's a long story. I ain't too sure where to start."
        "The beginning is always the best place."

        "I'm Ranma Saotome," he began. "I spent a lot of my life on the
road, just me an' pop. I'll skip a lot of the details, and just say that my
life's always been pretty weird.
        "Anyways, pop brings me along to live with a friend of his, who
happens to have three daughters. I end up engaged to the youngest of them,
but that's a whole other story, and you don't wanna hear it believe me."
Ranma took a sip of his tea, and continued. "The oldest one was a girl named
Kasumi. I don't know the whole story, but she took care of the place,
y'know? Sorta like a mom or somethin'. She was one of the nicest people
you'd ever meet."
        "I take it you felt strongly for her," the priest said.
        "Don't get me wrong, she was almost a sister," Ranma replied
quickly. "Gettin' back to the matter, she went out to stay with a friend of
hers one night. Said she was goin'  into the hospital or somethin'.
        "Kasumi was...attacked...before she got there."
        "My condolences."
        "We got the call from the hospital 'bout four a.m. She had been
raped, and left there like a piece of trash," Ranma's voice was almost a
snarl as memories of what happened appeared to play in his mind.
        "They caught the guy what did it a few weeks later, and we thought
it'd be over. Yeah, right."
        "What happened?"
        "He got off on some technicality, I don't even remember what it was.
Point is, he was back on the streets in a month flat."
        "That is unfortunate."
        "Everyone was talkin' bout trackin' him down an' givin' him justice
Nerima style. I wasn't in the mood to talk about it, though.
        "I found him, an' to make a long story short, I killed him." The
priest remained silent, waiting for him to finish. His face remained
impassive, neither comforting or judging. "A few months later, I died and
found myself in the place those Christian guys call Hell.
        "Some of the most vile, evil souls ever to walk the face of the
earth escaped, and are walking around free. The Devil made me a deal to send
me back to earth so I can send those escaped souls back to Hell."
        "Why are you telling me this...this nonsense?" the preist asked.
        "You know why, old man," Ranma replied. Without warning, the old man
was on his feet and heading out the back. Clearing the table in a singe
jump, Ranma was off after him.
        The rest of the shrine was not as well lit as the main room and
kitchen were. Ranma's eyes adjusted to the darkness as he charged onward in
pursuit of the old priest. Just ahead, he heard the sound of something
crashing through a wall. 

        Light from a nearby streetlamp poured in through the hole in the
shrine's stone wall. Slowly, Ranma stepped through the gaping hole an dinto
the small alley beyond. Absently, he placed his hand on the edge of the
hole, and withdrew it quickly with a hiss. The edge of the hole was
extremely hot, and still glowing very faintly.
        //What the...?\\ he thought as he stepped through. Ranma easily
dodged the fist that sailed toward his head. With blinding speed, his hand
closed around the old man's wrist. Yanking forward, Ranma pulled him off
balance and struck him in the temple with his other hand. The force of the
blow would have been enough to fell a lesser man, but the old priest simply
took the shot as though he hardly felt it. Twisting around, he managed to
jerk his hand free and launch another attack. Tired of the fight, Ranma flew
into an Amaguriken attack. Several hundred punches slammed into the old
man's face and torso in the space of a few seconds. He flew back several
feet, flipping expertly and coming to his feet. Ranma braced himself to
clash with the surprisingly tough old man yet again, when the priest turned
and ran into the shadows. Taking off after him, Ranma rounded the corner,
only to find the old man had vanished without a trace.
        "DAMN!" he shouted into the night.

=========================================================

        "Here we are, Mr. Saotome." The woman opened the door with a large
number five painted on it. She was a bit on the tall side, with long black
hair and a kind, loving face.
        "Thanks..."
        "Kyoko. Kyoko Godai." Ranma stepped through the open door into th
eroom beyond. Flipping on the light switch, he took in the room before him.
The walls had several patch marks dotting their surfaces, placs where the
paint seemed more recent than the rest of the wall. Ranma sighed at the
sight. It reminded him so much of home... "Is everything alll right, Mr.
Saotome?"
        "Yeah," he said, startled, "yeah, just had a lousy night."
        "Very well. I'll see you in the morning," She said as she exited the
room.
        Removing his coat, Ranma simply tossed it toward a likely looking
spot on the floor. Sending his shirt to join it, he moved over to the
washing facility in his room when he saw them.
        His upper body and arms were covered with tattoos of some strange
sort, designs he had never seen before.
        "Those, Saotome, are the names of the damned," came a voice from
behind him. Spinning around, Ranma saw a man in a blue business suit staring
at him. The man was a little taller than he, with a large nose and long hair
slicked back on his head. His eyes were confident, almost arrogant as they
passed over Ranma. "They're written in my native tongue, of course."
        "What do you want?" Ranma asked. "You here to tease me or somethin'?"
        "No, actually," the man replied, walking toward Ranma slowly, "I'm
wondering if I really chose the right man for the job."
        "You wanted 'em back, I'll send 'em back," Ranma said angrily.
        "Well, you're gonna have to start doing MUCH better than you did
tonight," the man replied.
        "How did he burn through that stone wall?" Ranma asked. "Issat some
sorta martial arts technique or somethin'?" Ranma moved toward the window
and stared out into the darkness of the night. He couldn't see many stars,
due to the abundance of artificial lights around.
        "Saotome, he's been in hell for over a century," the man said with a
slight chuckle. "You've been my guest for...what...six years? The longer
you're in hell, the more it becomes a part of you." He had pulled up beside
Ranma by that point. "Some of those that escaped have been mine since the
dawn of time, and they have the powers to prove it."
        "So how do I send 'em back?" Ranma asked irratably.
        "Did I neglect to mention that?" the man asked with a laugh. He
turned his head to face Ranma. "The eyes, windows to the soul. Destroy the
eyes and the damned get a one-way ticket back to hell."
        "Anythin' else you forgot to tell me?"
        "Well, since you're dead, you can't die again. You can't even feel
pain, unless it's inflicted by another damned soul."
        "So whydja pick me?" Ranma asked.
        "So you don't want the job?" the man asked. "If not, there are
PLENTY of other eager applicants."
        "No, no, I'll do it," Ranma said, "But why did I go to hell, huh?"
        "You killed a man without justification," he replied.
        "Without Justification?!" Ranma asked in an enraged voice. "That
piece of shit raped Kasumi, and didn't get punished! He left her for dead in
that alley...."
        "But she DID live, didn't she."
        "Well...yeah...but..."
        "No buts, Saotome. He didn't kill her, so you had no right to kill
him. God's universe isn't like the crumbling legal system. If you do the
crime, you WILL do the time."
        "I had to make him pay," Ranma snarled. The man grinned once he said
it, the grin expanding to a rictus then exploding in gales of laughter.
"What's so damn funny?"
        "Saotome, do you have any idea how many times I've heard that line?"
he said once his laughter had subsided. "Or how many atrocities have been
justified by it? I have never damned a soul that didn't throroughly deserve
it, and you deserved it." Ranma glared at the night through the glass of the
window, anger plain on his face.
        "Don't think I'm afraid of you," Ranma said
        "Oh, it's not me you should be afraid of," the man replied. "Losing
your second chance at life on earth, that's what you should fear." Ranma
looked in his direction, only to find that the man had disappeared. He gazed
at the marks on his body, wondering which one was the name of the old priest
he had chased earlier before killing the room's lights.

=========================================================

        I know, it's pretty much like the first episode of Brimstone, but I
had to start somewhere. I'd appreciate any C&C suggesting where to take
this, but I'll ignore messages telling me where to stick it. ^_^

        Jed.