It was my eighteenth birthday ,a right of passage in my family, the day my father stepped down and I rose into power. I had declared my first decree as the new Prince of Darkness was to take revenge on the town that mocked me, South Park. After a few hours of being on Earth, I had destroyed everything they knew. I stood between chaos and watched their world burn.
I glanced around at my surroundings, my dreams finally a reality. The whole town was set aflame, now an empty space of ash and smoke, innocent children and adults screamed in agony and sorrow, now completely silent with the soundless sense of death in the air.
Blood, smoke, the faint yet arousing scent of death. Every little detail made me shiver with delight. I walked around, humming contentedly, seeing the dead corpses with wide, lifeless eyes staring back up at me, the emotion of fear forever plastered on their faces. I stepped lightly, as if not to disturb their eternal sleep, and froze, glaring down at the mangled up body of the priest, kicking his body out of my path. He had been fun, praying and praying as I stabbed him over and over. His last breath was wasted with a meaningless biblical verse of mercy, before I grew bored of him and crushed him under my now blood stained boot.
Smoke filled the air, blocking my view of the disaster I just created, and I pouted. I wanted to see the destruction and mayhem I had caused with my own eyes. The silence calmed me, since Hell was nothing but blood curdling shrieks Then, I heard the sound of metal being sharpened, and I turned to my right to see Christophe, an old companion of mine, sharpening a dagger with a distant look in his eyes. I chuckled, and he looked up at me, blood dripping fiercely from his nose and along his cheek. His leg was crippled beneath him, a now useless limb. He was covered with dirt, ash, blood, and I grinned.
"Enjoy the show?" I asked, the laugh still lingering in the question.
"Excellente. Zose bastards deserved every moment zey endured."
I heard a cough beside him, and I glanced, seeing Gregory, huddled up in blood drenched clothing, smoking a cigarette. He trembled, his breathing weak.. His shirt, once orange, was now red with blood, the sweet scent filling my nose. He was a strange one, who taught himself to be calm in the most deadly situations. I knew it would be awhile before I saw him down in Hell. I continued to walk, stepping over Christophe's broken leg. He didn't speak much, and this whole ordeal made it even less likely for him to say another word.
More soft, weak, hopeless pleads filled the air, and my laughing continued. I felt like a child in a candy store, I could barely contain my glee. I saw Eric Cartman, crumpled in a heap on the ground, tears staining his face, body parts twisting in unimaginable places. I watched him convulse, wheezing. His eyes widened, mouth dropping open in pain, his last breath slipping past his lips, finally going limp. I bent down, leaning close to his ear. "See you in Hell, fatass."
I continued to walk, seeing no other living people throughout the whole town. I saw body after body, becoming bored with what I saw. Stanley, Kyle, Craig, Bebe, the teachers, farmers, store clerks. All lifeless, souls already reached Hell by now. But I caught a living soul in the distance. I began to follow it, like a moth towards light. It was a bright, beautiful soul, a soul that would go to heaven, and it was close to death. It reflected fear, sorrow, pain. A truly troubled past. Beatings, disappointment, loneliness.
I finally stopped, hearing the soft sobs. I stepped closer, seeing a boy my age, huddled against a wall, hair tangled, blood staining his knee-high socks. He looked up at me, eyes wide and innocent, like those of a child. It threw me off guard. More tears spilled down his face, and he spoke softly. "You did this?"
I cocked a brow, responding with a direct "Yes." He made a sound, softer than his question. He trembled, shoulders shaking, and I realized he was laughing.
"This is not the first time the town has been destroyed," He told me, attempting to stand up, clutching his bleeding chest. "This is the fiftieth time, I believe. Maybe fifty-one. I lost count. Quite an unlucky town, eh? But this is the first time it has wiped out every single civilian." He finally stood up straight, legs shaking. I tilted my head.
"Pip?" He face lit up, and he smiled, showing off perfect teeth, but splitting his lip, blood spilling down his chin.
"I'm surprised you recognized me." He coughed, turning away and spitting. He looked up at me, eyes clouding over. His mouth suddenly opened and slacked, and he let out a whimper. He fell over, and I caught him, holding him up straight. A noise escaped him, blood bubbling in his throat, eyes widening. I held him close, his blood staining my turtle neck. He looked so helpless, a child in my arms. "Help.." He whispered.
"I'm going to stop the pain. You'll be free from all of this, I promise." I replied, looking him right in the eye. Pip didn't respond, but the raise of his eyebrows told me he head heard. I kissed the corner of his mouth, and, clutching his head, snapped his neck.
He fell limp, and I gently placed him on the ground, closing his eyes and placing a loose, light blonde hair behind his ear. He couldn't possibly go to Heaven now, he has been kissed with the Devil's own lips, killed with the Devil's hands.
With one last sympathetic look at his dead body, I continued on, planning my next move. Returning back to Hell wasn't an option. I had been trapped there for years prepping for my new position, and now I wanted to use it to the fullest extent. I wanted to show the world there was something new to be afraid of. I decided my next target would be Canada. They've had it too good for too long.